Page 40 of Broken Destiny

By the time I reached the hotel, my pulse was still racing. I went straight to Greg and told him everything that had happened at the meeting, the words spilling out of me faster than I could control them.

Through Canada411, I tracked her down and managed to get her address and phone number.

“I’ve got to find out everything I can about her,” I told him, pacing the room like a caged animal.

“This is crazy, Caleb,” Greg said, blinking rapidly and growing still, watching me. “You’re getting married in three months. This is not healthy.”

“I know it’s not healthy,” I shot back, dragging my hand through my hair. “But this happening right before my wedding feels like… I don’t know… a sign. Fate. Destiny. Something.”

The words sounded irrational even to my own ears.

“I’m not saying I’m getting back with her,” I continued, my voice rising as anger pushed its way forward. “I hate her. I hate what she did to me. To my family.”

Memories rushed in, slicing through whatever control I had left. Every lie she had told. Every story she had spun. Every moment that had collapsed beneath the weight of treachery.

“I need to make her pay,” I said. “I need to make her feel pain. I need to get this out of my system before I get married.”

Greg stepped closer and placed his hand on my shoulder, like someone trying to hold back a man standing too close to the edge of a cliff.

“Are you sure this is what will make you happy?” he asked quietly. “Will you walk away and feel better after you get your revenge?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately, the certainty in my voice surprising even me. “I know I will. I know that everything inside me—all the anger, all the hurt, all the darkness—will finally disappear once she feels what I felt.”What I still feel…

“You’re wrong, Caleb,” Greg said, shaking his head slowly. “You’ll only end up hurting yourself. Don’t do this.”

“Cancel the rest of the bachelor party,” I said, my tone rising before I could stop it. “You guys can go home tomorrow, or tonight, for all I care.”

I looked straight at him, daring him to challenge me.

“If you can’t support me and help me, then you can leave too. I’ll be here until the end of the week.”

Greg stared for a long time and then broke eye contact. He lowered his head, sighing heavily. “Fine,” he said at last, before turning and walking away.

The sound of the door closing behind him echoed through the room, leaving me alone with the fire building inside me.

It tooka while for my anger to cool, though it never truly disappeared. Greg’s words haunted my mind, circling like vultures waiting for the right moment to land.

I was going to be working with her.

Nyah…

Jiya…

Whatever her name was now.

I did not even know what to call her anymore, and that irritated me.

That night, I tossed and turned in bed, the sheets twisting around my legs. The ceiling above me felt too close, the room too quiet, my thoughts too loud.

Finally, unable to take it any longer, I reached for my phone and pulled up the picture of the painting.

Her face appeared on the screen.

She looked the same… the same eyes… the same expression… the same pull that had once drawn me toward her without effort.

My chest constricted as I stared at the image.

She was so close. Her house was only minutes from the hotel. The distance between us had shrunk from years to streets, from memories to reality.