The Cursed Marriage No Looking Back

"Stay back!" My voice ripped through the silence. I raised a trembling, blood-soaked hand. "You... you disgust me." Andrew's leather shoes skidded to a halt. "Leah! You're coughing up blood?" Kate shrieked, her terror pitched perfectly for an audience. "Andrew, save her! Hurry!" She lunged forward as if to help—but her hands latched onto Andrew's arm instead, anchoring him in place. Her gaze flicked toward me, sharp and calculating, before snapping back to wounded innocence. Tethered by her grip, Andrew's attention shifted. "Don't panic," he told her, voice tight. "Specialists are en route. Leah, hold on." Hold on? The family elders had warned me about the Heartbreak Curse. Lethal, yes, but not invincible. Two ways to break it: the caster's sincere repentance—or their blood relative's—acting as catalyst. Or the Antidote. Would Kate Fox sincerely repent? Would Andrew force his precious cousin to pay for my life? The answer was standing right in front of me, clutching his arm. My legs buckled. I slid down the mahogany table until I hit the floor. The carpet was plush and expensive, but it did nothing against the bone-deep chill ravaging my body. "Andrew." I tilted my head back, forcing myself to look at him through the haze. Blood filled my mouth. "Don't bother waiting for your friends." He stiffened. A grim smile tugged at my lips. "I can undo this myself." Under their stunned stares, my shaking hand fumbled into my jacket's inner pocket. My fingers found cold metal—a small silver box. My grandmother had pressed it into my hand on my wedding day. A secret gift from an old mystic in the southern regions. Just in case, she'd whispered. I'd thought she was being superstitious. But I loved her, so I kept it close. I never imagined the bad luck would be my husband. I flipped the latch. Three jet-black pills sat inside, smooth and round, emitting a faint bitter fragrance. "What is that?" Andrew's eyes narrowed. "The Antidote." I pinched one between my fingers and swallowed it without hesitation. It dissolved instantly. Bitterness exploded on my tongue, followed by searing heat that rolled down my throat like molten lead. It crashed into my stomach, colliding with the icy venom of the curse. "Argh!" I curled into a ball, agony ripping through me. My organs felt roasted over open flame, then skewered with icicles. "Leah!" Panic finally cracked Andrew's mask. He stepped toward me. "Andrew, wait!" Kate's nails dug into his suit. "What is she eating? You can't let her swallow random things! What if it ruins her body? We have to wait for the doctors!" Caught in her trap, he hesitated. Stopped. In those critical seconds, the war inside me reached its peak. The medicine's scorching heat hunted down the curse's cold energy, cornering it, devouring it. Sweat drenched my clothes. My limbs turned to jelly, but the deadly knot in my stomach began to unravel. I braced my hands against the floor, gasping. Every breath burned, but with each inhale, the fog lifted. I raised my head. They stood frozen, stiff and uncertain. Slowly, I pushed myself up. My legs shook, but I locked my knees and straightened my spine. I would not cower. "Looks like I won't die today." I wiped blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. My voice was ice. "Sorry to disappoint." Andrew's relief instantly hardened into defense. "Leah, what's that supposed to mean? If you had the Antidote, why not take it immediately? Why put on this show?" "Put on a show?" A laugh scraped out of my throat—dry, harsh, empty. "If I'd taken it earlier, how would I have witnessed such touching sibling devotion? How would I have learned that when forced to choose, Mr. Delgado soothes his frightened cousin before saving his dying wife?" He opened his mouth, but I was already turning to Kate. "Kate." My voice dropped soft. She flinched. "The Heartbreak Curse was no accident. We both know what happened today. Whether it was 'carelessness' or attempted murder... the truth is in your heart." I smoothed my clothes, my posture shifting from victim to judge. "For Andrew's sake, I won't call the police." I met his eyes. "But we are done."

Kate's face went white. She shrank behind Andrew's tall frame like a frightened child. I held my ground, voice cold as steel. "Remember this moment. From now on, we're done. Pray you never cross my path again." I turned and walked away without waiting for a response. "Leah! Where do you think you're going?" Andrew's composure cracked into panic behind me. I didn't look back. My apartment sat in the heart of downtown. I'd bought it outright before the marriage—every cent of my savings plus a little help from my parents. It was mine. After the wedding, Andrew complained it was too far from Delgado Group headquarters, so we moved into his villa. Over time, this place became my secret sanctuary—the only refuge when being Mrs. Delgado became suffocating. I drove on autopilot, running on fumes. All I wanted was to crawl into my shell and lick my wounds in peace. But the moment I pushed the door open, the sanctuary shattered. Instead of the crisp lemon verbena I loved, the air hung thick with cloying sweetness. Pink fuzzy slippers with pom-poms sat at the entryway. Not mine. I stepped into the living room. Cartoon throw pillows littered my minimalist sofa. Fashion magazines and half-eaten snacks cluttered the coffee table. Acid rose in my throat. I walked stiffly to the bedroom and pushed the door open. My breath caught. My simple bedding had been stripped and replaced with an absurd lace-trimmed princess set. On the vanity, my skincare had been shoved into a corner, replaced by gaudy new bottles. The wardrobe hung open. Inside—frilly dresses I'd never seen, sized to flaunt a petite frame. Rage surged through me, drowning out the curse's lingering pain. My hands trembled. "Who let you in?" My voice scraped raw against the violated space. "Leah? You're back?" Kate sauntered out of my study, turning one of my crystal ornaments in her hands without a shred of guilt. "I just came to tidy up," she said lightly. "Andrew mentioned this place was sitting empty—such a waste. My internship's nearby, so I'm staying here a while." She set the ornament down and surveyed the room with proprietary satisfaction. "I arranged things pretty well, don't you think? Much cozier now." My nails dug into my palms until skin broke. "This is my house. Who gave you permission to touch my things?" Kate tilted her head, smile saccharine. "Leah, don't be like that. You and Andrew are married. Sure, you bought this before the wedding, but now it's all joint property, isn't it?" She smoothed her dress. "Andrew said so himself—what's his is mine. If I want to live here, of course he agrees." Marital joint property. The audacity was breathtaking. "So he agreed you could break into my private space and contaminate my belongings?" "Oh, don't put it so harshly." Kate walked over, reaching for my hand like we were best friends. I slapped it away. She shrugged, unbothered. "We're practically family. Why draw such clear lines? You don't even live here—leaving it empty is wasteful. I'm just adding some life to the place." She studied my face with mock concern. "Leah, you look terrible. Is the poison still in your system? You should really see a doctor. Don't worry about things here—I'll make myself at home." A pause. Then, with casual cruelty: "Oh, right. I'm in the master bedroom. The guest room still has some of your old stuff—you can rest there." "Get out." My voice dropped, deadly calm. Kate froze. "Leah—" "Now. Take your trash and get out of my house."

I enunciated every syllable, my voice low and dangerous. "Otherwise, I'll call the police immediately. Trespassing is a crime, Kate." Her mask slipped, revealing a flash of panic. "You wouldn't dare! Andrew wouldn't allow it!" "Try me." I lifted my phone, thumb hovering over the dial pad. "Let's see if he can get here before the patrol car does." Kate bit her lip, her face twisting. She stomped her foot like a petulant child. "Fine! I'll go! Who wants to stay in this dump anyway? I'll tell Andrew exactly how unreasonable you're being!" She spun around to pack, deliberately throwing items into her bag with a clattering racket. Before she could finish, the lock clicked. The door swung open. Andrew stood there, dark hair disheveled, breathing uneven—like he'd sprinted from the elevator. Kate dropped the clothes in her hands instantly. Tears welled on cue as she threw herself at him. "Andrew! She's kicking me out! She threatened to have me arrested! I just needed somewhere to stay for a few days..." His gaze softened the moment it landed on her. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, then turned to me. The softness vanished. His brows drew together, hardening into that familiar disapproval. "Leah, why are you making a scene again? Kate's only staying temporarily. Do you really need to turn this into a war zone over something so trivial? You haven't even recovered—can't you just settle down?" I didn't say a word. I summoned every ounce of strength left in my hollowed-out body and lunged. "Leah! What are you—" Slap. The sound cracked through the room like a whip. My palm stung, vibrating with numbness. Andrew's head snapped to the side, angry red welts blooming against his pale skin. Dead silence. Kate's sobbing cut off like a switch had been flipped. She clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with genuine shock. Andrew remained frozen, head still turned. After several agonizing seconds, he slowly faced me again. Fury ignited in his dark eyes. "Are you insane?" But the moment he met my gaze, the rage faltered. I stood rigid, jaw clenched so hard it ached. My face was drained of color, lips white from biting down. But it was my eyes that stopped him—rimmed red, swimming with tears I refused to let fall. Andrew's pupils contracted. The icy desolation in my gaze seemed to pierce him. "Leah..." His voice came out hoarse, stripped of arrogance. "Get out." I didn't blink. "Take her and get the hell out of my house. Now." He stood rooted, reaching out as if to brush the moisture gathering at the corner of my eye. "Leah, don't cry..." I jerked away like his touch was poison. The movement dislodged a single tear, tracing a cold path down my cheek. "Don't touch me." My voice was raspy, but absolute. His hand froze midair. Kate recovered her senses. She stepped out from behind him, shrieking. "You actually dared to hit Andrew! Have you no shame?" "You don't get to say my name." I turned my gaze on her—cold enough to freeze blood. "Need a refresher on the penal code for residential trespassing?" She flinched, shrinking back. Andrew closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. When he opened them, the emotions swirling in their depths were illegible. "Kate. Pack your things. We're leaving." "Andrew!" She gasped, unable to believe he was conceding. "Go. Now." His voice dropped an octave, leaving no room for argument. Kate fell silent. She shot me a look of pure venom, then marched into the bedroom, stuffing her belongings into her bag with chaotic fury. For a moment, only the two of us remained. Andrew studied me, expression pained. "The house is yours. I'll make sure she moves out. But your health—let me take you to the hospital." "No need." I walked to the door and pulled it wide, gesturing to the hallway. "Please." He didn't move. "We need to talk." "Talk about what?" I let out a short, hollow laugh. "About how your innocent little cousin is the victim? About how aggressive and unreasonable I am?" I met his eyes. "Andrew, that slap was for the curse you let her put on me. From this moment on—we're even."

Andrew's face drained of color. "About the curse... I'll get to the bottom of it. If Kate's responsible—" "It doesn't matter anymore." I cut him off. "Just keep your entire family away from me." Kate dragged her suitcase toward the door, eyes rimmed red. Andrew opened his mouth, but the ice in my gaze silenced him. He cast one last look my way before ushering her out. The lock clicked shut. My legs gave out—not a dramatic slide down the wall, just a graceless collapse onto the floorboards, every drop of adrenaline spent. The Heartbreak Curse still throbbed in my chest, a dull echo of earlier agony, but the numbness spreading through my limbs was worse. I didn't wallow. By morning, a locksmith was drilling out the core to replace the locks entirely. Then came the purge. Everything Kate had touched—bedding, skincare bottles, even the sofa slipcovers—went straight to the dumpster. Task complete, I drove to the Delgado estate. Not for nostalgia. For retrieval—and severance. The villa was silent. Natalie met me at the door, eyes widening. "Mrs. Delgado? You're back? Mr. Delgado didn't return last night..." "Just here to pack." I bypassed her and headed upstairs. The master bedroom still held the stale air of yesterday's chaos. I ignored it, cleared my wardrobe of essentials, secured my documents. Then I entered the study. I opened the safe. My mother's jewelry box sat inside, but when I lifted the lid, the velvet interior was empty. The pearl necklace was gone. The only keepsake I had left of her. Cold rage spiked through my blood. I marched downstairs. "Natalie. Who entered the study?" She fidgeted, avoiding my eyes. "Well, Miss Fox stopped by yesterday. Said she needed to find a book..." An engine roared outside, cutting her off. The front door swung open. Andrew strode in, Kate trailing like a shadow. His eyes landed on the suitcase, brow furrowing. "Leah? What is this?" "Divorce." I slapped the papers onto the coffee table. "Sign it." Kate stepped forward, concern painted on her face. "Leah, don't be impulsive. I know you're upset about yesterday, and I apologize, but—" "The necklace." I extended my hand. "Give it back." She froze, blinking innocently. "What necklace?" "My mother's pearls. You took them from the safe yesterday." Andrew turned to his cousin, expression darkening. "Kate? Did you take it?" "I didn't!" Her eyes welled instantly. "Leah, you can't frame me just because you hate me!" I didn't waste breath arguing. I pulled out my phone and tapped the screen—a miniature camera I'd installed in the study before the wedding. Paranoia that had finally paid off. I held up the screen. The video played clearly: Kate slipping into the study, cracking the safe, pocketing the pearls. Silence. Heavy and suffocating. Andrew stared at the screen, then slowly turned to Kate. The room dropped ten degrees. "You stole from my wife?" "I... I just thought it was pretty!" Kate grabbed his arm, panic rising. "I was just borrowing it! Andrew, I'm sorry, I'll give it back!" He ripped his arm free, disgusted. A vein pulsed at his temple. He looked at me, voice raspy. "Leah... I didn't know she was capable of this." "Now you do." I pocketed my phone. "Return the necklace and sign the papers. Today." I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door. "Leah!" His voice cracked, desperation bleeding through. "Is there really no room left? None at all?" I paused, hand on the doorknob. Didn't turn around. "The moment you chose to protect her over me, you burned that bridge yourself." Three days after I'd settled back into my apartment, my phone rang. Quinn Whitney. My childhood friend, the boy next door who'd spent years abroad. Finally back. "Leah!" His voice burst through the speaker, bright and infectious. "Heard the news—congratulations on the divorce! Come out, let me buy you a drink. We're celebrating your prison break and washing away the bad luck tonight!"

We met at the private, home-style bistro that had been our sanctuary years ago. Quinn hadn't changed much, though time had sharpened his jawline, lending his features a rugged edge. He studied me, his gaze lingering on the hollows of my cheeks and the dark circles bruising the skin beneath my eyes. His easy smile faltered. He reached out, his hand resting gently on the top of my head. "You've been through hell." Three simple words, yet they almost shattered my carefully constructed armor. I swatted his hand away, forcing a casual air I didn't feel. "Knock it off. Just order. I'm starving." The waiter had barely set the dishes down when the door to our private room crashed open. Andrew filled the doorway, his expression thunderous, his gaze locking onto me like a predator sighting prey. Kate shadowed him, step for step. "Leah. We need to talk." Andrew's voice was tight, a steel wire ready to snap. Quinn raised a brow. He set down his chopsticks and shifted his chair, effectively shielding me from Andrew's line of sight. "Mr. Delgado. This is a private dinner. If you wish to discuss business, contact my secretary for an appointment." Andrew ignored him entirely, his dark eyes boring into me. "Is this really necessary? Moving out? Blocking my number? Refusing to even see me? Even if we're proceeding with a divorce, we should handle the logistics like adults." Kate's eyes brimmed with tears on command. "Leah, please don't be angry with Andrew. This is all my fault. You two should talk. I... I shouldn't have come." As the last word left her lips, she swayed violently. Her hands flew to her abdomen, her face draining of color until she was ghostly pale. Cold sweat beaded along her hairline. "Ah... it hurts... God, it hurts..." She moaned, collapsing against Andrew's chest. The sight sent a jolt of recognition through me—she looked exactly as I had the day the Heartbreak Curse took hold. Andrew caught her, panic cracking his composure. "Kate? What's wrong? Is it your condition flaring up again?" Kate was in too much agony to speak. She could only shake her head, tears streaming down her face. Andrew's head snapped up, his glare directed at me. "Leah! Did you do this? Did you put some kind of curse on her?" Quinn let out a sharp scoff. "Mr. Delgado, you have quite the imagination. Though, speaking of curses—" He cut himself off with a strangled groan. The color vanished from Quinn's face. His tall frame lurched, and he slammed a hand against the table to keep from hitting the floor. Sweat broke out across his forehead in seconds. "Quinn!" I bolted from my chair, rushing to steady him. Quinn gritted his teeth, forcing a strained smile through the pain. The symptoms were identical. Andrew froze, his eyes darting between Kate and Quinn. Grandma's warning echoed in my mind: Curses of the same origin resonate with one another when in close proximity. The clay jar Kate carried contained the Heartbreak Curse. But now, it was clear that wasn't the only thing binding them. I didn't waste a second. I reached into my bag and pulled out the silver box. Inside lay the pitch-black pill. "Quinn. Swallow this. Now." I cracked the wax seal and pressed the pill to his lips. Andrew's pupils constricted. "Leah! Is that the antidote? You're giving it to him?" Quinn swallowed. Though sweat still poured down his face, the tension in his brow began to ease. His ragged breathing steadied. Almost simultaneously, a guttural shriek tore from Kate's throat. This was no longer the weak, performative whimpering from before. She curled in on herself, her features twisted in agony. A wail that sounded barely human ripped through the room. Her hands clawed at Andrew's shirt, nails digging dangerously close to his skin. "Ah—! It burns! Andrew, save me! The curse... it's backlashing!" She screamed hoarsely, face smeared with tears and mucus. The delicate, pitiful facade was gone, replaced by raw, ugly desperation. Andrew was visibly shaken. "Kate! What is happening to you?!" I watched them, my expression ice cold. Beside me, Quinn finally caught his breath. He looked at the screaming woman, then at me, dark understanding rising in his pale face. "Looks like someone tried to be clever with a self-harm act but didn't anticipate the consequences," Quinn murmured, his voice low but cutting. "That jar didn't just contain the Heartbreak Curse—it held the Linked-Heart Curse as well. They feed off each other, sensing intent to trigger an attack." He leaned heavily against the wall, eyes narrowing at the woman writhing on the floor. "If the caster harbors malicious intent, contact with the Antidote's purifying power triggers a backlash. The cure becomes poison to the wicked, burning them from the inside out with amplified agony." Andrew's head snapped up. His gaze was a turbulent mix of shock and denial. Kate's wailing tore through the private room. "No... Andrew... save me! It burns! It hurts so much!" She tried to argue, to spin another lie, but her body's violent reaction betrayed her. Quinn's explanation had stripped away her mask, turning her performance into a grotesque joke. The hand Andrew used to support her seized up, his fingers turning rigid. He looked at me, his Adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to speak, but no sound escaped. I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder, supporting Quinn with my other arm. As we passed them, I paused. My gaze settled on Andrew's ashen, vacant face. "Andrew," I said softly, my voice carrying the calm relief of dust settling after a storm. "Now it's your turn." Your turn to suffer. Your turn to clean up the mess.