Where Love Began to Hurt Ch 6

Chapter 6
The day before she left the country, Adelia visited an old mountain church surrounded by ancient trees.
Ever since the misscarriage, she’d been dreaming of a blood-soaked baby wailing at her every night.
So, she contacted a pastor to perform a ritual for peace.
But just as she arrived, she saw a tall man praying in the center of the nave.
She knew that back all too well.
“Did you hear? Mr. Fargeat’s lover is terminally ill. To get her a protection charm, he hiked up the mountain, praying every step of the way…
“The last part was steep, and he nearly fell off the cliff!”
The whispers from passing strangers drifted into her ears.
Adelia froze mid-step.
His arm was wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through the gauze.
She remembered Ethan never believed in God.
He never stepped into churches and never kept any cross or Bible at home.
When his company gave him a rosary at an annual party, he tossed it to his assistant without blinking.
Even when she wanted to visit her mother’s grave, all he did was stub out his cigaarette and say, “The dead are gone. Leaving flowers doesn’t change a thing—it’s just comfort for the living.”
And now—he was kne-eling before a towering altar, head bowed low, hands tightly clasped. So humble it was almost pathetic.
Adelia’s lips curled slightly. Bitterness surged in her chest.
So it wasn’t that Ethan didn’t believe in God after all. It was just that no one had ever mattered enough.
—
By the time Adelia left the church, dusk had fallen.
The wind in the valley was cold.
She pulled her coat tighter.
Just as she stepped onto the stone path, a shadow darted out from the trees.
The figure moved fast. Before she could scream, a hand clamped over her mouth and nose. Everything went black.
When she came to, she was slumped against a tree. A few medics were rushing toward a cliff edge with a stretcher.
“Hurry, the patient’s down the cliff!”
Adelia pushed herself up, staggering.
Before she could make sense of anything, a tall figure strode up through the cold air.
“Adelia, I thought you cursed Gwen out of spite, but you really pushed her off a cliff!” Ethan’s hand clamped around her throat, shoving her back against the tree. “Good thing she landed on the rocks below. If she had died, I would’ve buried you with her.”
Adelia choked for air.
The look in his eyes said everything. And suddenly—she understood.
“I… didn’t…” She forced the words out.
“Still lying?” Ethan’s voice was ice. “You and Gwen were both here. Now she’s at the bottom of a cliff. And you expect me to believe that’s just a coincidence?”
Adelia clawed at his hand, struggling to breathe.
Just before she blacked out, his assistant came running. “Mr. Fargeat! We got her! She’s alive!”
Ethan let go of her instantly and rushed to Gwen.
Adelia doubled over, coughing hard.
Through tear-blurred eyes, she saw Gwen clutching Ethan’s sleeve on the stretcher, her face pale with fear. “Ethan, I’m scared…”
He gripped her hand tightly and said in a low voice, “I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you.”
He helped her into the ambulance with care, then turned to his assistant and said something under his breath.
A moment later, the assistant walked back toward Adelia, grabbed her wrist, and said coldly, “Forgive me, Ms. Adelia.”
Then he dragged her to the edge of the cliff—and shoved her off.
The world spun. She slammed into a jagged rock, pain shooting through her bones.
High above, the assistant looked down and said, “Mr. Fargeat said you crossed the line. This is your punishment. Now you’ll know what Ms. Gwen went through.”
His footsteps faded, leaving her alone.
Agonizing pain racked her body. She tried to climb up again and again—each time failing.
Curled against the freezing rock, despair swallowed her whole.
She wanted to scream, to ask Ethan—Gwen nearly died. What reason would she possibly have to hurt her?
But even colder than the mountain wind was the answer she already knew that in Ethan’s eyes, she would never compare to Gwen.
And he would never believe her.
—
There was no signal on the mountain. Adelia knew she couldn’t wait for rescue. She forced herself up.
Her nails dug into cracks in the rock. Her palms tore open, bleeding.
She fell. She climbed. Over and over, until her body was covered in blood—and finally, she made it to the top.
The cable cars had stopped running. She stumbled down the mountain, her battered body barely staying upright.
By the time she reached home, dawn was breaking.
She cleaned her wounds as best she could and collapsed into bed.
Half-asleep, half-conscious—the door burst open.
A second later, she was yanked up and thrown onto the freezing floor.