A Boy in the Video Called My Late Fiance Dad, Standing Before My Bestie’s Wedding Photo Chapter 11

A Boy in the Video Called My Late Fiance Dad, Standing Before My Bestie’s Wedding Photo Chapter 11

I knew they hadn’t ended the call. 

The truth was much simpler. 

The future that was supposed to belong to them, 

the future they had built on top of my suffering 

and destruction, no longer existed. 

The timeline had corrected itself. 

The miraculous phone call that had connected two points seven years apart had fulfilled its 

purpose. 

Now the connection was gone forever. 

I slipped my phone back into my purse. 

Then I linked my arm with my mother’s and walked 

out of the courthouse. 

The rain had stopped. 

Sunlight broke through the clouds and spilled 

across the courthouse steps. 

The air carried the fresh scent of rain–soaked 

earth. 

My mother looked at me. 

Her eyes were slightly red, but there was a smile 

on her face. 

“Hazel,” she asked softly, “is it finally over?” 

I took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. 

Then I nodded. 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s over.” 

“Mom, let’s go home.” 

Not long after the criminal verdict became official, the divorce judgment was finalized as well. 

Everything that belonged to me was returned. 

Including the marital assets Julian had secretly 

transferred away. 

I didn’t stay in that city. 

I sold the condo that had once been intended as 

our marital home and took my mother back to our 

hometown. 

With the money, I opened my own design studio. 

For the first time, I was building a career around 

something I genuinely loved. 

Life in a small town moved slowly. 

There were no schemes. 

No betrayals. 

No endless power games. 

Every morning, I accompanied my mother to the 

grocery store. 

In the afternoons, I worked on design projects in 

my studio. 

In the evenings, I tended flowers in the yard. 

Three years later, I happened to come across an 

update about Julian and Vivian online. 

It was part of a true–crime television special 

revisiting old cases. 

Julian looked unrecognizable. 

Prison had aged him beyond his years. 

Sitting in front of the camera, he repeated the 

same sentence over and over. 

“I wronged her.” 

“I deserve everything that happened to me.” 

As for Vivian, her future looked even bleaker. 

Because of repeated disciplinary violations in 

prison and consistently poor behavior, she had no 

chance of receiving a reduced sentence. 

I watched the report. 

I felt absolutely nothing. 

Then I casually swiped to the next video. 

It was no different from watching a story about 

strangers. 

Because whether they lived or died… 

Whether they felt remorse or not… 

None of it had anything to do with me anymore. 

My life had started over the moment that phone 

call across time was disconnected. 

The sun was shining. 

A gentle breeze drifted through the open window. 

The blueprint on my desk still needed a few final 

adjustments. 

I picked up my pencil. 

This time, the future I was creating belonged to no 

one else. 

Only me.