From Burning Bride to Runaway Wife - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
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Justin ripped the medical record from the doctor's grasp, his eyes flying over the page—until they landed on the name. Lara Kessler. The world froze.
His mind went numb. Before he could even process it—
CRACK.
A stinging slap whipped his head to the side. Monica stood before him, hand still raised, trembling with fury. Beside her, Francis just stared, silent, heavy with disappointment.
They'd raced to the hospital the second they heard he was there. And the moment they arrived, they learned the truth: Lara had been the one to give him a kidney.
Monica's voice shook, sharp as ice.
"Lara's terrified of pain," she spat. "But she still cut herself open to save your worthless life. And what did you do? You threw a vase at her. You humiliated her. You drove her away."
Her fists clenched. "She was so disgusted with you, she didn't even tell you. She wanted nothing to do with you."
A ragged breath. Then, softer, broken:
"Justin… how did I raise such a heartless son?"
The floor dropped beneath him. Francis exhaled, pulling a yellowed envelope from his coat.
"This," he said quietly, handing it over, "is a letter Lara's parents wrote before they went in to save you." His voice was lead. "You blamed us for years, forced you to marry her. If you want the truth… read it."
The mention of Lara's parents sent a knife through Justin's chest. Hands shaking, he unfolded the letter.
The handwriting was rushed but firm. They'd known. They'd known they weren't coming back.
"The kidnappers are merciless. We can't wait for help. For our children, we go in ourselves. If we don't return… please, care for our daughter."
Justin's throat closed. Then—
"Justin once asked to marry Lara when they grew up. We agreed. If they ever love each other… don't stand in their way."
He'd forgotten. He'd been a kid, barely understanding love—but the moment he met Lara, he knew. She was the future he'd dreamed of.
When had that changed?
Maybe when Leah entered his life. Maybe when he convinced himself she was the one who needed him.
Justin, Lara, and Leah had been classmates. Leah—the orphan, the outcast, bullied and alone. And it was Lara who'd defended her, brought her in, protected her.
That was how he'd gotten close to Leah. And somehow, he'd let himself believe the lie. That Leah was fragile. That she had no one.
But the real orphan? The one who'd never asked for anything, who'd acted strong?
It was Lara.
A searing pain tore through his chest. He collapsed to his knees, voice raw.
"I was wrong. I'm—I'm sorry. This is all my fault—"
Tears blurred his vision as he turned to his parents, desperation clawing at him.
"Dad. Mom. I know I messed up. But I can't lose her. I don't want anyone else. Just her." His voice cracked. "Where is she? Help me get her back!"
Monica sighed, looking at him—not with anger, just quiet sorrow.
"Justin," she said softly, "after everything you've done… after how many times you've shattered her…"
She held his gaze.
"Maybe the best thing you can do for Lara…"
A pause. Then, final:
"…is let her go."
His mind went numb. Before he could even process it—
CRACK.
A stinging slap whipped his head to the side. Monica stood before him, hand still raised, trembling with fury. Beside her, Francis just stared, silent, heavy with disappointment.
They'd raced to the hospital the second they heard he was there. And the moment they arrived, they learned the truth: Lara had been the one to give him a kidney.
Monica's voice shook, sharp as ice.
"Lara's terrified of pain," she spat. "But she still cut herself open to save your worthless life. And what did you do? You threw a vase at her. You humiliated her. You drove her away."
Her fists clenched. "She was so disgusted with you, she didn't even tell you. She wanted nothing to do with you."
A ragged breath. Then, softer, broken:
"Justin… how did I raise such a heartless son?"
The floor dropped beneath him. Francis exhaled, pulling a yellowed envelope from his coat.
"This," he said quietly, handing it over, "is a letter Lara's parents wrote before they went in to save you." His voice was lead. "You blamed us for years, forced you to marry her. If you want the truth… read it."
The mention of Lara's parents sent a knife through Justin's chest. Hands shaking, he unfolded the letter.
The handwriting was rushed but firm. They'd known. They'd known they weren't coming back.
"The kidnappers are merciless. We can't wait for help. For our children, we go in ourselves. If we don't return… please, care for our daughter."
Justin's throat closed. Then—
"Justin once asked to marry Lara when they grew up. We agreed. If they ever love each other… don't stand in their way."
He'd forgotten. He'd been a kid, barely understanding love—but the moment he met Lara, he knew. She was the future he'd dreamed of.
When had that changed?
Maybe when Leah entered his life. Maybe when he convinced himself she was the one who needed him.
Justin, Lara, and Leah had been classmates. Leah—the orphan, the outcast, bullied and alone. And it was Lara who'd defended her, brought her in, protected her.
That was how he'd gotten close to Leah. And somehow, he'd let himself believe the lie. That Leah was fragile. That she had no one.
But the real orphan? The one who'd never asked for anything, who'd acted strong?
It was Lara.
A searing pain tore through his chest. He collapsed to his knees, voice raw.
"I was wrong. I'm—I'm sorry. This is all my fault—"
Tears blurred his vision as he turned to his parents, desperation clawing at him.
"Dad. Mom. I know I messed up. But I can't lose her. I don't want anyone else. Just her." His voice cracked. "Where is she? Help me get her back!"
Monica sighed, looking at him—not with anger, just quiet sorrow.
"Justin," she said softly, "after everything you've done… after how many times you've shattered her…"
She held his gaze.
"Maybe the best thing you can do for Lara…"
A pause. Then, final:
"…is let her go."
End of From Burning Bride to Runaway Wife Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to From Burning Bride to Runaway Wife book page.