His Mistress or My Coffin - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading His Mistress or My Coffin, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of His Mistress or My Coffin.
The nightmare began all over again.
Lucy and the others pleaded with John to take me to the hospital first—but he didn't listen. Instead, he sped off in the only car we had, desperate to save Lily. That car was my lifeline, my only chance at survival.
Watching him now, his face twisted with panic as he gripped the steering wheel, a dull ache settled in my chest.
I was dying. I had begged him. And yet, the moment Lily whispered that she was lost and scared, he dropped everything for her.
He wasn't always like this.
We met on a mountain, too.
Back then, John was still inexperienced—he'd slipped halfway up the slope, knocked himself unconscious. I was the one who rushed to his side, who carried him to safety. He fell for me instantly, chasing after me with relentless devotion.
He used to be so gentle. So patient. The kind of man who'd remember the little things, who'd hold my hand like I was something precious.
Then Lily happened.
She looked just like his first love. They met through a hiking group, and after their first outing together, he was a different person. Suddenly, every word out of his mouth was about her.
The car jolted violently over the rough mountain road, sending the four-leaf clover pendant I'd given him smacking against the window.
There were two of them—one large, one small. I'd hung the bigger one in his car, kept the smaller one with me. A silly little charm, a wish for safety, for forever.
John glared at the wildly swinging pendant, his jaw tight with irritation. With one sharp yank, he tore it free and hurled it out the window.
But then—something flickered in his expression. He fumbled for his phone, dialing with frantic fingers.
My number.
A bitter laugh caught in my throat. After everything, now he thinks of me?
But how was I supposed to answer?
The call failed. He cursed under his breath, redialing again and again before finally giving up and snatching the radio instead.
"Lucy—tell Mary to stop messing around and get back to camp. Now."
His voice was sharp, clipped.
"And have her prepare something warm. Lily's been out there too long—she'll be freezing when we find her."
He didn't wait for a response, just switched channels, his entire body tense as he called for Lily.
A weak crackle of static—then her voice.
"John…?"
The change was instant. His face lit up, his foot slamming on the brakes as he clutched the radio like a lifeline.
"Lily! Where are you? Are you hurt? Look around—do you see any landmarks?"
Her reply was faint, broken by interference, but he nodded like she was right in front of him. With a grin, he spun the wheel, gunning the engine toward her location.
"Hold on, I'm coming. Just wait for me!"
The car roared to life, leaving everything—including what was left of me—far behind.
Lucy and the others pleaded with John to take me to the hospital first—but he didn't listen. Instead, he sped off in the only car we had, desperate to save Lily. That car was my lifeline, my only chance at survival.
Watching him now, his face twisted with panic as he gripped the steering wheel, a dull ache settled in my chest.
I was dying. I had begged him. And yet, the moment Lily whispered that she was lost and scared, he dropped everything for her.
He wasn't always like this.
We met on a mountain, too.
Back then, John was still inexperienced—he'd slipped halfway up the slope, knocked himself unconscious. I was the one who rushed to his side, who carried him to safety. He fell for me instantly, chasing after me with relentless devotion.
He used to be so gentle. So patient. The kind of man who'd remember the little things, who'd hold my hand like I was something precious.
Then Lily happened.
She looked just like his first love. They met through a hiking group, and after their first outing together, he was a different person. Suddenly, every word out of his mouth was about her.
The car jolted violently over the rough mountain road, sending the four-leaf clover pendant I'd given him smacking against the window.
There were two of them—one large, one small. I'd hung the bigger one in his car, kept the smaller one with me. A silly little charm, a wish for safety, for forever.
John glared at the wildly swinging pendant, his jaw tight with irritation. With one sharp yank, he tore it free and hurled it out the window.
But then—something flickered in his expression. He fumbled for his phone, dialing with frantic fingers.
My number.
A bitter laugh caught in my throat. After everything, now he thinks of me?
But how was I supposed to answer?
The call failed. He cursed under his breath, redialing again and again before finally giving up and snatching the radio instead.
"Lucy—tell Mary to stop messing around and get back to camp. Now."
His voice was sharp, clipped.
"And have her prepare something warm. Lily's been out there too long—she'll be freezing when we find her."
He didn't wait for a response, just switched channels, his entire body tense as he called for Lily.
A weak crackle of static—then her voice.
"John…?"
The change was instant. His face lit up, his foot slamming on the brakes as he clutched the radio like a lifeline.
"Lily! Where are you? Are you hurt? Look around—do you see any landmarks?"
Her reply was faint, broken by interference, but he nodded like she was right in front of him. With a grin, he spun the wheel, gunning the engine toward her location.
"Hold on, I'm coming. Just wait for me!"
The car roared to life, leaving everything—including what was left of me—far behind.
End of His Mistress or My Coffin Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to His Mistress or My Coffin book page.