From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 104

**Storm Behind Sleeps by George Orwell 104**

**Chapter 1**

Standing at the precipice of despair, I felt the crushing weight of reality settle heavily upon my shoulders. The impending loss of my mother loomed like a dark cloud, her final wish ringing in my ears: she wanted to see me married. It seemed such a simple desire, yet it felt like an insurmountable mountain, a steep climb I had no idea how to begin.

For twenty-seven agonizing days, I had poured my heart out to Jake Morrison, my boyfriend of six long years, beseeching him to take that step towards marriage with me. Each day, I approached him with a flicker of hope, my heart racing at the thought of finally making my mother proud, of granting her a moment of joy before she departed this world. Yet, Jake appeared ensnared in his own world, oblivious to the urgency of my pleas.

I found myself seated in the sterile, fluorescent-lit County Clerk Office, anticipation swirling in my chest as the minutes ticked away towards closing time. My palms were clammy, slick with anxiety, and the weight of expectation pressed down on me like a heavy shroud. But when the clock struck five, Jake was conspicuously absent.

As if fate were mocking my desperation, that very day, Jake’s childhood sweetheart, Riley Sterling, jubilantly posted their marriage certificate on social media. The caption read: *Time flies—three more days and we’ll be married a whole month.*

A cold wave of realization crashed over me, leaving me gasping for breath. The very first day I had begun my desperate pleas to Jake, he had already tied the knot with his childhood princess. My heart plummeted.

Moments later, my phone buzzed, a text from Jake lighting up the screen. It was a hollow apology, a slap in the face: *Chloe, Riley’s family was forcing her into marriage. I couldn’t watch her marry some random guy and ruin her life.*

His words stung, but I steeled myself as I read on: *Just three more days and we’ll be divorced. I’ll marry you right after.*

Three days later, Jake showed up at the County Clerk Office, dressed in a wedding suit that seemed to mock the chaos in my heart. Yet, all he found awaiting him was a single, resolute message from me: *Jake, goodbye FOREVER.*

In the cold, sterile morgue, I stood over my mother’s still form, tears streaming down my cheeks like a relentless waterfall. The sight of her, once so vibrant and full of life, now lifeless, was a crushing blow that shattered my world.

Mom had dedicated her life to raising me, pouring her heart and soul into my upbringing without ever asking for anything in return. And now, as I faced the harsh reality of her passing, I couldn’t even fulfill her last wish.

When the doctors had delivered the heart-wrenching news about Mom’s condition, I had pleaded with Jake to marry me—not for the sake of a wedding, but so that Mom could leave this world knowing I wouldn’t be alone. I wanted her to feel some semblance of peace in her final moments, knowing I would have someone to lean on.

Day after day, I begged him, my desperation mounting with each passing hour.

On the first day, he had brushed me off with a casual excuse: “Babe, Riley’s car broke down. Gotta go pick her up.”

The second day brought another excuse: “Sorry, helping Riley move today. Rain check?”

As the days turned into weeks, his excuses piled up like a mountain of unfulfilled promises. On day twenty-six, he had texted, *Riley’s stomach thing is acting up again. She really needs me right now.*

If it hadn’t been for that fateful Instagram post revealing his marriage to Riley, I might still have been living in blissful ignorance, crafting elaborate justifications for his behavior. But the bitter truth was hard to swallow; “he’s already married” had never even crossed my mind.

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