Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 187

He reached his car and opened the passenger door, then glanced back. Not at her, but at Bullet. His gaze was deep and commanding, an order that couldn’t be disobeyed.

Bullet hesitated, looking up at Yvonne with a soft bark, as if trying to explain. Then, he trotted over to Bennett and hopped into the car.

Bennett closed the door, walked around to the driver’s side, and got in. The engine roared to life, and the SUV sped past her, disappearing into the rain. He never looked at her again.

Yvonne stood under the awning, watching the spot where his car had been, her vision blurring with fresh tears. The old Yvonne was dead. In the years she’d been gone, Bennett had built a new life. She had no right to disturb it. Loving someone didn’t mean clinging to them; sometimes, it meant wanting to reach out, only to pull your hand back.

It was difficult to get a car in the rain. The rideshare she’d called didn’t arrive for another half an hour. By the time she got back to the Spencer estate, she was soaked to the bone. Strands of hair clung to her pale cheeks, and water dripped from the ends, leaving her looking utterly wretched.

Inside the living room, George was sitting on the sofa sipping coffee, with Queena and Joseph on either side of him. The three of them were laughing, enjoying a pleasant family moment. Teresa emerged from the kitchen with a platter of fruit, smiling as she set it on the coffee table.

Yvonne stood in the doorway, taking in the scene of domestic harmony. All she could see was Lucien’s body under a white sheet, his parents’ heart-wrenching sobs, and Marina lying in a hospital bed, trapped between life and death. And the architect of all this misery was here, enjoying a peaceful evening with his adoring family.

“A car crash, apparently. One dead, one injured. It’s all over the news, another public spectacle,” Queena said, lounging on the sofa as if discussing a stranger. “First the scandal, now this. It’s terribly unlucky to end up in a coma.”

“Some people just aren’t destined for good fortune,” George mused. “You give them wealth, and they can’t handle it. Others, like our Queena, are born for it—a lifetime of luxury.”

“That’s right,” Teresa chimed in. “Once Queena marries into the Rogers family, she’ll be set for life.” She then turned her gaze to Yvonne.