Chapter 7 – Mrs. Walters
+ 5 Points
Chapter 7 – Mrs. Walters
Noelle’s POV
A soft knock stirred me from sleep, followed by the muted shuffle of footsteps. Two maids entered with polite smiles and a practiced grace.
“Good morning, ma’am,” one greeted, dipping into a small curtsey. “Sir Vernon asked us to help you get ready.”
“Ready?” I rasped, still tangled in sleep.
“For the ceremony,” the other said, lifting a pale silk dress and a pair of ivory heels.
Ah. The courthouse wedding.
I swung my legs over the bed and let them
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begin. Neither spoke much. They simply moved like clockwork–combing my hair, applying faint makeup, slipping the dress up my frame, zipping it into place with efficient familiarity.
When they stepped back, I stood before the mirror.
The woman staring back wasn’t the one I’d known. I couldn’t remember the last time I looked… polished.
The door creaked. Vernon entered, dressed in a sleek black suit. He paused when he saw me, lips curving with quiet admiration.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “But then again, you always have been.”
I turned, lips twitching. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
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He reached for my hand, kissed it gently. The touch was too tender, too careful.
I recoiled slightly.
He didn’t flinch. “It’s alright,” he said softly. “You don’t have to feel anything yet. Not today!”
My gaze fell. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel anything again.”
“I’ll still be here,” he promised. “No rush. Heal at your pace.”
I nodded, voice low. “Right now, all I want is vengeance.”
“Then let’s begin,” he said, offering his arm.
I slipped mine through his, and together, we
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bleft.
The courthouse was quiet, modest. Marble floors, a few floral touches. No guests. No spectacle.
Exactly what I needed.
Still, as I stood before the registrar, pen trembling in my hand, my mind drifted.
James.
“Noelle,” he had once teased, eyes bright with hope, “if you marry Christopher without a giant–ass Cinderella wedding, I’m disowning you. I’m walking you down that aisle, remember?”
“I don’t care about weddings,” I’d laughed. “I care about you getting better”
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rolled his eyes. “My new heart’ll
t29bomp. Just wait. I’m walking you down, no eup on what.”
21091 9
re stubborn.”
st run in the family.”
nim vichest tightened.
rnon leaned closer. “You alright?”
9269nodded and signed.
bride followed suit.
16
“With the authority vested in me by the State, I now pronounce you legally married. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Walters.”
I blinked.
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Noelle Walters.
Not Nichols.
Vernon had taken his mother’s name–the lesser–acknowledged, but most valued line of
the family legacy.
The car ride home passed in silence. When we arrived, he opened the door like he always had.
“No more guest rooms,” he said quietly. “Your real space is ready.”
He led me down a familiar hallway and opened a door.
Warm golden light spilled out. The air smelled of lavender. Every detail- intentional. Intimate.
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“I always believed you’d come back,” Vernon said, voice barely above a whisper. “Even after you left me for him.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You were in love,” he replied. “And now… you’re not. That’s enough.”
I said nothing.
I slipped into my studio, needing space to breathe.
Everything was untouched.
༠༠༤༤༤
Sketches lined the walls–dresses, shoes, jewelry, veils. My world, preserved.
Then my eyes landed on one particular drawing.
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A ring. Thin gold band. Twin sapphires flanking a diamond.
The design I had once dreamed of for myself.
I had shown it to Christopher. Told him it was the one I wanted.
And then I saw it. On Jocelyn’s hand, in that smug Facebook post.
He’d stolen it.
Given it to her.
My fists clenched.
A knock broke the moment.
A servant entered, holding a cloth–wrapped bundle. “Ma’am. This was left on the jet. It
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Chapter 7 Mrs. Walters.
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hasn’t stopped ringing.”
My phone.
I hadn’t seen it since I fled New York.
I powered it on.
Twenty–seven missed calls from Christopher. Four from Jocelyn. Two from my father.
Dozens of messages:
Noelle, what the hell have you done?
Come back. Let’s talk.
We can fix this.
You’ve lost your mind.
And finally-
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I’m sorry.
Please. Answer me.
Talk to me, Noelle.
I scoffed.
Then it rang again.
I answered.
Silence.
Then, “Noelle…”
I said nothing.
“Please. Where are you? Why are you doing this?”
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Still, I stayed quiet.
“I was angry, okay? You went too far, but we can fix this. Come home. Let’s fix it.”
Silence stretched.
Then I spoke. “You made your decision, Christopher.”
“Don’t end it this way.”
“You watched me bleed alone on a hospital floor. You don’t get to beg now.”
He fell silent.
“I don’t want to hear from you again. Even if you’re drowning–don’t reach for me. I’ll be the one watching as you sink.”
I ended the call.
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Blocked the number.
Another call came in from a new one.
I didn’t even glance at the screen.
I powered the phone off.
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