All too late novel

Chapter 4 

My wedding to Soren was just half a month 

away. I had admired him for nearly a decade, 

and I felt fortunate when he broke off his 

relationship with Elara and proposed to me. 

Orion, on the other hand, was infatuated with Elara. To ensure his happiness, I accepted Soren’s proposal without hesitation. Even though Soren was quiet and reserved, his emotions had been hidden for two years, and my love seemed to thaw his icy demeanor. 

I knew he star feelings for someone else, 

Added to the library but I rushed 

d thought. After our engagement, we began to live as a typical couple. We cooked together in the kitchen and exchanged tender goodnight hugs. Each morning, I helped him with his tie and saw 

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him off at the elevator, always asking for a kiss 

before he left. 

But this blissful period was short–lived. Elara made her reappearance. The first time Soren got heavily drunk was because of Elara and Orion. The first time he slapped me was also due to their growing closeness. Later, when Elara committed a crime in an argument, he and 

Orion forced me to take the blame. 

Faced with the two men I loved, I ultimately compromised. On the day of my trial, they sat below, anxious and fearful that I might say something unfavorable about Elara. When I confessed, they exchanged barely perceptible smiles. 

In truth, I should have realized sooner that I 

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could never surpass Elara in their hearts. When 

they firmly stood by her side, I shouldn’t have clung to any hope for their support. If only I had recognized the futility of holding onto illusions about family and romantic love, perhaps I wouldn’t have lost my beloved piano. But in this world, there are no “ifs” or regret pills. 

Half a month later, Soren came to see me, but 

this time, Elara was dazzlingly present behind him. “Aria, our wedding is off. I won’t marry a malicious woman like you.” 

I chuckled silently, ignoring his words and lying with my eyes closed on the bed. He was the cause of my current state, yet he still thought I would shamelessly marry him? And he called me malicious? It was utterly laughable. 

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Half a month ago, while Soren was away on a business trip, he had custom–ordered two high–end pianos from abroad. I had pushed open the door to the practice room to find Elara with her hands on one of the pianos. She 

was apologizing profusely, begging me not to damage her piano. Just then, Soren grabbed my arm and threw me aside, sending me crashing heavily to the ground. I remember only Soren’s fist slamming onto the floor and his fierce gaze 

as he stared at me. 

It seemed to be a warning: if anything happened to Elara, I would be held entirely responsible. 

Afterward, when Elara’s hand was injured, the 

doctor said that even if it healed, she would never be able to play the piano again. To appease her anger, Soren didn’t hesitate to 

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break my hand. 

He gripped my chin tightly and demanded that I apologize to Elara. I wept, insisting that it had been an accident, but he still accused me of intentionally harming her. Despite my desperate pleas, he remained convinced that I was envious of Elara and had deliberately sabotaged her ability to play. Even my own brother refused to believe me. 

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