Reborn, Reawakened, Rekindled novel Chapter 665

"I'm not upset, I just think Neil's underestimating me, that's all. Just pass him the message, will you?" I replied, my tone was calm, almost indifferent.

Mitch let out a heavy sigh, "You two are really..."

I didn't wait for him to finish. Instead, I walked back into the living room and sat down, resuming my chat with Stella and the others.

Seeing me return, Stella leaned in and whispered, "What's the plan now? He hasn't figured it out, has he?"

"We stick to the original plan," I answered coolly.

Neil only keeps his distance when I'm single. The moment he senses I might actually be moving on with someone else, he gets jealous. Old habits die hard, after all.

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Stella and the others could stay for about a week, so we had to hustle to get the wedding organized as quickly as possible.

Choosing the venue was easy; the beach was close by. But getting a wedding dress on short notice meant we had to go with something off the rack.

The wedding team we hired was working around the clock at the beach, setting things up, and Stella and the group were all hands on deck. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement.

"Serena, you can't go there!"

"Brandon, don't touch that, it's meant to stay here."

"He might be hungry, Rena, go make some formula."

It was the day before the wedding, and we were all busy with the preparations. Even my parents brought the kids along, though in the rush, we forgot to bring formula. My mom mentioned it to me.

Since things were mostly set up, I nodded, hopped on a golf cart, and headed back home to prepare some bottles for the little ones. Then I planned to head back to the beach.

That's when I saw Kitty coming out of the neighboring house, her eyes red from crying. She seemed surprised to see me, then walked over. "Irene, got a minute?"

"I just came back to make some formula for the kids. What's up?" I glanced over to her yard, but it was empty.

"If you're not too busy, could you try talking to Neil? Today was supposed to be his physiotherapy session, but he's throwing a tantrum, broke a bunch of stuff, and refuses to go to the hospital," Kitty said, her voice filled with hurt. "I asked him if it was because you and Russel are getting married tomorrow, and that's why he's upset. He won't admit it."

Russel told me before, ever since his accident, Neil's become unpredictable, his temper short.

Kitty's been steadfast by his side this past year, which is commendable. Seeing her so distressed, I frowned, "Do you think he'll listen to me? If I show up now, it might just make him angrier."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, quickly masking his emotions with a cold indifference.

"Kitty mentioned you're skipping your physiotherapy. Planning to stay in that wheelchair forever?" I walked over, yanked the curtains wide open, and challenged him, "If you want to watch, be bold about it. When I chased you, I had the guts. Remember?"

Neil scoffed, a dismissive look crossing his face, "You think too highly of yourself. You believe I'm avoiding therapy because of you?"

I met his gaze squarely, "Isn't it? Tomorrow's my wedding with Russel. No, since you found out, what, a week ago? You've skipped your sessions. All because of me, right?"

Neil had always thought my relationship with Russel was a facade. Now, with the wedding setup done and invites sent, I was the talk of the town for this elaborate 'act.' But I was ready for it.

This was my choice, and I was prepared for the consequences.

"You're as self-absorbed as ever. I've just grown accustomed to this life. Whether I go to therapy or not doesn't matter, get it?" Neil's words dripped with sarcasm, untouched by my provocation.

I stepped closer, looking down at him in his wheelchair. It had been a year since we were this close. Our recent encounters were brief and distant.

His eyes, shadowed with fatigue, avoided mine, "Anything else? I need to rest."

In the bedroom, chaos reigned. Pillows, mugs, books, and a smartphone lay scattered across the floor in disarray, casualties of his recent outburst. Yet, amidst the wreckage, there sat on the desk an untouched anomaly - our wedding album. Unlike everything else in the room, it was in pristine condition, as if shielded from the storm of his temper. The pages filled with snapshots of laughter, dances, and the cutting of a grand, three-tiered cake, remained perfectly intact, a silent testament to the memories we once cherished together.