My Fiancé Chose Her So I Chose Myself Chapter 24
A week later, the music box was returned to my office in London.
My lawyer asked me to confirm its condition. Inside the box was a witness-certified copy of Brooke’s signed statement.
She retold the story of that morning three years ago.
She had entered my apartment with the keycode, pushed open my bedroom door, and pulled open the drawer. She had heard me say it was a birthday gift, and she still stuffed the box into her bag.
She also admitted that the promise to “borrow it for a few days” had never been honored.
Every word matched my memory exactly.
The lid of the box had several new scratches. The oil stain at the bottom had sunk deep into the grain of the wood. When I wound it, no music played.
I looked at it for a long time.
Three years ago, I had thought I didn’t care anymore. In truth, I had just been too tired—too tired to protect even the things I loved.
Now, I was taking it back not because it had come from Travis.
It was mine. That was enough.
Marissa knocked and came in, setting a stack of meeting materials on my desk.
She saw the music box and paused.
“This is it?”
“This is it.”