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Reuniting at Journey’s End Novel Cover

Reuniting at Journey’s End

Margot Johanson finally yields to her parents' pressure, agreeing to wed a man she has never truly known. Her fiancé, a handsome heir to a massive family empire, has remained in a coma for several years. While her parents celebrate the lucrative union and the potential of his recovery, Margot harbors a bitter resolve. By accepting this arrangement, she ensures her sister Maisie is spared the same fate, stepping into a mysterious future tied to a sleeping billionaire.
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Chapter 2

When Margot opened her eyes again, night had already fallen.

She glanced around the empty hospital room, a cold smile reaching her eyes.

A nurse entered, holding her medical report. She briefly explained Margot’s condition and informed her to settle the bill and prepare for discharge the next day.

As Margot flipped through her medical records, the phone on the bedside table buzzed incessantly.

The messages were from Maisie.

Maisie had sent dozens of photos, each one flaunting her happiness.

In the images, Joey carried Maisie on his back, walking her home, while Charles, wearing an apron, cooked for her.

The two men surrounded Maisie, their faces brimming with affection.

Piled at their feet were heaps of extravagant gifts.

[Gigi] Maisie wrote smugly.

[Charles and Joey spoil me so much. I must be the happiest little girl in the world!]

Margot glanced at the messages but didn’t reply to a single one.

The next morning, after a night of rest, she completed her discharge procedures and returned home.

As soon as she stepped inside, she saw Charles, Joey, and Maisie gathered on the sofa, watching a movie together.

The two men flanked Maisie protectively. Charles fed her pieces of fruit, while Joey handed her a drink.

The bloodstains that had once marked the floor were gone, thoroughly cleaned away. No one seemed to care.

Margot averted her gaze and silently retreated to her room.

She pulled out a cardboard box and began packing. Piece by piece, she filled the box with belongings until it was overflowing.

Once it was full, she carried the box and walked out.

Not long after, the blaze outside caught Joey and Charles’s attention.

Noticing something was amiss, they both rose from their seats and stepped outside, only to see Margot standing before a large fire pit, throwing items into the roaring flames.

Their hearts sank.

“What are you doing, Gigi?” Joey demanded, his voice tight with alarm.

Margot didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she picked up a veil from the box and held it up, her gaze fixed on Joey.

“Joey, you gave me this when you were seven,” she began, her voice steady but cold.

“We were playing house, and you wouldn’t let anyone else be my groom. You said only I could be your bride.

“You gave me this veil and told me it would be the one I’d wear at our wedding someday.”

Then she tossed the veil into the fire.

The flames consumed it instantly.

Before the shock could register on their faces, she pulled out a charm and looked at Charles.

“Charles, you gave me this when you were fifteen. I was frail and constantly sick back then, always running a fever.

“You couldn’t bear to see me suffer, so you went to Fragrant Hills Church just to pray for my health and safety.”

Once again, Margot threw the item into the fire, her actions swift and resolute.

Next, she pulled out a love letter Joey had written when he confessed his feelings to her.

Then came the glass slippers Charles had gifted her.

After that, it was the princess dress Joey had once given her.

One by one, she threw each token of her past into the flames. Not even the photographs capturing her childhood and youth were spared.

Watching her methodically erase every memory they had shared, Joey could no longer stand it.

He surged forward and grabbed her hand in desperation.

“Gigi, I know you’re still upset about what happened yesterday,” Joey began his tone a mix of frustration and sadness.

“But Maisie is an adopted child. She has never felt secure, and soon, she’ll be marrying into the Stewarts in your place.

“Her days of happiness are numbered. This is something you owe her. Must you fight with her over everything?”

Charles looked at Margot with equal disappointment, a trace of anger creeping into his voice.

“You must have hit your head pretty hard. What Maisie is about to lose is her entire future happiness.

“Maybe Maisie was right—she said you’ve been spoiled rotten and lack even half her maturity!”

Margot shook her head slowly. “No, you’re both wrong.”

It wasn’t Maisie who was going to marry into the Stewart family—it was her.

Without offering any further explanation, she turned and gazed at the smoldering ashes in the fire pit.

Then, without another word, she headed back to her bedroom.

The next morning, as Margot prepared to leave the house, her eyes landed on a pile of gift boxes stacked by the door.

She recognized them instantly. They were from Joey and Charles.

In the past, whenever the two men angered her, they would never allow her to stay upset for more than a day.

Charles, in particular, would camp outside her room, his eyes red with worry.

“Gigi, if you don’t forgive Charles, he won’t leave. He’ll stay here until you do.”

Joey used to show up with a pitiful look, his arms full of gifts.

“Gigi, if you’re still upset, you can hit me or yell at me. Just don’t let it affect your health.”

But this time, neither of them came. Only a cold, lifeless pile of items awaited her.

Margot glanced at the gifts, her expression indifferent. With a self-deprecating smile, she threw everything into the trash can.

Just then, Maisie, who had just gotten up, appeared in the hallway.

She covered her mouth with her hand, feigning surprise.

“Why did you throw everything away, Gigi? Do you think these gifts are beneath you?” she asked in a sickly sweet tone.

“Oh, I told Charles and Joey that you’ve been spoiled since childhood and would definitely find these things unworthy of your attention. I even suggested they give you the original versions of what I have, but they insisted I keep them.

“I’m just a poor, lonely adopted girl, after all. You’re the true lady of the house, but look at how much they dote on you…”

A sneer tugged at the corner of Margot’s lips. Her voice was calm yet sharp. “Then congratulations. This house is all yours now.”

Without waiting for Maisie’s response, Margot turned and walked away, her steps steady and resolute.

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