I Followed Him Off The Edge Chapter 1

The day the Manhattan heiress proposed to my best friend, he stepped off the skyscraper ledge.

“Spencer, I’m sorry, but I have to go home first.”

The scene below was a horrifying splash of red against the white marble. Cordelia Hallowell, the usually ice-cold, aristocratic CEO, screamed. She threw herself onto Jude’s body, clinging to him in a frenzy.

I merely curled my lips in a wry, mocking smile. I backed up a single step, my heels teetering on the terrace edge.

Cordelia’s cousin, Juniper, who was shielded by Cordelia as she cradled a man in her arms, glared up at me.

“What, Spencer? Are you trying to use some cheap, tawdry suicide attempt to force Cordelia to marry you, too?”

The man was already dead.

What use was that slip of a marriage certificate now?

Cordelia, you were never my home. I’m ready to leave this stage.

I tipped backward, my body plummeting toward the earth.

In the instant my weight slammed into the pavement, I heard Cordelia’s raw, gut-wrenching shriek.

* * *

I didn’t die.

The private hospital wholly owned by the Hallowell Group cleared an entire wing just for me.

Within twenty-four hours of my fall, a global consortium of top medical experts held a symposium on my condition.

And Cordelia Hallowell? She became my shadow, personally supervising my care for an entire month.

“Ms. Hallowell truly cares for you, Mr. Hale.”

The attending physician’s tone dripped with envy, his gaze falling to my unmoving legs before a flash of pity crossed his face.

Yes, Cordelia had spent tens of millions to snatch my life back from the abyss.

Unfortunately, money couldn’t solve everything.

My legs were useless, and Jude was gone.

Lying in that sterile room, the days and nights of semi-consciousness were haunted.

I relived the scene of Jude’s jump over and over.

He was wearing the simple white t-shirt we’d arrived in—the one he’d worn five years ago. He leaped from the high-rise, looking heartbreakingly beautiful, like an angel embracing freedom.

He’d told me, “There’s no home for me here, Spencer. Even if there’s only a fifty percent chance, I have to try.”

Five years ago, Jude and I were in a car crash. We woke up here, thrust into this melodrama novel.

To “go home” as quickly as possible, Jude nearly destroyed himself. He pulled Juniper Hallowell, the perpetually suicidal, gloomy girl, back into the light. He became her cause.

As for me, I spent five years, day in and day out, helping Cordelia—the disgraced, exiled cousin—rise to become the CEO of the Hallowell Group.

We had finally done it. The goal was achieved.

A month ago, it was Jude’s birthday.

When Juniper bowed her proud head and made her tearful confession, I saw the shimmer of unshed tears in Jude’s eyes.

Even then, I suspected Jude wouldn’t be coming home with me.

But I never thought he would leave me behind like this.

Dying before the system’s task was complete meant even the fifty percent chance of returning to our original world would likely result in a shattered body from the car crash.

He was decisive. So final.