CHAPTER ONE: SHATTERED

"Ohh, baby push it more, harder. It's the sweetest food I ever had today. Come again, ohh no, you know how to do it well."

The voice drifted through the hospital corridor, breathy and raw with pleasure.

Maya's sneakers squeaked against the polished floor as she stopped mid-step. Her hands tightened around the plastic bags she carried. Protein bars. Fresh clothes. The expensive dark chocolate James loved.

"I really need to reward you more, with this my big thick thing. I know you want it badly."

A woman's sultry laugh echoed from behind the partially closed door. "Just give it to me slowly and roughly because I want to go more crazy for you more than ever."

Room 304. James's room.

Foolish Maya never knew, it was only this way I can get better on this sick bed. All she does is carry medicine around the hospital.

Maya's heart slammed against her ribs. That voice. She knew that voice. Deep. Masculine. The same voice that always said "I'm too tired tonight" whenever she reached for him in bed.

But she'd never heard it sound like this. Alive. Desperate. Hungry.

James had been admitted to the hospital three days ago, unconscious when his work colleagues rushed him in after what they'd called a sudden collapse. Three days of Maya barely leaving his bedside. Monitoring his vitals every hour. Adjusting IV drips. Calling in favors from specialists. Using her connections to get him the best care.

She'd held his limp hand. Whispered reassurances to his unhearing ears. Promised him she'd be there when he woke up.

Just an hour ago, the attending physician had told her James was stable. "Go home, Maya. Get some rest. Shower. Eat something real. You look like you're about to collapse."

So she had. She'd dragged herself to her tiny apartment, stood under the shower until the water ran lukewarm, forced down half a sandwich her stomach didn't want. She'd put on the navy blue dress James bought her last Christmas. Done her makeup. Applied the cherry lip gloss he once said looked nice on her.

She stopped at the store on the way back, spending money she didn't have on his favorite things. Thirty-seven dollars and forty-two cents. Her checking account now sat at two hundred and sixteen dollars until next week's paycheck.

Her savings account. Eighteen thousand dollars, carefully accumulated over five years of nursing. Gone. Drained. Every penny poured into James's dreams.

Medical school tuition when his loans weren't enough. Rent for his studio apartment in the expensive part of town because he needed to be "near campus." Car payments on the Audi that would "make the right impression." Bar tabs with his study group. New clothes for interviews. Emergency cash when he "miscalculated" his budget.

All of it, Maya's money.

And now, standing outside his hospital room, she heard sounds that made her stomach twist into knots.

Her heart dropped. No. She was overthinking. Maybe it was the television. Maybe he'd woken up and turned on some movie. Maybe she was imagining things because she was exhausted and paranoid and.

Another moan. Feminine. Real. Close.

Maya's feet moved without conscious thought. Three steps to the door. Her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. The door was already cracked open, just a few inches.

She peered through the gap.

Her heart didn't just skip. It stopped completely.

The woman's body was barely covered. Naked from the waist up, the hospital gown bunched around her hips. She was on top of James, her dark hair cascading down her back as she leaned forward. His hardness was deep in her mouth, her head bobbing up and down in a steady, practiced rhythm.

Maya used to admire that thickness. That length. The few times James had allowed her to see it, touch it. But he never made her enjoy it. Always had excuses to push her away. "I'm tired." "Not tonight." "You're doing it wrong." "Just forget it."

But now, watching through the crack in the door, Maya saw something she'd never witnessed in three years.

James was happy. Genuinely, radiantly happy.

He grabbed the woman's hair with both hands, his fingers tangling in the dark strands. His head thrown back against the pillow, mouth open, moaning without restraint. Loud enough that anyone passing in the hallway could hear. He'd forgotten he was in a hospital room. Or maybe he just didn't care.

Maya turned away, pressing her back against the wall. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Tears burned hot trails down her cheeks, ruining the makeup she'd so carefully applied.

She'd loved him. God, she'd loved him so much. Given him everything. Her money. Her time. Her heart. Three years of believing that if she just tried harder, loved him better, supported him more, he would finally love her back the way she needed.

And this. This was how he repaid her.

Maya pressed harder against the wall, trying to steady herself. Should she go in? Confront them? Or should she walk away, pretend she'd never seen this, save herself the humiliation?

She looked again through the crack. She couldn't help it. Some masochistic part of her needed to see.

The woman had moved. She was straddling him now, riding him with expert precision. James's hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh. His mouth found her breast, latching onto her pink, hardened nipple as she moved her waist up and down, grinding against him.

"Yes, James. Just like that. Oh god, yes."

She moaned his name slowly, reverently, throwing her head back as he thrust up into her. The bed creaked with each powerful movement. He was pounding into her with a ferocity Maya had never experienced. Had never even known he was capable of it.

Maya's face burned red from crying. He had never handled her like this. Never touched her with such raw passion. Never looked at her the way he was looking at this woman. Like she was everything. Like he couldn't get enough.

She never knew James was so good in bed. Because he'd never been good with her. He'd never tried.

Why did he hate her so much? Why had he treated her so unfairly, never making her feel like the woman she was? What was wrong with her that he could give this stranger everything he'd denied Maya for three years?

The plastic bag in Maya's hand slipped from her numb fingers. It hit the floor with a dull thud that echoed down the empty hallway.

The creaking stopped.

"What was that?"

"Shit. Someone's outside."

Maya should have run. Should have disappeared before they could see her. But her feet were rooted to the floor, her body frozen in shock and heartbreak.

The door swung open.

James stood there, completely naked. His cock still semi-erect, glistening with the woman's wetness. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. His expression was annoyed. Inconvenienced. Like Maya was an unwelcome interruption to his evening plans.

"Oh. Maya. You're here."

Three words. Flat. Empty. Like she was a stranger who'd wandered into the wrong room.

Maya opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her breath was too heavy from crying. Her throat had closed completely around the words trying to escape.

Behind James, the woman was scrambling to cover herself with the thin hospital sheet. But not before Maya got a good look at her face.

Jennifer. One of the new nurses on the cardiac floor. Young. Pretty. Twenty-three, maybe twenty-four. Maya had helped train her two months ago. Had shown her how to properly insert IVs, how to read the monitors, how to comfort patients during their most vulnerable moments.

James sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Well, maybe it's time we end this," he said, his tone conversational. Matter-of-fact. "It's good you know now."

Maya stared at him. End this?

"You're not good enough for me, Maya." He said it simply, like stating an obvious truth. "I've been keeping you because of my medical school fees. You had to know that, right? I mean, come on. Why else would I stay with someone like you?"

The words landed like physical blows. Each one carefully chosen. Deliberately cruel.

"And now you found out, so let's just end this. No one wants to be with a boring girl like you who's not good for anything."

Something inside Maya snapped. her heart had already shattered.

Her hand moved before her brain could catch up. The slap echoed through the hallway like a gunshot, sharp and satisfying.

James's head snapped to the side. A red handprint bloomed on his cheek. For a split second, genuine surprise flashed across his face. Then rage twisted his features into something ugly.

"You fucking bitch…"

"Get your hands off him!" Jennifer jumped out of the bed, the sheet wrapped hastily around her naked body. She shoved Maya hard, her palms connecting with Maya's shoulders.

Maya stumbled backward, her spine hitting the opposite wall. Pain radiated through her back.

"You just interrupted our romantic moment and you still have the guts to slap him?" Jennifer's face was flushed with indignation, her eyes blazing. "He doesn't want you anymore! Can't you take a hint?"

Romantic moment. As if what Maya had witnessed was some beautiful love story and not a betrayal that had gutted her completely.

James moved fast. He grabbed Maya's arm, his fingers digging in with bruising force.

He dragged her away from the door, into the hallway, and shoved her with enough violence that she nearly fell. Her hip slammed into the edge of a medical cart. Pain exploded through her pelvis.

"Stay away from my room," James snarled. "We're done. Don't come back."

The door slammed shut with a finality that echoed down the empty corridor.

Maya stood there, frozen. Her bags were scattered at her feet. Her purse had spilled open, contents strewn across the polished linoleum. Lipstick. Wallet. Keys. The little bottle of perfume she'd dabbed on her wrists before coming back, hoping James would notice.

Through the door, she could hear them.

Laughter. High and cruel from Jennifer. Deep and satisfied from James.

"God, I thought she'd never leave," Jennifer said.

"Forget about her." James's voice was muffled but clear enough. "She's pathetic. Now, where were we?"

The sound of kissing. Then the bed creaking again, resuming its rhythmic pattern.

"Mmm, yes baby. Right there."

"That's it. Ride me just like that."

More laughter. More moans. They weren't even trying to be quiet. They wanted her to hear. Wanted her to know exactly how replaceable she was. How little she'd ever mattered.

Maya's legs gave out. She sank to the floor, her back against the cold wall, her dress riding up around her thighs. The navy blue dress James had bought her. She'd thought it meant something. Thought it proved he cared.

But he'd probably bought it with her money anyway. Everything he had, everything he was, she'd paid for.

The tears came in waves. Violent, body-shaking sobs that she couldn't control. Her chest heaved. Snot ran from her nose. Her carefully applied mascara streaked down her face in black rivers.

Eighteen thousand dollars. Three years of her life. Her self-respect. Her ability to trust. Her belief that love was real.

All of it, destroyed in the space of five minutes.

And the worst part? The absolutely devastating part? She'd seen the proof. James was capable of passion. Of desire. Of treating a woman like she was precious, wanted and sexy.

He just wasn't capable of it with her.

The problem wasn't that James couldn't love. It was that he couldn't love her.

She wasn't enough. Had never been enough. Would never be enough for him.

Maya burst through the hospital doors, tears streaming down her face. The night air hit her but she barely felt it. She just needed to move, to get away from James's laughter still echoing in her ears.

Boring. Not good for anything.

She stumbled forward blindly, her vision blurred. Her shoulder slammed into something solid. A man crumpled to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"Oh god, I'm sorry…"

Maya dropped to her knees. Blood seeped between his fingers where he clutched his side. His eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide. Drugged. Definitely drugged.