Chapter 2

The cold floor of the clinic crept up to the tips of my toes. I stood frozen behind a large pillar, watching the man who looked exactly like Mike disappear behind the teak wood door of a VIP room.

The phone in my hand vibrated.

An incoming message notification from Mike:

“The meeting was moved up, Honey. I’m heading straight to the field after this. Don’t forget to take your vitamins.”

I stared at the screen with a bitter smile. A lie so smooth, as if it had been practiced a thousand times.

The nameplate beside the door read: Internal Medicine Specialist.

I immediately hid when I saw that Mike was not alone. He was holding the hand of a woman wearing a bright red dress, a sharp contrast to my boring clothes.

They shared a small laugh, a sight I hadn't seen in our home for the past year.

I followed them to the parking lot, then hailed a taxi to tail Mike’s car as it sped toward the city center.

The journey ended at a grand building with a shimmering glass facade: The Grand Astoria Hotel.

I stood in front of that hotel, a hotel far too luxurious for a "sudden business trip."

The warm golden lights of the lobby seemed to mock the cold spreading through my chest.

I went in not as a wife looking to cause a scene.

I went in as a woman wanting to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

The elevator rose slowly… Every glowing number on the panel felt like a countdown to the destruction of my life.

Ding…!

The seventh-floor corridor was silent. The thick carpet muffled my footsteps, but it couldn't muffle the frantic beating of my heart.

At the end of the hallway, the door to room 36 was not fully closed. From that narrow gap, a woman's soft laughter could be heard.

I knew that voice. I knew it all too well.

I stepped closer, my heart beating erratically.

Through the gap of the unlatched door, I saw Mike. He stood without his suit jacket, looking so relaxed. And in front of him, with her arms wrapped around my husband’s neck, was Lucy.

The best friend who, all this time, had been the place where I poured out all my grievances about Mike.

The best friend who had dinner at my house every week.

"Mike, when are you going to tell her?" Lucy’s voice sounded playful; her fingers toyed with the buttons of Mike’s shirt.

"I’m tired of having to keep pretending to be a 'good listener' for her complaints every day."

"Be patient, Honey," Mike kissed Lucy’s forehead, a gesture that usually belonged only to me.

"Bella is easy to fool. She’s too busy with the house and her clinic to realize what’s happening right under her own nose."

The world felt like it collapsed and stopped.

There were no tears. There were no screams.

Only a body that felt empty; every voice inside my head vanished in an instant.

The door creaked softly when I accidentally brushed against it while trying to back away.

Mike turned. His face froze.

“Bella…”

The name came out like a mistake.

Lucy turned around. Her face went pale for a moment, but changed in an instant.

It wasn't panic that I saw in her eyes, but a cold flash of victory.

“How long?” my voice came out, thin but sharp.

My question was more honest than any words.

Mike tried to approach. “I can explain.”

“Enough!” I screamed.

I couldn't stand breathing the same air as them anymore.

The scent of Lucy’s perfume mixed with Mike’s body odor made me nauseous.

I turned quickly, intending to run from this cursed room!

However, only two steps toward the door, a hard jerk on my shoulder sent me staggering back inside.

Lucy pulled my hair from behind, her strength so immense that I fell onto the carpet.

“Where do you think you’re going, Bella? You think you can just leave and destroy everything I’ve built with Mike?”

“Let go!” I struggled, trying to stand up and push her.

“You’re both sick! You’re my best friend, Lucy! How could you do this?”

“Best friend?” Lucy laughed cynically; she pushed me until my back hit the table.

“I’m sick of hearing that word. I’m sick of seeing you show off your happiness every day while I have to be your shadow!”

I tried to reach for my phone on the floor, but Lucy was faster.

She kicked the phone until it was thrown under the bed.

I tried to scratch her arm, but she grabbed my throat, pinning my body to the table. Her eyes, usually friendly, had now turned dark, full of madness.

Lucy’s hand felt along the surface of the table behind my body.

Her fingers found a fruit knife lying beside a porcelain plate containing apple slices.

“Lucy, stop! Don’t be crazy!” Mike shouted from the corner of the room, yet that coward still didn't move to pull Lucy away from me.

“She’ll destroy your career, Mike! She’ll report us!” Lucy screamed without taking her eyes off me.

In one swift motion fueled by adrenaline and hatred, Lucy raised the knife.

Shhk…

The cold metal pierced my stomach.

I gasped; a burning heat instantly spread through all my nerves.

I stared at Lucy in disbelief, but she didn't stop.

She pulled the knife out and stabbed it once more, this time deeper into my chest.

“Die in peace, Bella. You never deserved to have him,” Lucy whispered right in my ear.

I slumped slowly down the leg of the table.

Warm blood began to soak the thick, luxurious carpet.

My vision began to blur, staring at the room’s ceiling which seemed to be spinning.

The last thing I heard was the sound of Lucy’s heavy breathing and the sound of Mike’s footsteps backing away…

I woke up with one very deep breath, as if my lungs had just been given life again.

It wasn't a sharp pain that I felt.

I stared blankly for a few seconds.

My heart was beating fast, but there was no pain.

No wounds… This was my room.

The cream-colored sheets and the wall clock ticking softly—sounds I shouldn't have been able to hear anymore.

I ran to the mirror…

The reflection showed a younger face.

Eyes that hadn't yet been exhausted by betrayal.

I grabbed the phone on the bed.

The screen lit up showing the date:

November 12, 2025 - 07:46 a.m.

Exactly seven months before my wedding day.

I clutched my chest and stomach, my breath coming in gasps. The memory of Lucy stabbing me was still intact; I could still feel the sensation of that cold metal in my stomach.

But this time, I won't let those hands touch me again.

“If this is a second chance…”

I whispered to the reflection in the glass. “I won’t live the same life.”

I have no intention of being the victim.

This time, I’m the one who will hold the knife and dissect your lies until there is nothing left.