Chapter 4

"I knew you'd make a scene once you found out, but I never thought you'd go this far," Marian snapped. "Are you trying to drive your brother into an early grave?"

Eleanor helped Jeremy to his feet.

Those eyes, once so tender and full of love, were now filled with disgust and disappointment.

"Simon, I thought you could be a little more generous toward Jeremy for my sake. I never imagined you could be this selfish and cruel.

"Take some time to think about what you've done. When you've come to your senses, I'll come back for you."

Before they left, Poppy ran at Simon, crying, and shoved him to the floor with all her strength.

"Papa Jeremy has it hard enough already. Don't you dare pick on him! You're a bad guy, and I hate you! You deserve to get bullied online!"

The door slammed shut, and Simon's heart clenched.

Bullied online? What was she talking about?

He fumbled for his phone in a panic, and the first thing he saw was a trending headline.

[Famous Pilot Simon Radcliffe Steals His Own Brother's Wife!]

Countless strangers who knew nothing of the truth called him a gold digger and a kept man, flooding the comments with filth too vile to read.

Some had maliciously photoshopped a picture of him in his flight uniform into a funeral portrait, telling him to hurry up and die.

Others went further, reporting him to the flight squadron for misconduct and demanding severe punishment.

Before Simon could offer a single word of explanation, the squadron's official website had wiped every honor he had spent half his life risking his neck to earn.

Kevin, now the squadron commander, responded to the public outcry directly from his personal account.

Kevin: [Thank you all for bringing this to our attention. Pilot Simon Radcliffe will be dismissed from the squadron.]

When Eleanor and Marian liked the post, it sealed Simon's disgrace for good.

All the strength drained out of him, and his tears fell one by one onto the floor.

He remembered how his father, Robert Radcliffe, had always favored the sickly Jeremy back when he was still alive.

Whenever the two of them got into trouble together, only Simon was punished. When only five strawberries were left in the house, his father always gave Jeremy three. When Jeremy scored a 61 on a test, his father praised him for trying so hard. The one time Simon scored a 99, his father pulled out a ruler and lectured him about goofing off.

Every time, his mother took his side and confronted his father, her voice full of hurt. "Robert, don't forget that Simon is our own flesh and blood."

Every time Simon stormed out of the house after a fight with his father, Eleanor was always there to comfort him gently.

"It's okay. Your dad might not care about you, but I do. No matter what happens, I'll always be on your side."

When Kevin heard about all this, he had clapped Simon on the shoulder, his face full of sympathy.

"Simon, from now on, you've got me. I'll never let anyone treat you like that again."

None of them were there for him anymore.

Simon curled up on the cold floor, clutching the empty leg of his pants as tears fell in silence.

None of them showed up again for the next few days.

Through every night he woke from nightmares as phantom limb pain flared, every dressing change that tore the gauze away along with newly healed flesh, and every agonizing session of learning to stand that left his clothes soaked in sweat, Simon gritted his teeth and endured it alone.

On the day he was discharged, Simon was packing his things when Eleanor pushed the door open and set the squadron's dismissal notice on the table.

"Your leg is ruined, and so is your reputation. I'm sure you've had plenty of time to think things over by now."

Simon gave a bitter laugh. "And if I say I haven't, what's next? Will I get doxxed by the whole internet?"

Eleanor's brow tightened.

"Simon, stop being so stubborn. You've gone after Jeremy over and over again. This is just a slap on the wrist. You've learned your lesson, and as long as you stop giving Jeremy a hard time, we'll treat you well."

With that, she took the clothes from him without asking and reached for his hand.

"It hurts me to see you like this, too. Let's stop fighting. Come home with me."

Her hand was soft and warm. Simon's heart, however, had long since stopped feeling any warmth.

When they arrived home, Simon immediately noticed that every bellflower Eleanor had once planted for him in the backyard had been torn out.

A crew was building a huge temporary stage on the bare ground, and a bull was penned inside a fence off to one side.

Eleanor's voice was a little stiff. "Simon, I'll replant the flowers for you later.

"Jeremy wanted to see a circus, but he's too weak to travel, so I had a circus troupe come put on a show for him here at the house."

Jeremy again.

A lump rose in Simon's throat as he remembered Eleanor planting that whole field of flowers herself, one by one.

Back then, she had been covered in dirt, her hands full of scrapes, yet her smile had been radiant.

"Bellflowers stand for everlasting love. I'm going to take good care of them until the day we both grow old."

There had been a time when even one wilted flower would keep Simon up at night.

Now he only shook his head calmly. "Don't bother."

The love was long gone, the flowers were dead, and he, too, was leaving soon.

Leaning on his crutches, Simon slowly made his way to his room.

Just as he passed the fence, the bull that had been docile a moment earlier began snorting heavily. It suddenly went wild, smashed through the fence, and charged straight at Simon.