Chapter 5

The morning light hurt my eyes when I opened them, streaming through unfamiliar curtains in a room that wasn't mine.

Sophia's guest bedroom was small and cramped, nothing like the spacious master suite I'd left behind. But it felt like a cocoon where nothing could reach me.

I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through my ribs, reminding me that I was still broken in more ways than one.

"Stay down." Sophia appeared in the doorway carrying a tray with pills and water. "Doctor's orders, remember? Complete rest for at least two weeks."

I took the medication she offered, swallowing the bitter pills with lukewarm water. Everything tasted like ash anyway, so what did it matter?

"How long have I been asleep?" My voice came out rough and scratchy.

"Fourteen hours." She sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mixture of relief and concern. "Your body needed it. You've been through hell, Krista."

Hell. That was one word for it.

I looked around the small room, taking in the peeling wallpaper and the crack in the ceiling. This was my life now, reduced to a borrowed bedroom in my best friend's cramped apartment.

No mansion. No luxury car. No husband or son.

The thought should have terrified me, but all I felt was relief.

"I need to get up," I said, pushing aside the blankets. "I need to start figuring things out."

Sophia didn't argue, just helped me to my feet and guided me to the bathroom. Every step felt like walking on broken glass, but I gritted my teeth and kept moving.

When I finally made it to the living room, I found my two suitcases sitting by the door, looking pathetically small. Four years of marriage, and this was all I had to show for it.

"Coffee?" Sophia asked, already heading to the kitchen.

"Please."

I lowered myself onto the couch, moving carefully to avoid aggravating my injuries. The apartment was quiet except for the sounds of traffic from the street below and the gurgle of the coffee maker.

This was real. I'd actually left.

Sophia returned with two mugs and sat beside me, close but not touching. "So what's the plan?"

"I don't know." The admission felt both freeing and terrifying. "I need to file the divorce papers with the court. Open my own bank account. Find a lawyer."

"I can help with the lawyer part," Sophia said. "One of my colleagues specializes in family law. She's good, and she hates men who abuse their wives."

The word abuse hung in the air between us. I'd never called it that before, never let myself acknowledge what my marriage really was.

"Krista." Sophia's voice was gentle but firm. "We need to talk about the last four years."

I stared into my coffee, watching the steam rise and dissipate. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad." She set her mug down with a sharp click. "You wasted four years of your life on a man who treated you like garbage. You gave up your dreams, your career, everything that made you special. And for what?"

"I was trying to save my father's business," I whispered.

"And did it work?" The question was harsh but necessary. "Did your sacrifice save anything?"

"No." The word tasted like defeat. "The business failed six months after I got married. Dad lost everything anyway."

"So you stayed for nothing." Sophia's hand found mine, squeezing tight. "You stayed and let that bastard destroy you for absolutely nothing."

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I'd cried enough in that house, alone in my separate bedroom, wondering why I wasn't good enough to love.

"I stayed for Tyler," I said. " he was my son. I thought if I just tried harder, loved him more, he would eventually love me back."

"But he never did."

"No." The admission hurt worse than my broken ribs. "He hated me from the start, and I never understood why."

Sophia was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer. "It's not your fault. Kids learn hate from their parents. Alex taught Tyler to despise you."

I knew she was right, but the knowledge didn't make it hurt any less.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked.

I looked at my suitcases, at the meager possessions I'd managed to salvage from my old life. Then I remembered something.

"Can you get me the smaller suitcase?"

Sophia retrieved it, and I unzipped the top, digging through clothes until I found what I was looking for. My old portfolio from Parsons, the leather cover worn and faded from years of storage.

I opened it with trembling hands, and suddenly I was twenty-two again, full of dreams and ambition. My sketches stared back at me, designs for collections I'd never created, visions of a career I'd abandoned.

"I forgot how good you were," Sophia breathed, looking over my shoulder. "Krista, these are incredible."

I traced my finger over a sketch of an evening gown, remembering the late nights in the studio, the smell of coffee and fabric sizing, the pure joy of creation.

"I gave this up," I whispered. "I had offers from three major houses, and I turned them all down to marry Alex."

"So get it back." Sophia's voice was fierce. "You're only twenty-eight. You have time to rebuild everything you lost."

Twenty-eight. Still young, technically. But I felt ancient, worn down by years of criticism and neglect.

"I don't know if I can," I admitted.

"Yes, you can." Sophia grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. "You survived being hit by a car and abandoned by your own family. You survived four years of abuse. You can survive this too."

I wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe that I could reclaim the dreams I'd buried.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, making us both jump. I glanced at the screen and saw Alex's name, the fifth call in as many hours.

"He won't stop," I said.

"Then we block his number."

"He'll just find another way to contact me. He always does."

As if to prove my point, the apartment buzzer rang, sharp and insistent.

Sophia and I exchanged glances. She stood and walked to the intercom, pressing the button.

"Who is it?"

"It's the pizza you ordered," a male voice said, but it didn't sound like any delivery driver I'd ever heard.

"We didn't order pizza," Sophia said.

The buzzer rang again, more aggressive this time.

Sophia cursed under her breath and grabbed her keys. "Stay here. I'll handle this."

I watched her disappear into the hallway.

Then I heard her voice, loud and angry. "You have some nerve showing up here."

My stomach dropped.

I forced myself to stand, ignoring the pain, and made my way to the apartment door. I pulled it open and looked down the stairwell just as Sophia stepped aside.

Alex stood in the doorway, his expensive suit rumpled, his hair disheveled like he hadn't slept. But it was his expression that made me freeze.

He looked pitiful, broken, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate as they locked onto mine.