Chapter 4

Still, I couldn't help feeling a little relieved.

Maybe losing those seven years of memories wasn't such a bad thing after all. It had taken seven years, but at least I could finally start living for myself again.

I pushed the thought aside and smiled. "Relax. I've already hired a realtor to sell the house. Once we divide the assets, I'll finally be free of that uptight, old-fashioned jerk. And then—"

A cold voice came from the doorway.

"Willow, say that again."

I turned around and froze.

Martin? What was he doing here? Didn't he hate the smell of smoke and alcohol?

"What do you want? Shouldn't you be off taking care of your precious Evelyn?"

To my surprise, Martin didn't get angry. He just stared at me for a long moment. "It's midnight. You promised you'd be home by 10:00 pm."

I scoffed. He had to be out of his mind.

"We're getting divorced. What makes you think you still get to tell me what to do?"

Martin didn't look surprised. He pulled a bank card from his bag and held it out to me. "Isn't this what you want? Money? How much is it this time? Three million dollars? Five million dollars?"

This time?

Those two words immediately caught my attention. From the way he said it, this clearly wasn't the first time we'd had this kind of argument.

My expression turned cold, and I slapped the card out of his hand. "I don't want your filthy money. You're not welcome here, so get lost and stop ruining our girls' night."

I turned away and ordered another cocktail. I didn't bother looking back at Martin. A moment later, the door slammed behind him.

As soon as he was gone, my friends crowded around me.

"Are you seriously the Willow we know? Since when do you stand up to Martin like that?"

"Seriously. You should've seen his face. Everyone in Amethyst City knows Martin Gentry never loses his cool, and you had him absolutely furious!"

I just smiled and picked up my drink. "What's the big deal? Come on, drink up!"

It wasn't until the next afternoon that I finally headed home. On the way, I glanced down at the marriage certificate in my hand and gave a bitter laugh.

That morning, my lawyer had rushed over with some unexpected news. The court had rejected my divorce filing.

At first, I thought there had to be something wrong with the paperwork. Then he told me the real reason.

Martin and I had never been legally married. Our marriage certificate was fake.

I couldn't remember how he'd fooled me back then or why he'd gone to so much trouble, but none of that mattered anymore.

I didn't want to be with him anyway. If anything, this saved me the trouble of getting divorced.

I was going home to pack, but not my things.

His.

My friends had reminded me the night before that when Martin and I first got together, I'd been so happy and so sure we'd be together forever that a prenup had never even crossed my mind.

I'd been expecting the asset split to be a nightmare, but Martin had been even more ruthless than I thought. He'd never even made our marriage legal, which meant the house was still mine.

He'd probably be spending the day with Evelyn, so I figured I might as well clear out all his things while he was gone. That way, I wouldn't have to deal with him coming back later and arguing over his stuff.

But the moment I opened the door, I stopped short.

Martin was slumped on the couch, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept all night.

I was already bracing myself for another argument when he rubbed his temples.

"You're back. My head's killing me. Make me that herbal remedy you used to make."

That was when I noticed the empty liquor bottles scattered under the coffee table. I stared at them in surprise.

Hadn't Joan told me just last night that Martin never drank and could barely stand the smell of alcohol? So why had he suddenly drunk so much?

And I had no idea what herbal remedy he was talking about.