Chapter 2

Three days ago, Nick had an episode. He kicked me in the stomach.

I was four months pregnant. The baby didn't make it.

Because of that one blow, my uterus was damaged. The doctor said I might never be able to conceive again.

That day, Nick knelt at my hospital bed for a long time, crying. He swore he'd control himself from now on, swore he'd never hurt me again.

But over the past three years, I'd heard that promise too many times. It stirred nothing in me anymore.

I thought about it for three days before finally deciding to persuade him to seek special treatment abroad.

And now, today, I ended up hearing the biggest lie of all.

"Honey? Why aren't you saying anything? Can't hear me?"

I wiped the wetness from my cheeks and replied as if nothing had happened. "I hear you. The ward felt stuffy. I just stepped out for a bit."

Nick let out a sigh of relief. His voice softened, coaxing, like he was talking to a child. "My fault. Work's been too hectic—I've been neglecting you. Linda, if the room's too stuffy, how about I get you discharged? Didn't you always say you wanted to travel? Let me take you."

His gentle tone pierced straight through me. My chest ached with every breath.

Nick and I were childhood sweethearts. He always protected me when we were kids. Whenever the adults teased him about finding a future wife, he'd lift his little face and declare without hesitation that I was the one.

We dated. We married. Everything went smoothly.

Our parents gave their blessings. Our friends looked on with envy.

But these past three years, he had taken back every ounce of love he ever gave me, leaving nothing but hatred and lies.

I took a slow breath, about to respond, when I heard the sudden edge of tension in his voice from the other end.

"Honey, something came up at the office. You go ahead and get discharged first. We'll talk when I get home."

He hung up in a rush.

I lowered my hand and stared at the park, at the children running and laughing in the sun. After a long moment, I made a call.

"Lucas, I want a divorce."

My brother, Lucas Bergman, went quiet for a few seconds. He didn't try to talk me out of it. He just said, "If you need help, just say the word. Don't carry it all on your own."

I let out a soft "Mm," and a small warmth flickered in my chest.

The moment we hung up, Lucas sent me a lawyer.

I got in touch, explained my situation, and asked him to draft a divorce agreement. Then I headed to the hospital to start the discharge process.

But what I didn't expect… was to see someone who'd been "dead" for three years—Casey.

She was wearing a hospital gown, her face pale, her body weak and boneless as she leaned into Nick's arms.

She whispered something. Nick's face darkened. His eyes went cold.

My heart began to race wildly, like something had reached up from the depths and grabbed hold of my ankle, dragging me down.

That expression on Nick's face—it was the same one he wore when he lost control. The next second, his fists could come flying.

My heart leapt to my throat as I watched him slowly reach toward Casey.

But then, that hand gently wiped away the tear at the corner of her eye.

I exhaled, my body going slack as I leaned against the wall for support. A bitter laugh slipped from my lips.

Of course. It was Casey—the woman he had longed for, mourned, and obsessed over for three years. And I'd actually thought… I'd actually thought he might hurt her like he hurt me.

How stupid could I be?

I went home in a daze. The wedding photo on the wall was cracked and splintered into pieces. My chest tightened like something sharp had been driven into it.

I had picked that photo out of thousands. Nick had personally hung it there himself.

But as his episodes worsened, the frame had been replaced over and over.

This time, no one bothered to change it.

That night, I heard the door open at the entryway.

When Nick walked in, I was staring at the divorce agreement the lawyer had sent me.

Unlike all the other times, he didn't ignore me. For the first time in what felt like forever, he walked straight toward me.

I closed the browser calmly, as if it were nothing. The next second, I was pulled into a warm embrace.

His chin rested on my shoulder, lips curved into a faint smile.

"What were you looking at? You were so focused you didn't even notice I was home."

"Nothing," I said. "Just browsing."