Chapter 2

Just then, the hospital room door swung open, and Matthew walked in.

When he saw I was awake, he strode quickly to my bedside.

“You’re finally awake! The doctor said you almost…”

His face looked pale, and his eyes bloodshot.

“Matthew…” My voice was hoarse.

“What am I to you?”

“What?” He frowned.

“You’re my wife. That’s a ridiculous question.”

“Your wife… in the legal sense?”

His expression changed instantly.

I showed him the photo.

“When I applied for a new passport, they asked for proof of marriage. That’s when I discovered I’d been deceived for five years.

“Sophie is your wife. And I… am nothing.”

“Ava, listen to me, I can explain—” he began.

“Explain what?” I cut him off, each word slicing like a blade.

“Explain why you staged a wedding to trick me? Explain why Sophie moved into our home? Or explain why I saw her coming out of our bedroom last night?”

He fell silent.

Just then, the door opened again and Sophie walked in with a cup of coffee.

“You’re awake. You scared me half to death!”

She was wearing my cashmere coat, the one I’d bought yesterday for three thousand dollars.

“Congratulations, Sophie,” I said bitterly.

“Congratulations for what?” She blinked her wide, innocent eyes.

“Congratulations on being the real Mrs. Spark. While I was nothing but a mistress kept in the dark.”

A smug look crossed her face before she masked it with feigned surprise. “Oh, Ava, what are you talking about? You’re the one Matthew loves.”

“Is that so?” I asked as I turned to Matthew.

“Then tell her, Matthew—who is your legal wife?”

His face turned ashen, and he said nothing.

Sophie’s eyes instantly filled with tears.

“Oh, forget it, Matthew… I know I shouldn’t have come back. I’ll leave,” she sobbed dramatically.

“Don’t go!”

Matthew grabbed her. “It’s my house. I decide who stays.”

He turned to me, his gaze cold.

“Stop this nonsense. I’ll handle the paperwork, but Sophie is Ella’s mother. She needs a place to live.”

“Ella’s mother?” I felt a sharp stab in my heart.

“So you admit that Ella is your daughter?”

He turned his head away.

“That was before you married me.”

Before I married him?

Then the memory hit me.

Five years ago, on April 14th, we had our wedding.

Ella’s birthday was April 15th.

The day after our wedding, he had vanished—because he was at the hospital with another woman, watching her give birth.

And I, the fool, had been waiting in our new home for him to return.

I pulled the IV from my hand and forced myself out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Matthew frowned.

I didn’t answer.

My legs trembled, but I still walked toward the door, one step at a time.

“Let her go, Matthew. She needs to calm down,” Sophie said quietly.

As the elevator doors closed, I caught a final glimpse of Matthew gently tucking a strand of Sophie’s hair behind her ear—exactly as he had done for me many years ago.

Leaning against the elevator wall, I took out my phone and dialed a number I had long buried in my memory.

“Hello?” David Smith’s voice came through.

“It’s me, Ava.”

There was a brief silence. “You finally remembered me?”

“David,” I closed my eyes. “You once said our engagement would always stand. Does that still count?”

“It counts. It will always count,” He replied immediately.

“Three days from now. 9 am. City Hall.”

“I’ll be there.”

I hung up and opened my eyes.

Three days. That was all I needed to bury this ridiculous past with my own hands.

On my phone, I still had a countdown app I’d downloaded five years ago to mark my so-called wedding anniversary.

I reset it to seventy-two hours.

That was my deadline. In seventy-two hours, I would say goodbye to this false life—forever.