Chapter 2 Hatred Burns

I smiled bitterly as I said, "I need you to look into a certain someone. Find out who Cece Brook's real parents are."

It was during my phone call to Henry that I found out when Zoe was coming home. It was right smack on my sixth anniversary. Henry said Tim had booked a hotel and was planning to hold a grand welcome for Zoe.

My ears began to ring, and something invisible squeezed my heart into a shriveled raisin. Breathing itself became something taxing on my body.

Tim would cook up something simple every anniversary. I thought he didn't like grand parties. And now he wouldn't even bother making a simple meal for me just because Zoe was coming home.

Henry was cursing Tim out, angry on my behalf.

He kept telling me to get a divorce.

Frustration was beginning to spread and tie me up like a hostage. I answered half-heartedly, "Yes, yes, right away."

Tim had come out before I knew it, and he was standing behind me, saying nothing. When our eyes met, he said calmly, "Calling someone?"

I hung up in a hurry.

I couldn't help but wonder how much he had heard. He took my silence as a cue to get closer. He walked up to me and put his hands on my shoulders gently, then he pulled me into his tight embrace.

"I'm sorry I was so harsh on you earlier. I know you're worried about Cece, but you don't have to. I've called an overseas expert, and they'll be coming over for her treatment. She'll get better soon, I promise."

The Brook family had great power in the world of medicine. I've gone to many hospitals and asked for the help of experts no fewer than a thousand times, and all of them said Cece couldn't be cured.

Tim had a good reason backing his confidence. After all, Cece had never been a mute.

Just then, my back went cold as an epiphany struck me like lightning. Zoe majored in neurological rehabilitation. An electric current coursed through my whole body, but I held the discomfort in and struggled away from his arms.

Then, I met Tim's cool, calm eyes. When my voice came out, it was shaking. "Do I know that expert?" My nails were digging into my palms. The pain was throbbing, but my eyes never left his face.

Tim looked at the ground for a moment, then he met my eyes and put on a smile. His answer came out like he was talking about an old acquaintance. "Zoe Wilson."

We had a tacit agreement spanning six years to never bring that name up, and now he had just broken that agreement. That name crashed onto my head like a meteor hitting the ground.

The world around me went blurry for a moment. I stepped forth and grabbed Tim's arm, clawing half a dozen creases on the fabric. My voice nearly cracked as I demanded, "Are you sure Cece can't talk? Is Zoe the only person who can help her?"

A hint of hesitation flickered in his eyes. It was nearly imperceptible, but I saw it. Tim quickly gave the back of my hand a soothing caress. "I understand where you're coming from, but can you set your prejudice aside for Cece?"

This man lied to me for three whole years just so Cece and her mother could be reunited, and now he called me prejudiced.

I flung his hand away and stared at him, my smile hideous.

I thought he had given up on Zoe when she left him at the altar six years ago. Now, I knew better. This scumbag had duped me into raising another woman's child for three years and told me she couldn't talk, just so he could polish Zoe's resume.

I stepped away from him, staring at the man I thought I knew.

A deep sense of irony slithered around my heart as I recalled how I'd poured six years' worth of love into him, suffered for three years for him, had gone through 18 IVF attempts for him, all for it to end up as one colossal joke at my expense.

Well, then.

Whatever lingering affection that was still smoldering in my heart was snuffed out and frozen with something fiercer, something that burned. Hatred.

"Let's get a divorce."