Chapter 2

“Hey Evelyn, you can’t blame us on Gavin running away this time. Since you haven’t touched him in like three months, here’s a photo to feast your eyes on.”

“When he buys us things, he just has the sales reps ship them straight to our home. A woman being sensible is useless—it’s all about youth you see.”

In my past life, I would have broken down, rushed to the villa Gavin bought them to grab them by the hair and brawl.

Then Gavin’s bodyguards would throw me out, handing the paparazzi snaps of my bruised and swollen face.

Now, I simply replied unperturbed:

“Next time you make a mess and need me to wipe your asses, just call me. That way Gavin won’t have to waste time making it up to me and can spend a few more days with you.”

After sending the text, I immediately resold every single luxury item on hand.

The second the money landed, I transferred it straight into Leo’s medical account.

I remembered how in my past life, driven to utter desperation, I had tried to sell my wedding ring to buy painkillers for him, only to discover the diamond on it had long been swapped for glass by the twins.

After an incident like this, Gavin wouldn’t come home for at least half a month.

It gave me plenty of time to stay with Leo.

At the hospital, Leo clutched my pinky finger, tilting his pale little face up to comfort me.

“Mommy, don’t be sad. Daddy will come home.”

His voice was tiny, yet he tried so hard to give me comfort.

“Really. My nanny, my teacher at school, and the other kids’ mommies all said so.”

I froze, a tight lump wedged in my throat.

I didn’t care about Gavin spending money on his side chicks or walking all over my pride.

But he exposed our son to other people’s pity and gossip at such a young age.

Gavin hadn’t always been like this.

He risked being disowned by his family to get down on one knee and propose to me.

I rubbed the wedding band on my finger, recalling the look on his face—now usually painted with cynical arrogance—showing genuine affection and nervousness for the first time.

Spoiled since birth, used to getting whatever he wanted, he had made a promise to me, a penniless orphan:

“Evelyn, I bought this ring with my own money, none of my family’s.

“I’m set on you. Even if I get kicked out the door, I have what it takes to build everything back up. You might have to suffer through some hard times with me at first... Will you give us a chance?”

Having grown up in poverty, I never dreamed someone would throw away his silver spoon just to be with me.

I agreed through tears then and there.

Our marriage started with a certificate and a two-hundred-square-foot rented room.

At first, his family thought he was just throwing a tantrum, believing he would turn back once he couldn’t stand the hardship.

Yet as time went on, Gavin took on more and more projects, and my belly grew larger and larger.

Unable to sit idle any longer, Gavin’s mother came in person to bring us back to the Fletcher estate.

Still, she never gave up on breaking us apart.

Unable to sway him otherwise, she came up with the idea of mistresses.

In the beginning, Gavin was unwavering—women stripped naked and put into his bed were bundled up and thrown out.

Over time, the rich heirs in his circle started calling him henpecked.

So started the brainwashing. “Which one of us part from you doesn’t have fun with other women? She can keep her title as Mrs. Fletcher, and you get to sleep with any chick you want. That should be enough for her to be grateful.”

Bit by bit, Gavin became convinced that fooling around didn’t count as cheating.

After I gave birth to Leo, he used the excuse of giving me time to rest to not come home for months on end.

I thought that would be temporary, and that once Leo grew older and learned to speak, it would awaken his lost sense of responsibility.

Little did I know that to Gavin, I had already devolved into nothing more than a tool to maintain his reputation as a respectable family man.

Looking back now, it was laughable. After returning to his family, his wedding was held with Stella, and his honeymoon was spent with Luna.

As for our marriage certificate, divorce applications were submitted every few weeks just to coax the twins.

Yet I was still Mrs. Fletcher, in name.

When Stella insisted on outbidding everyone at an auction for an heirloom piece belonging to the powerful Mrs. Ferguson’s family, I had to pack up all the jewelry Gavin had given me and delivered it to the woman myself, asking for her forgiveness.

When Luna threw a fit and slapped Mrs. Sinclair, who had called her out on a shopping spree, I swallowed my pride, carried luxury gifts to the hospital to visit her, and even offered to let her hit me back to blow off steam, all so Leo could have his father’s company.

Yet my compliance didn’t bring his father back. Instead, it built a habit among the high-society circle: whenever anyone took heat from the twins, they tallied the bill onto me.

That was why in my past life, when Gavin reappeared after disappearing for three months, demanding I go into a man-made lake in fourteen degrees weather to find the necklace Stella threw away, I instantly snapped.

The price I paid was watching my son die in agony in my arms.

Remembering that, I wrapped my arms around my boy and kissed his little face again and again.

“Baby, Mommy isn’t sad even if Daddy doesn’t come home. All I need is you to be okay.”

Before I could finish my words, Gavin’s call came through again.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at home right now? Where the hell are you?”