Three Strikes, and We're Done

Charlotte's POV

The wedding photo smashed to the ground with a loud crash. Glass shards scattered everywhere, coming to a stop at my feet and Jaxson Larkin's.

I calmly picked up the broom and swept up the ruined frame, along with the photo. Then, without a trace of reluctance, I swept it into the trash.

Seeing this, fury ignited in Jaxson's eyes once more. He knew better than anyone how much I had once treasured that wedding photo.

But now, I had discarded it like an old shoe.

Jaxson took the hand of Sasha Fuller beside him and said, "Since you don't care about it anymore, then I'll take Sasha to a photoshoot. From now on, we'll hang our wedding photo here!"

I nodded calmly and replied, "One."

Although Sasha couldn't hide the smugness in her eyes, she still pretended to be flustered. "Jax, is this really okay? I already feel bad enough moving in while pregnant and making Charlotte sleep in the guest room."

Before she even finished speaking, I already booked a shoot with the same studio where we had taken our wedding photos. I then sent the confirmation text to Jaxson's phone.

Jaxson's gaze darkened before he pulled Sasha along and left without another word.

I paid it no mind.

As I walked into the guest room, a notification of successful flight booking popped up on my phone.

I pulled out my suitcase and slowly began packing my things. Some time later, my phone chimed.

Sasha had posted to Instagram and specifically tagged me. It was a series of photos, almost identical to the post I had made on my wedding day.

There was only one difference. At the very end of the carousel, there was a short video of the couple kissing passionately, clinging to each other as though they never wanted to part.

I remained expressionless as I liked the post and left a comment—"Congratulations."

…

In the middle of the night, Jaxson kicked my door open. He walked toward me, reeking of alcohol.

His words were slurred. "Charlotte, what do I have to do for you to forgive me?

"Why weren't you angry when I took wedding photos with Sasha? I waited all day for you! Why didn't you come stop me?

"You were never like this before! You would have been jealous!"

I looked at him calmly and gave no response. Still, my thoughts drifted far away.

I really had been the jealous type. The first time I caught Jaxson cheating, I stormed into the company and slapped Sasha across the face.

Jaxson's revenge was to accuse me of academic fraud. I was expelled from the school and lost my job.

The second time, I caught him entangled with Sasha in our bed.

I was a little calmer than the last time. I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I just sent the photos I had taken to the company group chat.

To stand up for Sasha, Jaxson cut off my mother's specialized medication. And the only way to earn his forgiveness and save Mom was for me, a former professor at a top law school, to strip down and pose for a provocative magazine.

After that, even ordinary law firms rejected my résumé. I lost all sources of income, but Mom's medical bills couldn't go unpaid.

Just because Sasha had casually complained that the company cafeteria wasn't any good, I went from a teacher standing at the podium to her personal cook.

The hands that had once held a pen were soon covered in painful blisters from burns. Day after day, I submerged them in dishwater until the blisters turned pale and broke open. They would ooze pus and blood before scabbing over.

And in exchange, I would get a week of Mom's medicine from Jaxson.

Then, the cycle would start all over again. Eventually, the scars became so thick that I had to tear through layer after layer of scabs before they would bleed—just like my scarred heart.

As Jaxson cupped my face, his words came out between uneven breaths. "Lottie, I had her delete that post.

"Once she gives birth, I'll send her away. Stop being upset, okay?"

My fingers twitched at those words.