CHAPTER 2

JASMINE’S POV

I tried to stay composed and not show how much I was hurting, but when she called me a worthless whore, I snapped. I could not take the disrespect any longer. I picked up the wine bottle and hurled it in her direction. She managed to dodge it just in time, but not without a shard of glass cutting her cheek. A small sense of satisfaction bloomed within me.

Are you crazy?!” Martin yelled as he wrapped his arms around Kimberly like she was a delicate flower. She clung to him, whimpering—probably more for effect than actual pain.

Crazy? He had the audacity to call me crazy?

“No, let me show you what crazy looks like,” I hissed, picking up a baseball bat resting on the fridge and dragging it slowly across the floor. His eyes widened in fear as I stepped closer.

Good. Let him be scared. Let him feel even a fraction of what I was feeling.

But I wasn’t going to swing it at them. No. That would make me the villain. Instead, I turned and swung the bat at the nearest wedding photo. I could still remember how happy I had felt that day, I used to worship him. I used to think I was the luckiest woman alive.but now, my marriage was a horror story. I wished I could go back in time and undo it all.

God, I was such a fool.

The picture frame crashed to the ground, and I kept smashing it until the glass shattered into tiny pieces. I moved on to the rest of the photos, destroying every last one. My anger rose with each frame I sent tumbling to the floor.

“Do I look crazy now?” I shouted in Martin’s face. “Is this what crazy looks like?” I screamed.

“Jasmine, you need to calm down. You are acting completely out of character,” Martin said, which only triggered a bitter laugh from me.

Out of character? Funny, isn’t it? When I was the perfect wife calm, patient, always wanting the best for us—what did that get me? What did that do for me? I got played. I got cheated on. My entire life’s work was taken from me.

“You made me this way!” I yelled. “You caused this!”

I began destroying everything in my path—the flower vase, the furniture—anything within reach.

Martin grabbed his phone and called security. “My wife… she’s having an episode. She’s not well. She just attacked my pregnant girlfriend!”

I walked up to them, scoffing. “Was this your plan all along?” I sneered. “Making me the bad guy while you two act like saints? Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

“Jasmine, sweetheart,” Kimberly cooed, speaking to me like I was a child. “You know this isn’t you. It’s the medication. You stopped taking it, didn’t you?”

I blinked. “What medication?”

Kimberly’s lips curled into a pitying smile. “Martin told me about your medicine—the one you took for your anxiety. I understand that people raised in traumatic environments with deadbeat parents tend to have emotional meltdowns, but I know you are stronger than this, Jasmine. You are better than that. You are nothing like your pathetic parents.”

I clenched my fist. She knew.

She knew my deepest most painful secret.

“Don’t you dare bring my parents into this,” I growled.

“Why not, darling?” she taunted. “Are you afraid you are exactly like your emotionally unstable father?”

“Don’t you dare—”

“Or what?” she smirked. “Are you going to hit me? You have already proven that you are just as destructive as your father. Why not continue the cycle? Go on…..hit me, just like he used to.”

I knew what she was doing. She was trying to turn me into a monster. But I wasn’t going to give her that. My father had done unspeakable things, and I had been foolish to trust Martin with that information. But I wasn’t foolish enough to let them twist me into something I wasn’t.

Before I could respond, Kimberly suddenly dropped to the ground, clutching her stomach and pointing at me. “Officer, arrest her! She tried to kill me and my baby!”

A cop? When had he—?

“Ma’am, drop the weapon!” The officer commanded.

I instinctively let go of the baseball bat and turned to face them.

“Ma’am, you are under arrest,”

“For what?” I frowned. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Martin held Kimberly close as she faked a sob. “She is a liar! She tried to kill me and my baby because Martin wanted a divorce. She is crazy!”

“Is that true?” the officer asked.

Martin sighed. “It’s true. My wife has been acting erratically. She stopped taking her medication, and now she lashes out over the smallest things. She’s not usually like this, but… mental illness has a way of ruining good people.” He shook his head, looking at me pitifully. “Please take her before she destroys more of my property.”

“My property,” I corrected him. “Everything in this house—I paid for it.”

“Ma’am, you need to calm down,” the officer warned, stepping toward me with handcuffs.

“Back off!” I yelled, taking two steps back. “Why are you arresting me instead of them? They are the ones who committed fraud. I gave this man everything, my time, my love, my money—and he threw me away like garbage!”

Kimberly whimpered, pressing herself against Martin. “She is scaring me,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

I let out a sharp, wild laugh. “Oh, I’m scaring you?” My chest heaved. “You destroyed my life, and I’M the scary one?”

“Enough!” The officer lunged, grabbing my wrists and twisting them behind my back. Cold metal clicked around them. “You are under arrest for assault and destruction of property.”

“No! No, you can’t do this!” I struggled, but the cuffs dug into my skin. “Martin, tell them the truth! Tell them what you did!”

But Martin just shook his head, looking down at me like I was something pathetic. “I’m sorry, Jasmine,” he murmured. “I really hoped you would get better.”

And just like that, everything I had left was taken from me.