Lahat ng Kabanata ng Till Betrayal Do Us Part: Ex-Husband, Ex-Heartbreak: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

I tilt my head toward the mirror, squinting to see if the makeup covers the red mark. The foundation smooths over the skin fine enough, but somehow, I can still feel it…a prickling reminder right there on my cheekbone where his signet ring caught the flesh. I dab another layer, then another, the brush pressing harder until my jaw clenches with the pain. He didn't even flinch when he hit me. Just watched the blood bloom with that cold fascination in his eyes. I shake the thought away, pulling back to check my work. The mirror reflects something close enough to perfect, so I force a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. Five years of practice makes the deception almost believable. I pick up my phone and tap into it with trembling fingers. This—decorations, outfit, everything—has to mean something. Tonight's the night I'll make him see me again. As the camera goes live, I tilt my face just right, adding a little shimmer of joy to my eyes that I've rehearsed a hundred times in private. "

Tears blurred my vision as I hugged myself, leaning into the cold leather seat, barely holding it together. Each sob ripped through me like a knife, leaving a raw emptiness in its wake, as if I'd drained some vital part of myself I'd never get back. When had I become this woman? This broken, trembling thing that couldn't even remember what it felt like to stand tall? A tissue appeared over the seat. I looked up, startled, meeting the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror. They were oddly warm. I took the tissue with a shaking hand, dabbing at the mess on my cheeks, knowing there was no way a thin piece of paper could fix what Marco had broken in me. "Hope you don't mind," the driver said. "My daughter cries like that sometimes. Says it helps to have something to hold onto." He adjusted his rearview mirror, and our eyes met for a heartbeat. Something about him looked familiar, as if I'd seen him before, a face from some forgotten moment, but my mind was too foggy with pain and fear t

The rain lashed against my face like tiny needles, soaking through my thin hospital gown as I stumbled out the emergency exit. My hair clung to my skin in dark ropes, mascara running down my cheeks in black rivulets that mingled with tears and rainwater until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Each step sent pain shooting through my bare feet—I hadn't even bothered to put on proper shoes, just those flimsy hospital slippers that disintegrated in the downpour. I didn't know where I was going—I just knew I needed to keep moving. My steps faltered when another wave of nausea crashed over me, bile rising in my throat as I doubled over, heaving against the side of a building. Kicked out. Arrested. Pregnant. I laughed. My trembling hand pressed instinctively against my flat stomach, feeling nothing but the sharp edges of my hipbones. "Pregnant," I whispered. It was absurd, almost comical in its cruelty. Now, when I had nothing. When I was nothing. A crack of thunder s

Alejandro’s chuckle was low and unrelenting, the kind that made your skin prickle because it wasn’t just a laugh—it was a challenge. “You’re so dirty-minded,” he said, the words vibrating through the air like a ripple of static I groaned and peeked through one eye, catching a glimpse of his black shorts. My breath hitched before relief washed over me. Oh, thank God. “Relax, princess,” he said, his voice dangerously close to my ear, making the hairs on my neck stand on end. “It’s just skin. Not like you’ve never seen a man before.” “Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped, my eyes squeezed shut again. “And stop calling me that.” He shifted closer. I felt it, the heat of him radiating through the air between us, and my breath hitched again before I could stop it “Fine,” he drawled, his tone dripping with a smirk I didn’t need to see to know was there. “Would you rather I say cinderella? Or should I just stick with my guest who doesn’t know how to follow simple rules? I hated the w

Two Week Later I traced the edge of the glass with my finger. Dr. Patel’s face haunting my mind up till date. Her somber expression and words replaying in my head like a bad dream. “Estella, I’m sorry. You were incredibly lucky to survive, but the baby…” She trailed off, her words hanging like a blade over my head. “You’ve suffered a miscarriage.” I stared at her, unblinking. The words bounced off me like they belonged to someone else. The baby. My baby. Gone “You also sustained a mild concussion, a few fractured ribs, and bruising. Physically, you’ll recover in time.” Her voice softened. Physically. As if that was the part that mattered. She hesitated, her voice lowering. “The driver…he didn’t survive.” James. He is dead because of me. His face flashed in my mind. Gone. Just like the child I hadn’t even gotten the chance to meet. I didn’t cry. Couldn’t. I simply nodded, staring past Dr. Patel as she listed instructions for my recovery I pressed my forehead agains