Chapter 4

Dark circles bruised the skin beneath Alexander's eyes.

It looked like he hadn't slept a wink.

This kind of obsessive, doting care made me feel like I was back in the days when I carried Leo in my belly.

Except back then, he had an agenda.

Now, I had nothing left to my name. What was there left to punish me for?

I couldn't wrap my head around it, so I stopped caring.

All I wanted was to walk away and leave him, Cynthia, and their kid to play their happy little family.

My icy silence made his brow pull into a tight, irritated knot.

"What kind of tantrum is this?"

"You attacked Cynthia. I only rushed her to the hospital so I could clean up your mess, didn't I?"

Clean up my mess.

By leaving a crippled woman bleeding out on the side of a mountain.

My lips curved into a bitter smirk, but my throat was burning dry.

"Mr. Wright, your wife just woke up from a concussion. She needs complete rest," the nurse changing my dressings spoke up quietly.

Only then did Alexander seem to realize something.

The ugly wound slashed across my forehead was entirely his doing.

Complete strangers could see the damage, yet he chose to play blind.

He inhaled sharply, dropping the interrogation.

His eyes kept darting down to his phone screen.

"I'll go grab you something to eat."

An hour went by.

There was no food in sight.

Instead, Cynthia sent a smug message straight to my SnapChat:

[Even when he's sitting right next to your hospital bed, all he thinks about is me.]

In the attached screenshot, Alexander was venting his frustration:

[All this drama over a scrap of paper? Is she out of her mind? You and Timmy are the only ones who bring me peace.]

Cynthia replied with words of comfort, accompanied by a suggestive photo.

[It's okay, Alex. I'll make you feel all better later tonight~]

Back then, Alexander had always looked at me with that same smoldering gaze.

I felt sick to my stomach. I locked the screen and shut my eyes.

Sure enough, he couldn't sit still for long.

After barking instructions at the doctors and private nurses to look after me, he tucked the edge of the blanket around my shoulders and practically sprinted out the door.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number I knew by heart.

"Lucas... I want to come home."

My brother booked my flight without asking a single question, promising to pick me up in three days.

Curiously enough, during those final days, Alexander suddenly became overwhelmingly attentive.

He brought gourmet meals from top restaurants, never repeating a single dish.

He showered me with luxury gifts.

Designer jewelry fresh off the runway, high-end collectible plushes.

Intricate, beautiful handcrafted trinkets.

I met every single gesture with dead silence, not even sparing them a glance.

On the seventh day, his patience snapped. He slammed the gift box straight into the trash can.

"How long are you going to keep freezing me out?!"

I looked at him flatly.

"I'm not freezing you out."

My calm wall deflected his rage completely, leaving him seething.

He snatched his coat off the rack and sneered down at me.

"Fine. Since you want to play this game, the second you get discharged, you're going straight to Cynthia to get on your knees and apologize. You traumatized her kid that day."

"Even if you refuse to adopt him, you will go to the theater and direct Cynthia's rehearsals."

"After all, nobody knows that ballet piece better than you do."

I pressed a hand over my chest.

It didn't even ache anymore.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind him. I turned around and wheeled myself into my brother's waiting SUV.

Lucas had already cleared out all of Leo's remaining keepsakes.

I sent the signed divorce papers straight to the fax machine in Alexander's executive office.

Then, I sent a video file and an audio recording to his personal phone.

Before we boarded the private jet, Lucas looked at me quietly.

"Any regrets?"

I slid the diamond band off my left ring finger.

"None."

Not now, not ever.

Across town, Alexander's heart seized with an inexplicable, violent pang.

"Alex? What's wrong?"

Cynthia was unbuttoning his suit jacket.

He shoved her hands away, unlocking his phone screen.

With just one look, every drop of blood drained from his face.