Chapter 1

When Julian unhooked my oxygen tube with his own hands, his eyes held a sickening look of saintly mercy.

"Mia can't hold out much longer," he said quietly. "Her pulmonary edema is worse than yours. You're a professional mountain rescuer, Nora. You know how triage works."

I lay inside the flimsy tent at fifteen thousand feet, unable to make a sound.

All I could do was watch as he pulled the frail, shivering woman into his arms and strode out into the roaring blizzard—taking the camp's very last reserve of oxygen with him.

That day was our seven-year wedding anniversary.

It was also Day 102 since I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.

As the howling wind shook the canvas walls, I closed my eyes and let out a dry, self-mocking breath.

Seven years of braving life and death together meant nothing. Compared to a single cough from Mia Campbell, my life weighed less than a snowflake.

Two hours later, the main rescue team arrived and dragged me back from the brink of death.

By the time Julian returned, Mia was already out of danger.

He pushed his way into the medical tent, trailing a blast of freezing wind. When he saw me propped up in bed with an oxygen mask over my face, his first reaction wasn't relief.

It was a deep, irritated scowl.

"Mia's stable," he said, his voice flat. "So drop the cold face. As the chief technical consultant for this team, you should know better than anyone that her survival probability was far lower than yours."

I stared at him.

This was the man I had loved for seven years.

And right now, he was using that same clinical, detached, razor-sharp tone to justify abandoning his wife on a freezing peak.

I reached up, pulled the mask down, and spoke. My vocal cords felt like sandpaper scraping against stone.

"Julian... what if I told you I was dying back there, too?"

He paused for half a second. Then, a flicker of impatience crossed his face.

"Your lung capacity and endurance have always been the highest on the crew. Mia is just an administrative assistant. She can't compete with your physique. Stop making sick jokes, Nora. It's wildly unprofessional."

There it was.

The price of loving him.

Because I was strong, because I was capable, because I was professional, I was always the one expected to be sacrificed.

"Fine," I whispered, glancing down at my fingernails, which were still a bruised, oxygen-starved purple. "Then I guess I really am unprofessional. Effective immediately, I'm resigning from the Hayes Alpine Rescue Initiative."

Julian let out a cold scoff.

"That's the third time you've pulled that threat this year. Nora, playing hard to get gets pathetic real fast."

He turned on his heel and walked out.

He never saw the blood-soaked tissue I shoved beneath my blanket as another violent, chest-tearing cough racked my body.

The first thing I did after descending the mountain was return to our home.

I began boxing up every trace of myself.

Julian loved collecting rare mineral specimens; every single piece in his display case was something I had dragged out of radioactive, unmapped wilderness areas for him.

I packed them all into shipping crates and addressed them to Mia Campbell at the company office.

Since he thought Mia needed so much protection, she could have these blood-stained trophies too.

At ten that night, Julian walked through the front door. He carried an elegant designer gift bag. When he looked at me, his voice held a rare, placating softness.

"I was out of line this afternoon," he said, holding the bag out. "Mia picked this necklace for you. She wanted to thank you for saving her back on the peak, and consider it a makeup gift for our anniversary."

I took the box.

Without opening it, I tossed it straight into the trash can beside the entryway.

Julian's face darkened instantly. "Nora, don't push it."

"I don't need a necklace," I said.

I picked up the manila folder from the counter and held it out.

"Julian, let's call it even. Sign the divorce papers. I don't want a single share of Hayes Rescue. I only want this house."

He didn't even look at the documents. He threw them onto the coffee table with a contemptuous snort.

"Divorce again? Nora, are you seriously going to make a scene in front of everyone over a minor misunderstanding with Mia? Next week is Hayes Corporation's tenth-anniversary gala. Mia is attending as our official brand ambassador. As my wife, don't be late."

He loosened his tie and headed toward the master bath. Halfway there, he stopped and sniffed the air.

"What is that smell? Why does it smell so bitter?"

I quietly replaced the lid on my ceramic pot. "Nothing. Just brewing some bitter herbal tea for inflammation."

It was a mixture of targeted cancer blockers and concentrated bitter extracts, so foul-smelling it made your stomach churn.

He had never set foot in my kitchen.

Just as he had never set foot in my heart.