“How touching,” she said, her tone dripping with false sympathy. “Five
years of marriage, and he still can’t stand to waste a single glance on
you.”
I didn’t answer.
I simply sat there, scrolling through the listings on my phone.
My calm seemed to infuriate her. She suddenly stood up, laughter
spilling from her lips as she swayed the coffee cup in her hand.
“Did you know?” she said sweetly, “Last night he told me his heartbeat
was even faster than it was after his surgery—because I was in his
arms.”
The cup tilted in my hand—
I dodged, but the scalding coffee still splashed across my clothes.
A few drops landed on my wrist. The pain was sharp, and I gasped,
falling to the floor in a half-cry that sounded almost theatrical.
“Lucas!” I screamed.
Footsteps thundered from the hallway.
He burst in, eyes flaring when he saw my reddened wrist.
“What the hell are you doing now?!”
Before I could speak, his palm came down hard.
The slap rang in my ears, and for a second, the world went white.
He gathered Kendall into his arms and rushed out, leaving me kneeling
among shattered porcelain and spilled coffee.
The heat soaked through my thin nightgown, burning my skin.
But the pain in my chest was worse—