I spun around almost on instinct and kicked Penelope squarely under the chin.
She slammed into the wall, the dagger she had hidden for a sneak attack flying out of her hand.
"Ahh—!" She clutched her stomach, blood seeping again from a body not yet healed.
"Attacking me? You're courting death!" I snarled and raised my hand high, ready to strike again.
But the slap that followed wasn't hers—it was mine.
The sting exploded across my face.
Derek loomed above me, his eyes filled with a cold fury I had never seen before.
My fingertips brushed the corner of my lips and came away smeared with blood.
"Don't be afraid, it's alright. I'm here..."
He pulled Penelope into his arms, letting her tears soak through his expensive shirt.
The tenderness, the urgency in his gaze—I had only seen it once before.
The day I lost our child.
That sunset was stained in blood. He had clutched my hand to his chest, his own tears threatening to fall as he forced a smile, stroking my face over and over, repeating the words he once said countless times, "Don't be afraid. It's alright. I'm here..."
But now, when his eyes turned on me, there was only ice.
"If it's divorce you want—then we'll divorce."