Chapter 1

I lay in the hospital bed, the sharp, tearing pain still lingering in my lower abdomen.

I had lost my child.

"It was Kaylee who pushed me." My voice was so hoarse it sounded foreign to my own ears.

Kaylee stood behind Derek, tears instantly welling in her eyes as if she had been grievously wronged.

Derek's gaze as he looked at her was full of tenderness, but when he turned to me, all that remained was impatience and weariness.

"How many times has it been?" he said. "When will you stop trying to smear her? I know her better than anyone."

Once again, he was taking her side.

His unconditional favoritism toward Kaylee was countless.

He let out a sigh, his tone restrained, perhaps because I had just lost the baby. "Stop being unreasonable, okay? If you keep this up, we really have no choice but to divorce."

I turned my head away, tears silently tracing down into my hairline, cold and damp.

Summoning the last of my strength, I heard myself say, "Then let's get divorced."

My casual words seemed to set Derek off.

His eyes flashed with disbelief and anger as he lowered his voice.

He said through gritted teeth, "Holly, what drama are you pulling now?

"You just had to pick this moment to make a scene, huh?"

Derek was convinced I was playing the same old game, trying to corner him by threatening divorce.

I closed my eyes, too drained to even spare him a glance.

In the end, he left with Kaylee, who looked so frail from crying she could barely stand.

He only left behind two orderlies, as if that alone proved his so-called kindness.

Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital and came home. The house was so empty I could hear my own heartbeat echoing through the rooms.

Kaylee was still there, looking all elegant and composed on the living room sofa.

When she saw me walk in, she picked up a report from the coffee table. "Wow, Holly, you got diagnosed with moderate depression?"

My heart skipped a beat.

How did she even dig up my diagnosis report?

Kaylee looked me up and down, like she didn't believe a word of it.

"Well, how could you be so careless?" she said, her tone dripping with fake concern.

She continued, "Isn't moderate depression supposed to make you want to die or something? You don't look like it at all.

"You sure don't look like someone who's ready to die."

I lunged for the diagnosis report, desperate to snatch it back.

But she slipped away easily.

I was still so weak from the miscarriage. There was no way I could keep up with her.

I let out a deep sigh and faced her head-on.

I said, "Kaylee, so you're done pretending now? All that time acting like some pure, innocent saint, and now you're just throwing it in my face?"

Kaylee clearly didn't expect me to be so upfront. She was momentarily at a loss for words.

Just then, Derek appeared at the stairs, looking grim and saying nothing.

Kaylee instantly started acting all cute and helpless. "Derek, see? Holly's being mean to me again."

I couldn't be bothered with her. I turned and headed straight for his study.

"Where do you think you're going?" Derek's voice was sharp, laced with warning.

I ignored him and opened the study door.

He snapped, "I told you, don't just barge into my study whenever you feel like it."

I didn't hesitate as I went straight to his desk and opened the drawer.

I pulled out the divorce agreement he had drawn up ages ago, just sitting there collecting dust.

"You said it yourself," I said, holding up the papers and catching the way his face changed in an instant.

I continued, "The only reason I'm allowed in this study is to sign this. Derek, I'm not breaking your rules."

I signed it without hesitation.

My signature, Holly Garrett, stood out, clear and unyielding.

Derek's eyes narrowed in shock and fury, and he grabbed my wrist so hard it felt like he might crush the bones. "What do you think you're doing?"

My wrist ached sharply.

But I laughed, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

I asked, "What are you so angry about?

"Derek, I signed it. Shouldn't you be thrilled?

"What exactly am I doing wrong now?"

Derek jerked his hand away like he had been scalded, my words hitting him harder than he had expected.

I turned to leave.

Derek trailed after me, waving the diagnosis report in his hand. "So, this depression thing. Is it real, or are you just putting on a show?"

I didn't bother answering.

I snatched those thin sheets from his hand and, right in front of him, slowly and deliberately ripped them to pieces.

The white scraps drifted down like snow, just like the shattered remains of my heart that was cold and lifeless.

So what if it was real?

So what if it was all fake?

Derek never gave a damn anyway.