Chapter 4

When I opened the bedroom door, Grant was on top of Sabrina.

The bedside lamp was on, and their clothes were scattered from the doorway to the bed.

Sabrina saw me first.

She didn't scream. She simply grabbed the sheet and quickly pulled it over both of them.

Grant turned his head and went completely still.

"Lena?"

I gripped the doorknob, all feeling gone from my fingers.

My stomach lurched. I doubled over and retched, but nothing came up.

Grant scrambled out of bed and snatched up his pants. "Why are you here?"

My phone slipped from my hand and struck the floor.

The screen still showed the message he had sent me two hours earlier.

"Come to the lake house. We need to talk."

Grant picked up the phone, and his expression changed instantly. "I didn't send this."

Sabrina let out a soft laugh.

"I did." Leaning against the headboard, she looked completely unfazed. "She wanted to know why you didn't bring her to the party, didn't she? Now she knows."

Grant spun around. "You used my phone to lure her here?"

"How much longer was she supposed to keep lying to herself?" Sabrina slipped into a robe and walked over to him. "You kept telling me you loved me while you were touching me."

My legs shook so violently that I had to brace myself against the wall.

Grant reached for me. I knocked his hand away and slapped him across the face.

The room fell silent except for my ragged breathing.

Grant's head remained turned to the side as a red mark rapidly spread across his cheek. "You hit me?"

"You slept with her!" My voice cracked until I barely recognized it. "Why shouldn't I hit you?"

"It's not what it looks like."

"What part did I misunderstand? Were you two fully dressed, or am I just blind?"

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

Sabrina placed a hand on his waist. "Stop trying to explain. You said you were sick of this marriage."

Grant shoved her away, but he still didn't come to me.

Our wedding photo stood on the nightstand.

In the picture, I was leaning against his shoulder. Beside it sat a half-empty glass of red wine and a torn condom wrapper.

I grabbed the frame and hurled it against the wall.

The glass shattered, and the photograph fell to the floor.

Grant rushed over and seized my shoulders.

"Calm down! Are you planning to destroy the whole house?"

I struggled desperately, my face blurred by tears. "This is our house! That is our bed! When you brought her here, did you think about me for even one second?"

He released me.

Guilt flickered in his eyes, but his anger quickly smothered it.

"I never wanted this marriage in the first place," he said, his voice strained. "Our families forced me to marry you. You've always known that."

It felt as though my chest had been torn open.

All those nights I had spent waiting for him over the past three years, all those dinners that had gone cold, flashed before my eyes.

I raised my hand. My wedding ring was stuck around my swollen knuckle.

I tugged twice, scraping my skin raw before it finally came off.

Grant stared at the ring, his expression changing.

"Lena, what are you doing?"

I threw it onto the wrecked bed. "I'm divorcing you."

Grant reached out to grab me.

I stepped back, turned around, and walked out of the bedroom.