Chapter 3

It was the first time Dylan ever snapped at me like I was just anyone else.

I always thought that was the last bit of affection he still had for me.

But I never expected he'd scold me just like he did the maids, drivers, chefs, and nurses—just for another woman.

Back then, every little thing—getting burned, carsick, cracking a tooth, or falling—was always on me.

But now, the one time I was actually innocent, he still managed to blame me for it.

All it took was Sophia's word against mine.

Did he really love Sophia that much? And what was I to him? Just a nobody?

He didn't even love me, but he still put on this show of deep devotion every single day.

My heart was so numb from the pain, it felt like all the strength had been sucked out of me. I slumped to the side, my head hitting something hard—I didn't even care where.

My blood sugar was tanking—I hadn't had a single thing to eat since I woke up.

This wasn't the first time it happened. Back then, Dylan would always look out for me, pulling out his endless stash of chocolate from his pocket and gently teasing me for forgetting to eat.

But now, all I heard was his scolding—no warmth, just cold, biting criticism.

Dylan snapped, suspicion dripping from his voice, "Sophie's eyes are acting up; she's always extra cautious. There's no way she'd just fall by herself.

"I saw everything from out in the hallway—you pushed her with both hands, and now you're trying to deny it?

"You're nothing but a blind, heartless woman! If anything happens to Sophie, not even your life would be enough to pay for it!"

Even though I was already aware that they had been having an affair behind my back and that Dylan didn't love me anymore, his words still plunged me deeper into the abyss of despair.

The last thread holding me together finally snapped.

I was shaking all over, my breath growing shallow. All I could feel was pain.

Maybe the pain was in my body, maybe in my heart, or maybe both at once.

The next thing I knew, it was morning.

I twitched my fingers, and somewhere in the room, I heard a soft rustling.

It was just the wind stirring the curtains.

I reached for the IV in my left hand and yanked it out, not caring about the pain.

Step by step, I dragged myself over to the window, lifting my face to let the sunlight touch my skin.

I just wanted a tiny bit of light to break through my world of darkness.

Ashley was gone, and even her last gift to me—her corneas so I could finally see—was stolen from me.

My husband cheated on me, and my best friend betrayed me.

How was I supposed to fight this battle all by myself?

Just then, the hospital room door creaked open, but I just stood still, not budging an inch.

"Mrs. Rivers, thank you for standing up for me in front of Mr. Rivers yesterday," the nurse said.

I tilted my head toward her voice. "Are you the nurse from yesterday?"

"Yes," she answered.

An idea popped into my head, and I blurted out, "I was wondering if you could do me a favor. If it works out, I'll give you enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life."

The nurse went quiet, but I didn't rush her.

I knew that kind of money was enough to tempt anyone.

After about a minute, the nurse finally spoke up, "What do you want me to do, Mrs. Rivers? Just so you know, I won't do anything illegal or immoral."

I let out a soft laugh. "It's simple. First, help me find a lawyer to draw up a divorce agreement. Then, book me a plane ticket. And finally, get me a reliable taxi driver."

Less than ten minutes after the nurse left, the door swung open again.

I recognized that familiar tread—it was Dylan.

He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, as if all the drama from yesterday was just a bad dream.

"Honey, why are you standing here in the draft? You'll catch a cold," he said, his voice soft and caring.

I bit down hard on my lip, swallowing the sick feeling in my gut, refusing to answer him.

"Sorry about yesterday—I totally lost it. I brought you breakfast, so don't stay mad at me," Dylan said, his voice gentle and a little pleading.

I really was starving, and the smell of food made my stomach rumble. I made my way over, taking small, shaky steps.

Dylan thought I was about to start throwing a fit again and frowned, but when he saw me heading straight for breakfast, he finally relaxed.

He supported me by the waist, helped me sit down on the couch, and even opened up the food, handing it right to me.

I grabbed the food and started wolfing it down, not caring about anything else.

He chuckled and added, "Oh, by the way, I've got to head out of town for work tomorrow. I won't be back until the day after."