Chapter 2
The truth was, Adrian used to be incredibly kind to me.
He and Edward had been friends since their days at Harvard, and after graduation, he was a constant presence at the Whitmore house.
When I was twelve, my kite got stuck in the sycamore tree. He was the one who climbed the ladder to get it down.
When I fell off a horse for the first time, he was the one who taught me how to get back in the saddle.
Every time he visited, he brought gifts for both Claire and me.
Claire got poetry books, perfumes, and records.
I got gifts, too.
But tucked inside my parcels, there was almost always a small bag of toffee.
Edward was strict about my sugar intake because I had bad teeth as a child.
Adrian would always press a finger to his lips.
"Shh. Don't let your brother see. Just one a day."
Once, at a ball, someone made a snide remark about how I lacked my sister's grace.
Adrian slammed his crystal glass onto the table right then and there.
"If you're so skilled at picking apart others, perhaps you should go home and take a long look in the mirror."
Then, he ruffled my hair.
"Don't listen to them. Live however you want to live."
I only found out later that he and Claire had feelings for each other.
I had thought his kindness to me was just an extension of his love for her.
I had even considered myself lucky to have gained another older brother.
But after the carriages were swapped, he changed completely.
On the second day of our marriage, he moved into the study.
"You have my name. Don't push your luck expecting anything else."
I was so hurt I couldn't speak.
So I mimicked the kitchen maids, brewing a cup of hot chocolate, hoping to sit down and talk to him.
When I reached the door to the study, I heard him giving orders to the butler.
"The north wind is picking up. Send a few more hand warmers to the Ashford family's estate in New York City. Claire gets cold easily."
The butler asked:
"Shall I prepare some for the Madam as well?"
Adrian paused for two full seconds, as if just remembering he had a wife.
"Do whatever you want."
That night, I wrote a letter home.
I wanted to go back.
But the reply I got from Edward contained only a single line.
"You are a married woman now. Act like one, and stop threatening to run home."
I crushed the letter into a ball.
Adrian never shortchanged me financially.
Dresses, jewelry, carriages—I could buy whatever I pleased.
But there was a hollow, gaping hole in my chest.
Right before winter, I ordered the finest silver fox wrap.
The moment the tailor delivered it to the estate, Adrian took it.
"The fur is exquisite. Claire will love this."
I reached out and snatched the wrap back.
"I bought this."
Only then did he realize the item wasn't meant for my sister.
"Then order another one. Freezing for a few extra days won't kill you."
A sudden, blinding anger flared in me.
"Why should I? This is mine."
Adrian looked at me, the disgust in his eyes so sharp it physically stung.
"You look pathetic when you try to compete with her."
The words died in my throat. Since when was protecting what was mine considered "competing"?
Yet that night, in a rare occurrence, he came to my bedroom.
He brought a bag of toffee.
I thought he was finally going to coax me, just like he used to.
Until the bitter, foul stench of medicine hit my nose.
"The doctor examined Claire. Her constitution is weak. She may never carry a child."
Adrian's voice was completely flat.
"I won't have us parading a baby in front of her. It's better if you don't conceive at all."
My mind went completely blank.
"She might have a hard time having children, so why do I have to—"
Before the words left my mouth, two maids seized my arms, pinning me down. The bitter, foul-smelling apothecary's draft was forced down my throat as I choked and thrashed.
Adrian lowered his eyes.
"If you hadn't swapped the carriages, Claire wouldn't have to endure any of this. This is what you owe her."
That night, I writhed in agony, bleeding heavily. The infection that followed brought on a raging fever that lasted for days. When I finally pulled through, the doctor could only break the news delicately: the damage was permanent. It was highly unlikely I would ever bear a child.
Much later, Adrian only had one thing to say about it.
"You brought this upon yourself."
From that day on, I finally, completely stopped fighting.
I stayed locked in my room, day after day.
Later, Adrian secured a high-ranking position in the Treasury Department and grew increasingly busy.
We saw even less of each other.
The only thing that never changed was overhearing the servants.
"Mr. Hale went to the Ashford estate in the city again."
"I heard Mr. Edward was there too. The three of them made plans to go riding in the country tomorrow."
My initial agony eventually dulled into total numbness.
The year Adrian fell gravely ill, I went to see him one last time.
He held my hand, his eyes as gentle as they had been all those years ago.
"You've lost weight."
That single sentence shattered years of my defenses.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he whispered:
"Claire..."
"If there truly is a next life, marry me, won't you?"
Sitting by his deathbed, I suddenly found the whole thing utterly absurd.
Not long after, I died of illness too.
So in this life, I refused to marry anyone who didn't love me.