Chapter 2

"Money? Caitlin doesn't need your money anymore," I sneered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

I continued, "She was snatched and abused by some foreign guys during her layover on the way home. She's dead now...

"Just keep your money. When you finally get struck by lightning and die, I'll burn it for you in the afterlife."

By now, Trace's voice wasn't just breaking down; he was absolutely furious.

He snapped, "Phoebe! Are you trying to get yourself killed? What kind of stunt are you pulling now?

"You're so jealous that I bought Lexie a villa that you'd even make up crap about Caitlin being dead? That's freaking ridiculous!

"It doesn't matter how pissed you are. The money's mine, and I'll spend it however I damn well please!"

I was so sick of his crap. I hung up and just leaned back against the wall, completely exhausted.

Lexie was like a piece of crap floating in a water tank. She made everything gross, all the time.

I'd been married to Trace for a whole decade.

And for ten years straight, they just grossed me out.

Every single time things between Trace and me started to get better, Lexie would show up right on cue.

As long as she was around, Caitlin and I were always the ones Trace tossed aside.

I always told myself I was doing it for Caitlin, just to give her a real family, barely holding our marriage together.

But it was really all those years I'd sunk into this mess and all the feelings I'd poured in. I just couldn't stand the thought of letting him go so easily.

I sank to the floor and started slapping myself, like I'd lost my mind.

I hated how pathetic and weak I was, and I hated how obsessed I'd gotten with this relationship.

I hated that I'd cut off every escape, just tossed my whole future to a guy I couldn't even trust.

I ran my fingers gently over Caitlin's photo, swearing to myself that whoever hurt her was going to pay, no matter what.

I went straight to my bestie Karla Malone, a hotshot lawyer, and asked her to help me get the divorce rolling.

When she saw I was finally ready to claw my way out of this mess, she looked so proud of me and set me up with a place to stay right away.

Clutching the divorce agreement, I pushed open the door to Trace's villa.

Before I even stepped into the living room, I heard that familiar, teary voice.

"Trace, it's all my fault. Sorry for being such a bother again. Phoebe must really hate me now!" Lexie whimpered.

Seeing Lexie all anxious and fidgety, Trace couldn't help but feel bad for her.

"Forget about her. She's got no money. If she's broke and worn out, she can just sleep on the street," he scoffed.

Lexie smirked, lips curling with mischief.

"Phoebe's so gorgeous, you know. Even if she keeps to herself, guys are still gonna be all over her," she said, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

Trace's expression instantly soured when he heard that.

"Fine, I'll cut off all of Caitlin's allowance. Let's see how cocky Phoebe can be then!" he snapped.

"If it weren't for you always saying girls should be independent, Caitlin wouldn't be able to take the train on her own now. She's grown up so much, and that's partly thanks to you," Trace said.

Lexie let out a playful, flirty laugh.

"I'm really just looking out for Caitlin. I just hope Phoebe understands how much I care," she said, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

I stood frozen in the doorway, the chill seeping right into my bones.

I'd always thought Trace was just losing it, putting me and Caitlin through hell for no good reason. Turns out it was Lexie pulling the strings all along.

Rage twisted inside me. If I had a knife right now, I honestly wouldn't know who I'd go for first.

That was when they finally saw me standing there in the doorway.

When Trace saw how pale I looked, his eyes flashed with a mix of concern and irritation.

"So you're brave now, huh? Didn't come home all night? Where'd you get the cash for that?" he demanded.

"Weren't you supposed to pick up Caitlin? Where is she?" he asked.

I looked at him, my gaze hollow and vacant.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Caitlin died on her way back home," I said, my voice flat and numb.

I glared at both of them, eyes burning with hate.

"You killed her. This is all on you," I spat, my voice cold and hard.

Trace shot me a mocking look.

"Phoebe, you're thirty-two, not twenty-three. Quit with these childish lies just to get noticed," he sneered.

"Instead of making a fool of yourself like some clown, maybe try working on yourself for once. Your face is getting older, but your brain sure isn't," he added, his voice thick with contempt.

Trace's words cut me like a knife, stabbing straight into my heart.

Caitlin was gone. There was no reason for me to stay anymore.

I put the divorce papers on the table, kept my cool, and went to the bedroom to start packing.

Caitlin, this place wasn't our home anymore.

I would take you somewhere that was just for the two of us.

Suddenly, I heard the crash of something being smashed out in the living room.

Trace's angry, cutting voice rang out behind me.

"What the hell are you up to now?" he snapped.

"If you're gonna threaten me with divorce, at least make sure you've got something to back it up. You're just a broke, washed-up woman with nothing going for you. Who the hell would want damaged goods like you?" he sneered.

He tossed the divorce papers to the floor like they were nothing, just like he treated me, with pure contempt.

"Don't ever try this again," he said, his voice icy and dismissive.