Chapter 1

My husband, Callum Whitaker lost a bet to his new "adopted sister", Erica Carson.

The punishment: stay single for a month.

And so, he tossed a divorce agreement to me.

"Sign it. It's just for one month. Don't make a fuss—have some game spirit."

I said nothing and quietly signed it.

Not long after, he lost another bet. This time, he said, "I have to sleep in the same bed with her. We'll Just talk under the covers. Don't overthink it."

As he spoke, a small box of condoms slipped from his pocket.

He cleared his throat, and muttered something about urgent company matters, rushing straight to a hotel.

Once he was gone, I lowered my head. There was a message on my phone. [I'm leaving the country in a week. Come with me?]

I replied: [Okay.]

*****

The next day, I started packing my bags.

Halfway through, Callum Whittaker walked in—he hadn't come home all night.

There were some suggestive red marks on his neck, and he looked totally wiped out as he yawned. Callum gave me a look. "Heading out somewhere?"

I nodded, feeling a bit guilty.

Callum didn't seem to care. "You really should go outside more. You're always holed up in the house, barely know what's out there. Not like Erica—she can chat with me about anything under the sun."

Erica Carson was the "adopted sister" Callum picked up at a bar six months back.

The two were inseparable, always wrapped up in their ridiculous betting games.

It started off with bets for coffee or dinner, but now they'd wager things like hugs—or even kisses.

I'd cried and made a scene over them, but all I ever got from Callum was that look of pure disgust. "They're just for fun. Why are you making such a big deal out of them?"

After a while, I just stopped talking.

So when Callum started throwing subtle shade my way, hyping Erica up as usual, I didn't say a word—just kept packing.

After a bit, Callum asked, "When are you heading out?"

"In six days," I said.

The next moment, I was suddenly swept off my feet.

Callum scooped me up and tossed me onto the bed, landing me right against his warm chest.

Callum murmured, "Don't move. Just stay here and sleep with me for a bit."

I couldn't break free, forced to breathe in the lingering perfume of another woman clinging to him. My mind instantly conjured up messy scenes I didn't want to imagine—bodies tangled together, reckless and filthy.

As those thoughts kept spiraling in my head, tears started streaming down my face.

Callum frowned, clearly annoyed. He barely even bothered to comfort me—just gave my back two lazy pats.

He muttered, "Wendy, honestly, only I would tolerate you acting like this.

"Without me, you wouldn't even last as well as a stray out there."

He recited those same tired lines for the millionth time, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

I wiped my tears and sneaked away while he slept.

Looking at that face I'd loved for ten years, something inside me finally snapped. I was done with him.

Even if my life ended up worse than a stray's, I would rather be anywhere than by his side.

As the day to leave the country got closer, all those old memories kept popping up in my dreams.

When Callum was eight and saw me for the first time, he stared at me so hard that he tripped and went flying face-first onto the ground.

He wound up sporting a pretty obvious scar right on his forehead.

But instead of being embarrassed, Callum totally showed it off. Right in front of everyone, he announced he was gonna be my one and only knight—and that he'd protect me for life.

Back then, when kids made promises, they really meant it.

When the chubby kid next door stole my candy, Callum waited for him after school, cornered him in a back alley, and punched him hard enough to knock out two of his teeth.

When some girl in class dumped ink on my dress for kicks, Callum drew ninety-nine ridiculously ugly pictures of her and stuck them on every wall in the school—she ended up so freaked out she skipped school for days.

Back then, wherever I went, Callum never strayed more than five yards from my side.

We were joined at the hip, totally into each other.

Everything was fine—until eighth grade.

Then, out of nowhere, my parents died in a plane crash.

I was left an orphan and my uncle took me in.

He transferred me to a new school and sent me thousands of miles away, all the way to the south.

Thrown into a world where everything felt strange, I had to start figuring out how to go to school alone, eat alone, and basically do everything by myself.

Even though my days were packed with things to do, there was always this empty ache inside me.

The day I was diagnosed with depression, my uncle's disappointed and confused stare felt like a weight on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I stood at the base of a thirty-story building, staring up at the rooftop, a strange longing pulling at me.

When I finally looked away, I couldn't believe my eyes—there was Callum, standing right in front of me.

I thought I was seeing things, but he walked up to me, his eyes shining with stars as he looked at me.

Callum said, "Wendy, I've missed you so much I'm seriously losing my mind."

I just lost it, tears streaming down my face as I sobbed, "Please, just take me away from here.

"I can't stand living in this city anymore—my clothes get moldy in days, and the cockroaches are basically invincible!"

Callum spent forever comforting me, and then went straight to my uncle to beg him.

He got down on his knees and vowed, "I'll look after Wendy, stick with her through school, and get into our dream university together. If I break my word, I will die a miserable death."

Just like that, Callum brought me back home.

When we finished university, he got married.

On our wedding day, Callum slipped a ring onto my finger, bawling his eyes out like a kid. He swore, yet again, right in front of everyone, "Wendy, I promise I'll make you happy, always."

*****

When I woke up, the other side of the bed was cold and empty—Callum hadn't been home for five days.

The only way I could keep tabs on him now was by stalking his feed.

His latest post showed him with medical gauze taped to his forehead, looking like he'd just come out of surgery.

The comments below were full of people asking what was up.

Callum replied, "Erica said the old scar was ugly and killing my whole look, so I finally got it taken care of."

I just stared, totally thrown off.

The scar—his so-called knight's badge—was gone now, and with it, the tiny hope he'd ever have my back again.

I tried to convince myself it didn't matter. I was leaving tomorrow anyway—so why bother overthinking it.

But the stabbing pain deep inside just wouldn't let up, no matter how much I tried to push it away.