Chapter 2

I went back to the condo I bought before we got married.

It wasn't large, but it was entirely my own space.

As soon as I walked through the door, I stripped off that ridiculously expensive custom gown and threw it straight into the trash.

I tossed the limited-edition heels that had blistered my feet right in after it.

I headed straight for the bathroom and cranked the shower on.

Hot water cascaded over my head, washing away a night of utter misery and humiliation.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

My left cheek was swollen high, bearing a vivid red handprint.

My eyes were bloodshot, but there were no tears.

There was no grief greater than a dead heart.

This was probably exactly what that felt like.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I found my jewelry box.

I opened it to find the dazzling diamond ring resting quietly inside.

Three years ago, when Jonathan slipped it onto my finger, he promised to love me for the rest of his life.

Looking back on it now, it was nothing but a massive, cruel joke.

I plucked it out and flushed it down the toilet without a second of hesitation.

I watched the whirlpool suck it down until it completely disappeared.

Everything belonging to Mrs. Grant needed to end.

My phone rang in the living room for a long time.

I walked out and glanced at the caller ID. Alex Shaw. Jonathan's executive assistant.

I swiped to answer but remained silent.

Alex's panicked voice, cracking on the other end, came through immediately. "Mrs. Grant! No, Dr. Evans! Where are you?"

My voice was dead calm. "What is it?"

Alex sounded close to tears. "Mr. Grant... Mr. Grant collapsed!"

Not a single ripple of emotion stirred in my chest. "Take him to the hospital."

"He's already there! We're at Central Medical Center, where you used to work. But..."

Alex's voice trembled violently. "The doctors say... they say the shrapnel in Mr. Grant's brain moved!"

For a split second, my breath caught.

The shrapnel.

That was our very first point of intersection.

Three years ago, I was the lead surgeon who pulled him from the brink of death after an explosion.

But there was one microscopic piece of shrapnel lodged in a position too dangerous to touch.

It sat right up against his central nervous system, acting like a ticking time bomb.

I had explicitly warned him to avoid severe emotional distress.

Apparently, he had gotten a little too immersed in his acting tonight.

Alex was openly crying now, practically begging. "Dr. Evans, Dr. Adams says the surgical risk is far too high.

"You might be the only person in the entire world... the only one confident enough to take it out."

Gripping the phone, I fell silent.

Outside my window, the city's neon lights flickered on and off. Just like my extinguished love.

I used to think I was the angel who saved him.

As it turned out, I was just a temporary fix until he could get his true love back.

Now, he didn't need me anymore. And I no longer needed him.

I let out a soft laugh. A laugh laced with absolute relief.