Chapter 1

I'd been a divorce lawyer for ten years, and I'd never lost a single case.

One day, a woman client flew all the way from Metropolia to Kingston, offering a sky-high fee.

I started going through the stack of papers she handed me.

And then, staring right back at me was a detailed file, about my own husband.

*****

I instinctively gripped the papers tighter, looked up, and smiled at her. "So, Ms. Carter, what exactly are you hoping to get out of this?"

Madeline set her coffee down, giving me a half-smile. "Marcus walks away with nothing, and the kid stays with me."

I nodded slightly, turned on my recorder, and set it on the table. "I'll ask you a few questions. Please answer honestly."

Hearing this, Madeline gave a soft "Mm."

I pinched my thigh, forcing myself to stay calm. I said indifferently, "First question: when did you and your husband meet?"

Madeline replied, "Seven years ago. My dad got drunk and stabbed my mom to death. Marcus was the judge on the case.

"After my dad got the death penalty, Marcus paid for my college and helped me get a job. One thing led to another, and we got together.

"We got married five years ago, and now our kid's three."

All the dates matched up with what I remembered.

Seven years ago, Marcus was indeed involved in a domestic violence case. He even vented to me about the defendant, saying the guy wasn't fit to be a husband, let alone a father.

After the case ended, he brought up wanting to help out a college student.

I didn't think much of it, and he never mentioned it again.

Five years ago, Marcus was gone for a month on a business trip. He told me he was being sent out of town for some training.

He even felt guilty for missing our anniversary and bought me flowers and jewelry to make it up to me.

It turned out he was actually off honeymooning with another woman.

Three years ago, we became fully long-distance.

The first year, Marcus came back once a month, always loaded down with gifts, and stuck to me like glue.

The second year, he only came back every six months. He'd cook up a spread of my favorite dishes, eat with me, and then leave right after.

The third year, he only came back once a year. He barely stayed at home before leaving in the dead of night.

Suddenly, Madeline called out, "Ms. Sherman," snapping me back to reality.

I cleared my throat, trying to make my voice sound normal. "Second question: why do you want a divorce?"

Madeline blurted out, "Because I don't love him anymore."

"But honestly..." She paused deliberately, then slowly pulled out her phone and slid it across the table to me. "Honestly, he's been really good to me. See for yourself, Ms. Sherman."

I took the phone and scrolled through her social media.

It was packed with posts about their daily life together, and every little milestone as they became parents.

I was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of betrayal.

Marcus and I had been together for fourteen years, and I was always the one snapping photos and posting about our life on social media.

Whenever I asked him to share something on his feed, he'd always say, "You know my job is sensitive. Please understand."

When I watched her endless daily updates, a sarcastic smile tugged at my lips.

I scrolled through post after post, as if punishing myself.

Some dates stung more than others, and a flood of painful memories threatened to drown me.

When Marcus was proposing to her, I was being stalked because of a case I was working on.

I called him over and over. At first, he didn't answer, and then his phone was turned off.

In the end, someone struck me on the back of the head.

When I woke up, Marcus was wracked with guilt and stayed by my side the whole time.

Then I scrolled to their wedding trip. It took them to Frantica, Swisis, and Ukon City.

They were hugging by the sea, kissing at sunset, strolling down the streets.

Meanwhile, Marcus called off our honeymoon, saying, "I'm a government employee. I can't afford to splurge."

When I scrolled to a photo of him holding their baby outside the delivery room, my hand stopped.

The date felt like a thousand needles piercing my heart, each one bringing fresh pain.

While he was lost in the joy of becoming a father for the first time, I was drowning in the grief of losing my first child.

I never told him or his mother, Lily, about it, afraid it would break their hearts.

Madeline tapped the table, stood up with a smile, and took her phone back, her tone tinged with a hint of apology. "Sorry, Ms. Sherman.

"The nanny texted me. The kid's crying for his mom. If you need anything, message me.

"Right, I've already paid for the coffee. Enjoy it."

As I watched her leave, my stomach clenched. I scrambled up and rushed to the bathroom.

With nothing in my stomach, all that came up was sour bile.

I splashed cold water on my face, tears mixing with the droplets as they fell.

It felt like my heart had been torn open, cold wind pouring in—so painful it made me tremble, but not a single sound escaped me.

I drove home, went straight to the bedroom, and dug out our marriage certificate.

I headed straight to city hall. "Can you check if this marriage certificate is real?" I asked.

The staff member shot me a confused look, tapped a few keys on the computer, then looked up. "Ma'am, the certificate is real. You and Mr. Quinn are legally married."