Chapter 3

I really thought we'd be in love forever.

Honestly, the cracks were showing from the very beginning.

The Hawthornes showed up in my hometown with a fleet of more than a dozen cars, the line stretching out forever.

My parents, faces dark and trembling, thought someone had come to collect a debt. But when they realized it was a marriage proposal, they were over the moon.

My dad pulled out his stash of treasured cigarettes and offered one to Ryan, while my mom brought out the coffee beans she'd been saving for a special occasion.

Ryan looked a little awkward when he saw it.

But Ryan played it cool and switched topics like nothing happened. Sitting right there, I noticed him briefly furrow his brow.

He never touched my dad's cigarette, not even once.

And not a single servant he brought touched those dozen cups of coffee my mom set out.

Back then, I just thought some things were just different, no need to force it.

But I never realized that, looking back, Ryan and I were always running on separate tracks. Our lives never really met.

As the years went by, the passion fizzled out, and our differences started to drive a wedge between us.

When the first other woman appeared, it felt like my whole world collapsed.

She wasn't even a real mistress—just a girl Ryan got paired up with when he was out partying with his rich friends. None of them was married, and each had a drinking companion for the night.

Ryan was sitting alone. Seeing him by himself, his friend just pushed a girl over to keep him company.

Ryan was about to refuse, but when he caught a glimpse of her face, he hesitated.

They were both tipsy, and without saying a word, headed straight for the bathroom. After some muffled noises behind the door, Ryan grabbed a handful of tissues for her to clean up, then slipped a wad of cash—30 grand—into her pocket.

Back at home, I was stewing because Ryan was late again. Then someone sent me a message with all the details, so I rushed over to the bar, ready to raise hell.

I caught Ryan just as he was walking out of the bathroom.

That time, we had a massive blowout.

I raked my nails across his face right in front of his buddies, and a reporter caught the whole scene on camera. It made the entertainment headlines.

Ryan shelled out a ton of cash to hush up the tabloids, then disappeared for a whole month.

But eventually, he softened up and came back to apologize to me.

It was probably the first time he'd ever had to swallow his pride and say sorry in his own house. Ryan looked awkward as hell, trying to comfort me while I just broke down, crying again and again.

The next day, his mother, Olivia, who never liked me to begin with, just shot me a cold look and told me to stop making a scene.

I didn't get what she meant back then, not until the second, third, and all the way up to the thirteenth mistress showed up.

Every single time, I'd cry and raise hell.

I found out about the thirteenth one the day before my birthday, so I nearly broke down.

Number fourteen? That was Sophie.

But this time, I didn't shed a single tear.

I actually brought her back to the estate.

Ryan had been away on business, but once he heard the commotion, he rushed home without a second thought.

By the time Ryan got home, it was already late.