Chapter 1
Edward Shaw had gone to Melissa Grant's flower shop again.
On our wedding anniversary, his little visit had sent me to the hospital with a pollen allergy.
He stood beside my bed, flustered and rambling, "I swear, I was just passing by."
I didn't say a word.
I simply told him to handle my discharge papers.
That night, I handed him the divorce papers. "We should call it quits."
*****
"Lauren, someone made a scene at the shop yesterday. Eddie only stepped in to help me. I didn't think he'd get pollen on himself and end up making you allergic.
"It was all my fault. Please don't blame him. If anyone should take the blame, it's me." Melissa stood by the hospital bed, biting her lip, looking like she was about to cry. Her teary eyes stayed fixed on me.
But I just stared back, stone-faced.
Yesterday was my wedding anniversary with Edward.
He had gone out of his way to cook a fancy dinner and even bought me a diamond necklace.
But not long after he put it on me, my neck started itching, and I could barely catch my breath.
After I was admitted to the hospital, the doctor said I'd had a pollen allergy.
I caught a flicker of guilt and confusion on Edward's face.
That was when it hit me. He'd gone to Melissa's flower shop again.
No wonder he'd changed clothes when he came home, smelling freshly showered, even down to a different pair of shoes.
Although he was careful, he still slipped up with the necklace.
"Melissa?" Edward's shocked voice snapped me back to reality.
He yanked Melissa away from my bedside and stepped in front of me, shielding me. His voice was cold as ice. "What are you doing here? Leave. Now."
Melissa flinched, stung by Edward's icy tone. Her eyes reddened instantly as she sniffled, pitiful and shaken. "I—I just wanted to check on Lauren. If you hadn't come to help me yesterday, she wouldn't have—"
"Shut up!" Edward snapped.
His roar only made her look even more wronged. The tears she'd been holding back burst out like a broken dam, completely out of control.
But there wasn't a shred of pity in Edward's voice.
"Get out. Now," he barked.
Melissa wiped her face and ran out of the room.
Edward stared at the doorway for a long moment before he finally seemed to remember I was still here. He turned around and knelt down beside my bed.
He grabbed my hand, rambling in panic. "I went to pick up the necklace yesterday. When I passed by her shop, I saw someone wrecking the place. I only stepped inside to help.
"I really was just passing by. I swear."
He held my hand, his whole face tight with nerves.
His burning gaze landed on me, but it couldn't thaw the cold, numb heaviness in my chest.
I helped him up and said flatly, "Go handle my discharge. I want to go home."
Edward let out a sigh of relief. His face lit up. "Okay, I'll go right now."
When we got home, Edward busied himself in the kitchen getting dinner ready.
During the meal, he kept piling food onto my plate and talking my ear off, doing his best to keep things from getting awkward between us.
By the time we'd cleared every last dish from the table, I took out two copies of the divorce papers and handed them to him. "Edward, I'm divorcing you."
He made up some excuse about needing to take a call and stumbled back into the study.
I stared at the empty plate where the roast chicken had been, and my mind suddenly wandered back to the past.
My father had been a drunk, and when he got wasted, he liked to swing his fists.
The summer after my exams, my mother finally had enough and ran away.
After that, I was the one he took it out on.
One night, he got blackout drunk and really let loose on me.
I was so scared he'd actually kill me, so I ran for my life.
But I had nowhere to go, so I crouched on the side of the road, crying in silence.
That was when I ran into Edward, who was in my class.
He took me to his place, cleaned my wounds, and made me a plate of roast chicken.
I'd asked him if he learned to cook from his parents, since he made it so well.
He told me his mother had passed away early, and his father had died in an accident at a construction site not long before. He'd been living alone ever since, relying on a small compensation payout and teaching himself to cook just to get by.
So he understood where I came from. He kept offering to let me stay at his place, but I turned him down every single time.
His life was already hard enough.
I didn't want to be another burden.
But after I finished high school, my father tried to snatch the tuition money I had scraped together from part-time jobs and blow it all on alcohol. He totally lost it, beating and kicking me like a maniac.
It was Edward who pulled me out of it. He grabbed my hand, dragged me to the train station in the middle of the night, and took me far away from that house.
We went to college together and worked part-time to make ends meet.
After graduation, we built a business from scratch, living in a 100-square-foot studio, squeezed onto a narrow bed that creaked every time one of us turned over.
In summer, to save on electricity, we relied on a shaky old fan.
In the southern winter with no heating, we held each other tight at night just to stay warm.
Our company went from a rundown factory lot on the outskirts to renting an office in the most expensive building downtown.
And our relationship grew right along with it—from classmates, to two people leaning on each other to survive, to a couple, and eventually to husband and wife.
I really thought we'd spend the rest of our lives walking side by side like that—through thick and thin.
Until Melissa joined the company.
At first, Edward couldn't stand her.
He complained she couldn't handle contracts, didn't know how to use the printer, and couldn't even make coffee for clients properly. She drove him up the wall.
That was why I was so stunned when I rushed out in the middle of the night to pick him up and saw him gently comforting Melissa, who was crying her eyes out.