Chapter 4

Sophie cursed angrily through gritted teeth.

"Where's Julian Crest? That bastard! Where is he now?"

I looked at her but couldn't speak.

My throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire.

She quickly poured warm water and dabbed my lips with a cotton swab.

"Don't bring him up." I found my voice, but it was raspy and harsh.

"We're divorced now."

Sophie was stunned.

Then, as it dawned on her, the anger in her eyes melted away, replaced by overwhelming concern.

"He knew and still left you to face surgery alone?" she asked.

I closed my eyes and nodded.

Tears fell from Sophie onto my hand.

They were scalding.

"That bastard! He's a monster!" she shouted.

"Rosalind, why didn't you tell me and suffer alone?"

I didn't answer.

What could I even say?

Should I tell her I loved him so much I shrank, hoping for his compassion?

Or admit I clung to hope that a child could keep us together?

How ridiculous.

I spent half a month in the hospital.

Julian never visited me, not even once during those two weeks.

No calls, no texts.

He disappeared from my life completely.

Those three years of marriage felt like a lonely, foolish dream.

But Harrison Cole, his lawyer, did show up once.

He brought the finalized divorce and property transfer papers.

Julian transferred half his shares and three properties to me.

Then Harrison added, "Mr. Crest said these are your compensation."

Compensation, again.

He always tried to measure everything with money—my dead children, the three years I gave him, all of it.

Right in front of Harrison, I tore the property agreement to shreds.

"Tell him I don't want anything from him.

"I just want him gone from my life forever.

"We're even now."

Harrison left.

Sophie looked at me, lips parted but silent.

"Rosalind, why make it harder for yourself? You deserve this."

I shook my head.

I shook my head. "Sophie, I want nothing to do with him.

"Taking his money would be a permanent reminder of my foolishness."

Julian was gone the day I left the hospital.

Sophie handled the paperwork and took me back home.

Everything in the house was exactly as I'd left it.

The signed divorce agreement lay on the coffee table.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

But deep down, I knew everything was different now.

My heart was dead. My home was gone. And so were my children.

I wandered through the rooms like a lost soul.

Finally, I dragged a small suitcase out of the walk-in closet.

I only took a few of my own clothes and the only photo I had of my mother from the nightstand.

I didn't touch any of the designer bags or jewelry he gave me.

They were a twisted reminder of how fake our three-year marriage was.

I left his house keys on the entryway table.

Then, I left the place that trapped me for three years without looking back.*****

Outside, the sunlight was dazzling. I squinted, the glare almost blinding.

I was free.

But I had no clue where to go next.

In the end, I decided to leave the city of Riverton behind.

There were just too many suffocating memories here.

I needed a fresh start.

Somewhere where no one knew me or my past.

Sophie drove me to the airport.

She hugged me, bawling like a little kid.

"Rosalind, are you really leaving? How can I let you go alone?" she sobbed.

I patted her back, offering what comfort I could.

"Hey, I'm not a kid anymore.

"I can take care of myself.

"I was fine on my own before, remember?"

Before meeting Julian, I was always alone.

My parents split when I was a kid and both started new families.

They treated me like unwanted baggage.

Sophie was the only warmth I felt in my loneliest moments.

"Call me as soon as you arrive," she said, trembling.

"Need cash? I can transfer some now," she said, reaching for her phone.

I grabbed her hand to stop her.

"Sophie, I have enough saved," I assured her.

"Take care of yourself. Don't make me worry."

We kept talking, not wanting to say goodbye.

I only let her go when the boarding announcement sounded.

Then I spoke softly. "I'm leaving. Don't forget to miss me."

I wheeled my suitcase toward the security checkpoint.

I didn't look back.

I knew if I looked back, I'd never be able to walk away.*****

The plane lifted off the runway.

As the city shrank, tears finally fell down my face.

Goodbye, Julian Crest.

Goodbye to the three years of my youth.

Goodbye to the love that died long ago.

I chose to move to a small town down south.

The weather here was pleasant, felt like spring every day.

Most importantly, it was a world away from Julian.

I used my small savings to rent a tiny apartment alone.

It's small but cozy. And a balcony that was always drenched in sunlight.

I filled the balcony with flowers, creating a small garden.

I got a job as a library assistant at the local library.

The work was easy—shelving books and tracking checkouts.

And the pay was low but enough for me to get by.

I started getting back into the rhythm of life.

I went to bed early, woke early, and cooked daily.

In my downtime, I'd read or take care of my plants.

Sometimes I walked the beach, listening to the waves.

I quit makeup and fancy dresses that made me feel trapped.

I started wearing nothing but plain T-shirts and jeans.

I finally began to live for myself.

I blocked all numbers and accounts linked to Julian.

I did everything I could to erase him from my life completely.

But some wounds run too deep to forget, especially when the world goes quiet at night.

The cold scar on my lower abdomen was a constant reminder of what I had lost—my children, two of them, who never got to see the world.

Whenever that happened, chest pain overwhelmed me like a tidal wave.

I curled up like a wounded animal, nursing my pain in silence.

I thought things would just go on, not great but not terrible, until that day came.

That is, until one day.