Chapter 2

Adam and I started talking thanks to a school pen pal assignment.

Back then, I was in a small elementary school, and because I was born with a cleft lip and palate, everyone saw me as a freak.

So I grew up withdrawn, insecure, gloomy, and a bit fixated.

So when Adam's letter came from the world beyond these distances, it felt like a lifeline.

I grabbed onto it like it was my last chance to survive.

I desperately poured all the resentment and darkness in my heart into that letter.

I told Adam how much I despised my dad. He wasted his days drinking and gambling. He'd rather gamble away his entire paycheck than spend three grand to get me the treatment I needed.

I said I hated my mom, too. She only ever cared about having a son.

I wrote that I hated my grandma. If I didn't work, she'd chase me around with a stick, beating me like I was some monster she wanted to drive out.

Back then, I treated that letter as nothing more than an outlet for all my resentment. Redemption never crossed my mind. I just needed to vent.

But I never expected that two weeks later, Adam would write back.

Along with his reply came ten thousand dollars for my medical expenses.

Adam wrote in his letter: [My mom asked me to pass this on to you so you can get treatment.]

When I held that fat wad of bills in my hands, I burst into tears, trembling all over.

That money changed everything; it paid for my surgery and fixed me up for good.

Adam and I became friends, even though we had never met face-to-face.

He'd tell me about his world, where there were amusement parks and housekeepers.

And I'd tell him how many eggs my chickens laid, and how much money I managed to make on the sly selling wild herbs.

From when we were ten all the way to eighteen, through countless springs and autumns, Adam and I spent all those years writing to each other, sharing every bit of our lives.

So when I found out Adam was aiming for a college famous for science and engineering, even though I sucked at science, I did everything I could to get into the same school as him.

But Adam was the golden boy back then, and I was so insecure, I was too embarrassed to let him know I had been his pen pal for a whole decade.

I could only secretly leave an umbrella for him when it rained, and he was caught without one.

When he skipped breakfast, I'd use the money I earned from a week of waiting tables to buy him a fancy breakfast.

And when he was sweet with Serena, I could only watch them together from a distance.

The memories sent a fresh wave of pain through my chest.

Just as Serena arrived at the entrance of the private room, a row of waiters came over, each carrying a bouquet of flowers. Leading the group was Lucas Grant, Adam's secretary.

Seeing Serena, Lucas said with respect, "Ms. Jennings, these are from Mr. Sinclair."

Serena's cheeks turned a shy shade of red.

"Seriously, Adam. I already told him I don't mind if he has to work late, but he still goes overboard like this," Serena muttered.

Seeing the shy blush on Serena's face, I clenched my fists so hard my palms stung.

Lucas, standing next to Serena, spotted me.

His steps faltered for a moment, but his gaze quickly slid from me to Serena.

"Ms. Jennings, you know Mr. Sinclair would never want to upset you," Lucas said.

With that, he pushed open the door to the private room and ushered Serena inside ahead of everyone else.

My chest tightened so much I could barely breathe. Just as I was about to follow the crowd into the room, Lucas grabbed my arm.

"Mrs. Sinclair, can we talk for a moment?" Lucas asked.

There was no respect on his face, nothing like the way he treated Serena, not even a hint of it.

It was like the past seven years of our marriage; whenever Adam didn't come home, I'd call Lucas to ask where he was.

Every single time, Lucas would brush me off, saying Adam was in a meeting and couldn't take my call.

Or he'd act like it was part of his job as Adam's secretary to keep me in the dark about Adam's whereabouts.

I smirked, pausing right where I was.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked.

Lucas coolly swept his gaze over my face.

"Mrs. Sinclair, you should leave. Mr. Sinclair will be here soon, and he can't stand drama. If he finds out you crashed this reunion on purpose, he'll be pissed. Now that his mother's passed, you've got nothing to hold over him anymore," Lucas said.

My chest tightened so much I could barely breathe, but I stared Lucas down.

"Fine, let Adam come over and confront me. I want to ask him what's really going on with Serena being his girlfriend," I snapped.

With that, I shoved Lucas aside and stormed into the private room.

But I didn't bother sitting down. I grabbed a few random drinks from the table and knocked them back, not caring if they were clear or red.

The sharp burn of the alcohol tore down my throat, and in that fiery haze, I finally let the tears fall.

Adam only married me because his mother, Monica Sinclair, pressured him into it.

After all, Serena left when the Sinclair family lost everything.

And me? I was that broken little girl Adam had helped since childhood, throwing myself at him like a moth to a flame.

After Adam's dad, George Sinclair, jumped to his death, Monica had a stroke and was left paralyzed.

I was the one running around, doing everything for her for five whole years, so Adam could finally break free, start his own business, and reclaim Sinclair Enterprises.

By the third year of taking care of Monica, she made Adam marry me.

Thinking about how Adam and I spent four years of marriage acting like courteous guests under the same roof, it hurt so much I could hardly breathe.

I finally reached my breaking point. I slammed my glass down on the table and stormed out.

Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe it really was time for me to walk away.

After all, I didn't dare to tear down that last barrier between Adam and me—not now, not here.