Chapter 1

On our wedding anniversary, Edward Sinclair booked out the bridge across the river and set off fireworks for half an hour for Vivian Lane, while I lay on a freezing operating table, losing our baby after he hung up on my call for help.

That night, the pregnancy report in my hand became scraps of paper. On a clean sheet of paper, I slowly wrote five words, stroke by stroke: Divorce Agreement. Edward, I've been performing this one-woman show for five years. I'm tired. I don't want you anymore.

*****

The fireworks over the bridge were Edward's birthday gift to Vivian Lane. Their dazzling bursts kept flashing across my bloodless face while the lights in the emergency room made me dizzy, and another savage cramp twisted through my belly until I curled up like a shrimp.

I gripped my phone until my knuckles went white and dialed the number I'd long memorized. It rang so long I nearly gave up before someone answered. The line was full of laughter, clinking glasses, and Vivian's bright, unmistakable laugh.

"Hello." Edward sounded impatient, like I'd just ruined the mood.

"Edward," I said, clutching my phone, my voice shaking so badly it barely sounded like mine. I was practically crying as I begged him, "My stomach hurts so bad... I'm at the hospital... can you please..."

"Mia, what trick are you pulling this time?" His voice went cold on the spot. "It's Viv's birthday today. I already warned you, don't pick a time like this to piss me off."

Vivian's birthday. Right—how could I forget? I still remembered how much money he'd burned and how many strings he'd pulled for that fireworks show, enough for the whole city to know. But he'd forgotten that it was our wedding anniversary too.

"I wasn't..." The pain in my lower belly grew heavier, then warmth spread beneath me and something started pouring out. Terrified, I nearly lost my mind. "I'm bleeding... Edward, I'm really bleeding. Please come. Hurry. I'm scared."

Then Vivian's sweet, sugary voice slipped into the call. "Ed, who is it? Come cut the cake already."

Edward's voice softened at once. "Coming."

Then he turned back to the phone, squeezing out the last bit of patience he had. "Mia, I don't have time for your games. Take a cab home yourself, and don't call me again."

Beep. Beep. Beep. Each tone pounded in my ears and smashed the last pathetic scrap of hope in my chest. When the screen went black, it reflected my bloodless face and my hollow eyes.

"Where is the family? Did you reach anyone?" A nurse rushed over in a panic. "We need the surgery consent signed now."

I shook my head as the strength slowly drained from my body. The pain in my stomach had gone numb, but the hole in my chest kept filling with freezing wind.

Five years ago, I married Edward Sinclair no matter the cost. To everyone else, I was the ordinary girl who'd hit the jackpot by marrying into the Sinclair family. They never saw what I'd given up to become the proper, gentle Mrs. Sinclair.

I learned his favorite dishes, memorized every preference he had, and foolishly believed that if I was good enough, one day I could warm his heart. I forgot that his heart had belonged to someone else long before me.

Vivian Lane—his childhood sweetheart, the girl he treasured above everyone. If she hadn't insisted on going abroad back then, the place of Mrs. Sinclair never would have fallen to me at all.

At the wedding, in front of everyone, he told me, "Mia, remember your place. Don't start wanting things you shouldn't want."

I should have understood it then. I was nothing more than a tool he used to appease his family, yet I was still stupid enough to believe time could change something. Now I finally understood: when someone doesn't love you, even if you died for him, it would mean nothing.