Chapter 1
The third year of Bryce Oswin’s affair was the year I could finally
go home.
For the last ten days, I stopped arguing or crying.
I let him stay out all night with his mistress. I let him give away
the things I once cherished, tossing them to her like scraps.
The day I left was my birthday.
He stormed in with his mistress, knocked over my birthday cake,
and shoved me against the window, one hand locked around my
throat.
He demanded to know why I’d hurt their child.
“When did you get this cruel?” he spat.
I laughed, too tired to bother explaining anymore.
“Yeah. I’m exactly that cruel.
“So go ahead–have a good life with her.”
And with his eyes locked on mine, I turned and jumped from the
19th floor.
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That was the end of it all.
***
It was right after one of our brutal fights.
He’d just come back from sleeping with Karley Elwood, the
model he kept on the side.
He found me lying in bed and slid in behind me, wrapping his
arms around me from behind.
His lips were warm, trailing kisses along my neck, one after
another.
I sat up abruptly and slapped him without thinking.
“Bryce, you might not care about filth, but I do.”
He froze for a moment, touched his face with a bitter little smile,
then suddenly yanked me up.
He shoved me in front of the bathroom mirror, one hand
clamped around my jaw, his eyes sharp and poisonous.
You’re disgusted by me?
“Angela Redford, look at yourself. Do you even recognize the
woman you used to be?”
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I stared at my reflection.
My hair was a mess, the strap of my nightgown slipping off one
shoulder. I looked like a madwoman.
The eyes that used to be my best feature–bright, gentle–were
dull now, lifeless.
Fine lines crept across my face, stealing away any trace of
youth.
For a second, Karley’s face flashed in my mind—radiant,
brimming with desire and ambition, her eyes shining as she
looked at me with open challenge.
“So, Bryce, is that your excuse for cheating?”
I leaned against the wall, laughing bitterly, eyes stinging with
tears.
He moved closer, gently brushing a fingertip beneath my eye.
“I’ve said it before–I’m just having fun. When I get bored, I’ll
come back. Angela, I’ve always loved you.”
Disgusting.
A wave of nausea crashed over me, impossible to fight.
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I screamed in agony, grabbed a bottle, and smashed it into the
mirror. Glass shattered everywhere.
“Get out! Get the hell out!”
After he left, I stood barefoot on the freezing marble floor,
staring out the window at the giant LED billboard–Bryce’s latest
ad for Karley, her face blown up for the whole city to see.
Net out a bitter laugh.
Confrontations like this had happened so many times this year.
The pain that once cut me to the bone had faded, replaced by
numb despair.
Eight years ago, I saved Bryce, a miserable, broken boy.
His father had cheated, the family business collapsed, his
mother killed herself, and he was drowning in debt. There was
nothing but emptiness in his eyes.
I stayed with him in a basement apartment, lived off scraps, and
helped him pay off every cent of that debt.
He once asked me, bewildered, “Why are you so good to me?”
I smiled and took his hand. “Maybe it’s fate.”
Chapter 1
He lowered his head and whispered, “Then you’re the best thing
fate ever gave me.”
When we were finally free, he must have known I’d leave. He
hugged me from behind, eyes red, and didn’t sleep all night.
I caved and held him back.
But five years later, Bryce cheated–right in the third year of our
marriage.
He kept a young, beautiful model–Karley–as his mistress.
