Chapter 4

When I woke, I was already in the hospital.

A bouquet of white ranunculus sat on the nightstand. Beside it, a neatly folded paper bag held a fresh change of clothes—even the underwear was my usual brand. Tucked beneath the bag was a note.

"Get some rest. I'll come by later to check on you."

Classic Rhys Kingsley.

He wouldn't be sitting in the room waiting for me to wake up. He wouldn't hover at my bedside making a fuss.

He knew I hated being seen at my worst.

Five years apart, and he was still the most thoughtful person I knew.

That week was pure agony.

A cracked rib wasn't going to kill me, but every breath was a fresh reminder of the break.

I lay in bed scrolling through Julian's Instagram, picking at the corpse of our marriage to see exactly how rotten it had become.

Julian and Sienna were having the time of their lives.

Post after post. Sienna's photos, one after another. Their silhouettes leaning against the railing of a yacht, captioned "Perfect breeze." A sushi omakase set for two—she flashed a peace sign while he sat beside her, smiling that warm, easy smile. I opened every single photo, my expression blank, and liked each one.

On day five, I was finally allowed to get out of bed.

The doctor said recovery required light movement, so Rhys walked the corridor with me.

Halfway through our third lap, his phone rang. He glanced at me; I waved him off. "Go ahead."

He stepped away to the far end of the hallway to take the call. Right then, the elevator doors opened.

A whole entourage spilled out.

At the back was Sienna. Julian held her hand with one of his while pressing a phone to his ear with the other, his brow furrowed.

The moment they cleared the elevator, Julian dropped her hand and strode off down the opposite end of the corridor, still talking.

The VIP maternity wing was at the other end of this hallway.

The nurses passing by me began to whisper:

"Mr. Castellano is here with his wife for another prenatal checkup."

"He's booked the VIP suite for the entire year... must be so wealthy."

"Now that's true love."

I leaned against the wall and watched the performance in silence.

Sienna noticed me.

Her step faltered for a moment. Then a slow smile crept across her face, and she walked my way.

"Vivian." One hand rested on the swell of her belly. "You're looking so much better."

"Once this baby's born, you'll need to step aside. Julian told me he's going to give me and the child a legitimate place in his life."

I looked down and let out a quiet laugh.

"My lawyer is already drafting a lawsuit against you." I raised my eyes to hers. "Aggravated vehicular assault. And I already have the dashcam footage from that Porsche of yours."

Sienna's smile vanished.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Julian was coming back.

What happened next took less than a second.

Sienna's eyes went red on cue, her lips trembled, and she dropped to the floor with a theatrical thud, clutching her stomach with both hands. "Julian—she pushed me! She pushed me!"

Pathetic acting.

But Julian bought it.

He charged straight at me and slapped me across the face.

The force sent me stumbling into the wall before I crumpled to the ground. Pain shot through my ribs. My vision went black.

"She's pregnant, and you laid hands on her?" He stood over me, looking down. "What, are you jealous that she can have children and you can't?"

Jealous. What a laughable word.

"Who the hell gave you the right to hit her?"

Rhys was already striding over, face dark, positioning himself between me and Julian.

Julian's stare flicked from Rhys to me on the floor. The anger on his face warped into something else entirely.

"Well, well, Vivian." His voice was cold and mocking. "It's been what, a week? And you've already got a new man."

Rhys didn't waste his breath. He bent down and helped me to my feet.

"I don't have time for your explanations right now." Julian pulled the still-sniffling Sienna up off the floor. "If anything happens to this baby, I will not let it go."

Explanations? What was I supposed to explain?

Julian shot me one last glare, then turned and led Sienna away.

The day I was discharged, Julian's Maybach was parked at the hospital entrance.

He'd even brought flowers. A bouquet of deep red roses.

"Get in." He held the car door open, his voice gentle—like a completely different person. "I know what you've been doing lately. The likes on my posts, the confrontation with Sienna in the hallway—all of it. It's because you still care about me too much."

Absolutely delusional. How could anyone be this conceited?

I said nothing the entire ride. Julian filled the silence with his fantasies.

The car pulled up to my apartment. Once inside, he made me a cup of hot milk with his own hands, carried it over, and sat at the other end of the sofa—a calculated, respectful distance.

"The thing with Sienna—that was my fault. But she's just a passing distraction. I promise you, she and her child will never threaten our marriage." He took my hand, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of it. "I want us to start over. I want a child. Our child."

A promise? I would never believe another promise of his again.

The old me—the me from four years ago—might have fallen for this.

But the Vivian sitting in front of him now had finally seen him for what he really was.

I lifted my head and gave him a tired smile. "All right."

His eyes lit up instantly.

"Close your eyes. I have a surprise for you."

He smiled and played along, letting his lids fall shut.

I pulled the divorce agreement from my bag, flipped to the last page—the signature line—and placed the pen in his hand, guiding it to the space marked for the husband.

"Sign right here."

"What kind of surprise needs a signature?" He laughed as the pen touched paper.

I slid the document out from under his hand the moment the ink was down, snapped it shut, and slipped it back into my bag. "Done."

"What was the surprise?" He raised an eyebrow.

I stood up and smiled at him. "You'll find out tomorrow. I want to be alone tonight. Come see me tomorrow at this time, okay?"

Julian Castellano left my apartment in high spirits.

The door closed behind him. The smile drained from my face, inch by inch.

I sank back into the sofa and opened my laptop.

Rhys had sent me the security footage from the hospital corridor. On screen, Sienna waited until the hallway was empty, then dropped to her knees all on her own, clutched her belly, and started wailing. Directed, produced, and starred in by herself. Crystal clear.

Then I organized the stack of medical reports from the past four years. After the wedding, at his mother's insistence, I'd undergone no fewer than fifty comprehensive examinations. Every single result showed the same thing: perfectly healthy, all markers normal.

I bundled the video and the reports into a zip file, composed an email, and typed Julian's address into the recipient field. I scheduled it to send at ten o'clock the next morning.

By then, I'd be long gone from this city.

Last was the divorce agreement.

I placed it in a matte black gift box, tied it with a silver satin ribbon, and finished it off with a bow. I attached a card. Courier delivery was scheduled for his office the next morning.

Everything was in order.

Eleven that night. Teterboro Airport.

Rhys's Gulfstream G650 sat at the far end of the runway. He was leaning against the stairway railing, and he pressed a cup of hot tea into my hands. "Congratulations. You're free."

I took the cup and climbed the stairs.

Goodbye, Julian.