Chapter 5
“What are you going to do?” Jamie asked.
“I want a divorce.”
She hesitated, worry flickering in her eyes.
“Brandon’s at the peak of his career. He’s probably not going to risk a divorce–it’d affect his reputation.”
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“And you two have always seemed solid. Even if you go to court, the judge probably won’t grant it right away.”
My phone buzzed.
A text from Brandon lit up the screen: [Baby, just give me a little time. I’ll fix this.)
A wave of nausea rolled through me.
By the t
By
time we stepped out of the lounge, it was already three in the morning.
A familiar car sat parked outside.
Brandon leaned against the driver’s side, cigarette between his fingers, the ember flaring in the shadows like a pulse of red warning.
I didn’t even know he smoked.
The moment he saw me, he stubbed it out in a hurry and rushed over.
went to Jamie’s. Knocked, but no one answered,” he said breathlessly. “I got worried, so I asked a friend to pull traffic cam footage
I cut him off.
“I’m fine. You should leave.”
“The divorce papers will be in your inbox in a few days. Just sign them.”
.He froze.
“Rachel, don’t joke like that.”
“We’ve been together for years. You think you can just walk away?”
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“I told you I’ll take care of the Ashley situation. Let’s just go home and talk, okay?
He grabbed my arm and tried to steer me toward the car.
Without hesitation, Jamie swing her handbag hard at him.
“Get your hands off her, you cheating piece of shit!”
It was one of those oversized Dior totes–heavy as hell–and Jamie did not hold back
Brandon took every hit with gritted teeth, not even dodging.
Then, suddenly, the passenger door flung open and Ashley Monroe floated out like she’d been waiting for her cue.
She ran over and threw herself between us, standing in front of Brandon like some tragically devoted heroine.
“You have no right to hit him!” she snapped.
Jamie blinked. Then she laughed a single, disbelieving bark of a sound–and pointed at Brandon.
“You came here to apologize, and you brought her with you?”
“Great. Guess I’ll just beat the crap out of both of you.”
She raised her bag again, alming straight for Ashley’s face.
1 moved fast to stop her, afraid things were about to go too far.
fire.
But before I could say anything, someone shoved me hard, and I hit the ground–pain ripping through my side like th
Brandon had pushed me
To protect her.
Everything stopped.
Even he looked stunned at what he’d done.
He stared at me, wide–eyed, horror creeping into his face.
I didn’t say a word didn’t cry, didn’t scream. I just looked at him…. and smiled. The kind of smile that never reached my eyes.
He took a step toward me, but Ashley clung to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Brandon… I think I twisted my ankle…”
Jamie rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle she didn’t pass out–then smacked Brandon straight across the face.
You disgusting bastard. Just go.”
“Take your budget Barbie and get the hell out of here.”
Ashley’s lips quivered as she glared at Jamie, visibly offended.
Jamie glared right back, her voice dripping venom.
“Keep glaring. It won’t fix your cheap perfume or your trashy taste.”
“And by the way–based on the soundtrack from upstairs, you were moaning like you were auditioning for a damn porno.”
Back at Jamie’s place, I curled up on her guest bed.
Everything inside me felt like it was unraveling
Thoughts swirled in my head like a storm, loud and violent, battering everything I had left.
He loved her.
That kind of instinctive, unconscious affection–you can’t fake it.
My phone lit up beside me, notifications piling in–one after another after anotheb
[Does it still hurt? Did your leg flare up again?]
(I didn’t realize it was you–I was just reacting. It’s my fault.]
[We’ve never gone this long without speaking. Please, can we just talk?]
(Don’t cry. I hate thinking you’re upset.]
I gripped the phone tighter, and the pain in my chest exploded.
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I hadn’t shed a single tear—not when I found the tie clip, not when I listened to that recording, not even when I caught them in the act.
But now? Now, hot, unstoppable tears came, as if something inside me had cracked open, letting everything I’d held in slip free.
I pulled the covers over my head and cried into the silence.
He knew what I’d been through
He knew how long it had taken me to heal from everything that happened with my parents.
He knew how often I woke up gasping from nightmares, and how I sometimes couldn’t breathe through the panic.
He used to be the one who pulled me out
He used to wake at the slightest change in my breathing, whispering my name until I came back to him.
He used to say he never wanted me stuck in a nightmare a second longer than I had to be.
But now?
Now he was the one who put me there.
And this time…
There was no waking up.
