Chapter 1

A vehicle collision left me severely wounded and bleeding. Asher, the man who had once sworn to my parents he'd always keep me safe, didn't even look my way. He was preoccupied with securing the seatbelt for his longtime friend, gazing at her adoringly.

"Silly girl, if you bump your head again, don't come complaining to me," he said teasingly.

A bystander summoned an ambulance for me, which ultimately stopped my bleeding.

Seven days later, that same longtime friend, Camilla, approached me confidently, holding a revealing nightgown. She waved it in front of me with a smug expression.

"Avery, I suggested this nightgown would suit you best, but Asher insisted on giving it to me. Would you like it?"

I responded calmly, "No, I don't want it."

In truth, I no longer desired anything from Asher—my spouse of six years.

That evening, feeling the void in my stomach, I packed my bags and left for a two-week beach getaway. During this time, Asher's calls were relentless.

"Where are you? Weren't we supposed to attend the prenatal checkup yesterday?"

His irritated voice came through the phone.

I took another spoonful of ice cream, remaining silent. He must have heard the sound because he sighed, his tone shifting.

"Avery, are you eating ice cream again? The doctor advised against cold foods during pregnancy."

I laughed bitterly and took another large bite. "There's no baby anymore."

Two weeks prior, when the accident occurred, I had begged Asher to take me to the hospital, clutching my abdomen. But he didn't even glance at me. He was seated nearby in his car, focused solely on Camilla, his cherished longtime friend. He gently fastened her seatbelt, his expression full of affection and flirtation.

Meanwhile, I lay bleeding, feeling the life within me slowly fading away.

I spent a week in the hospital afterward, while Camilla flooded her social media with updates the entire time.

[My longtime friend took me skiing today! I can't ski, so he patiently taught me—who else would understand?]

[Today, my longtime friend and I hiked a mountain. The kiss at the peak—who else knows what that's like?]

[My longtime friend said I'm his one and only sweetheart!]

They reveled in their carefree happiness, leaving his wife and unborn child far behind.

So, when I informed Asher that our child was gone, he didn't believe me and merely scoffed.

"Don't be so melodramatic. I just forgot about the prenatal appointment yesterday. It's not a big deal. I've been too busy and forgetful lately. Don't worry. I'll take time off tomorrow to go with you."

"Where are you now? I'll come get you."

I ignored him and ended the call. He called several more times, so I turned off my phone.

When I finally returned from the beach, the first thing I saw outside the airport was Asher's car parked by the curb. He lowered the window, his gaze indifferent as it settled on me.

"So you still remember how to come back, Avery," he said sarcastically. Clenching his jaw, he added, "You're pregnant; you shouldn't be wandering around like this. My mother's right—you should stay at home."

He frowned, his eyes falling to my stomach. I wore a loose, flowing dress, which concealed everything from his view. I got in the car, put on my headphones, and sat in the back seat.

After a while, the car still hadn't moved. Asher was staring back at me with a slight crease in his brow.

"Why are you sitting in the back?"

I hadn't quite heard him, so I removed one earbud and asked, "What did you say?"

Asher's expression was unreadable in the backlight. "You always used to sit in the front seat."

I lowered my head, letting out a soft laugh as memories surfaced. Like many women, I had once believed that the front passenger seat was the wife's exclusive place. But that illusion shattered the day I found another woman's underwear under that very seat. Since then, just thinking about the front seat made me feel nauseated.

I thought he'd just asked in passing, but he pressed for an answer.

I smiled faintly and said, "Nothing. I just realized I was too naive before."

Asher didn't respond and halfway through the drive, he got hungry and stopped at the restaurant we both enjoyed.

"I'll have the Crispy Crab Cake. What about you? Do you still want Lime Butter Shrimp?"

I nodded, continuing to scroll through my phone. He tried initiating conversation a few times, but seeing my lack of interest, he eventually gave up.

When the food was ready, Asher brought it over himself.

"Avery, I remember you don't like cilantro, so I made sure to remove it all for you."

Perhaps he thought he could mend the rift with a plate of food, his tone now gentle and considerate.

But I simply stared at the plate in front of me, completely devoid of cilantro, and chuckled.

In the six years of our marriage, I'd always eaten Lime Butter Shrimp with extra scallions and cilantro. The one who couldn't stand cilantro was Camilla.

Ignoring him, I got up and quietly asked the owner, "Could you please add some cilantro?"

Asher froze mid-bite, realizing something, and his face shifted slightly.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said with an awkward smile. "I guess I've been so busy lately that it completely slipped my mind. How could I forget you like cilantro!"

I looked at his clumsy acting with mild amusement and let it pass without comment.

After we finished eating, we passed the intersection where my accident had occurred. Even though it had been over two weeks, thinking about it made my chest ache.

After six grueling years of trying, I'd finally conceived—only for the life I carried to end in that crash. It had taken my love and marriage with it.

Taking a deep breath, I sent a quick message to a lawyer friend, [Help me draft a divorce agreement. I'll treat you to a meal soon.]

Suddenly, the car jerked forward as Asher pulled the handbrake. "We're home."

He got out to help me with my luggage, while I continued to type on my phone, making my way upstairs.

As I opened the door, what should have been an empty home was filled with the sound of light footsteps.

"Asher, you're back?" Camilla trotted over, wearing my nightgown and two rabbit-ear clips in her hair. Her smile froze when she saw me at the door.

"...Avery."

Seeing her innocent-looking face, a wave of anger surged in my chest.

Before I could say anything, Asher hurried to explain. "Honey, Camilla's just staying here for a few days."

This wasn't the first time. We'd argued more than once in the past because of her presence in our lives. But now that I was set on divorcing him, I actually felt a strange calm.

Forcing a smile, I moved to go past her and head to my room—until the sight before me stopped me cold.

All my belongings had been thrown out, strewn in a heap by the door. My clothes and cosmetics lay scattered like trash, and my designer handbag, which I had saved three months' salary to buy, was tossed against the wall, scratched deeply by something sharp.