Chapter 3

I gasped in pain as Donavan ignored my plea for help, his eyes glued to his phone. "After this game," he muttered dismissively.

Hours later, the cleaning lady found me unconscious and called an ambulance, barely saving my life.

Yet now, Celeste gets bumped by accident, my son mocks me, and my husband Kellan slaps me!

How absurd.

Celeste clung to Kellan, her face pale and eyes rimmed red, as if she'd suffered some great injustice.

"Vivienne, apologize to Celeste!" Kellan turned to me, his face contorted with rage.

"I'm fine, it wasn't on purpose..." Celeste bit her lip. "Kellan, who is she?"

Kellan hesitated. "She's..."

"Aunt Winters. She's a bad woman who likes my dad!" Donavan chimed in.

At Donavan's words, something flickered in Celeste's eyes as she looked at me.

"I see...""Excuse me, did I interrupt you?" she said softly, lowering her eyes.

"No, there's nothing between us," Kellan hurried to explain, distancing himself from me.

Ten years of marriage, dismissed with a simple "nothing between us."

I laughed bitterly, struggling to get up from the ground. "Sir, I don't even know you. You pushed me, hit me, and now you're saying strange things. Are you sick or something?"

"Stop pretending. You're here, who would believe you didn't follow me?"

Kellan frowned, his eyes full of disgust as he looked at me.

"I told you, I'm not going to like you. Stop pestering me."

"That's right! Daddy only likes Aunt Winters, give it up!" Donavan chimed in from the side.

Just then, a familiar yet strange male voice came from across the street.

"Vivienne!"

Looking up towards the source of the voice, a man in a white shirt and dress pants was waiting for the traffic light to change.

He held an ice cream cone in his left hand and was holding hands with an adorable little girl, who was waving at me.

My fingers trembled slightly, and I felt a tingling sensation in my nose.

The light turned green, and he scooped up the little girl with one arm, about to step forward.

"Gunner! Stay right where you are!"

Seeing the situation, I couldn't help but scream out in panic.

Startled by my cry, Gunner froze mid-step, remaining rooted to the spot. A second later, a massive truck running the red light zoomed past, barely missing him.

My heart felt like it was being wrenched out of my chest, a suffocating sensation washing over me as if I were drowning.

After triple-checking that no more cars were coming, Gunner finally jogged over to me with the child in his arms.

"That really scared the crap out of me," he said, setting the child down and patting his chest, still shaken.

He then handed me the pink ice cream cone, "Here, Vivienne, your favorite strawberry ice cream."

The corners of his mouth turned up, his eyes brimming with fondness.

"Gunner... Luna..."

Looking at these two faces I hadn't seen in a decade, I was still in a state of shock.

Gunner pressed the ice cream into my hand and ruffled my hair. "What's the matter? I just went to get you some ice cream, why do you look like you're about to cry?"