Chapter 1
On the day I miscarried, my boyfriend, Emmett Bevric, vanished without a trace. In the middle of the night, his close female friend, Paulina Jaskin, posted a photo online–a marriage license bearing both their names.
“Officially hitched. From now on, we’ll weather every storm together.”
Emmett was the first to comment, “I’ll make our first time unforgettable, I promise I’ll be gentle.”
A flood of people followed, leaving their congratulations in the
comments.
Some coworkers, unaware of the truth, even sent me gifts to congratulate
- us.
Biting back the pain, I returned each one, one by one. Then, almost without thinking, I left a comment. “Wishing you a lifetime of happiness, and may you be blessed with children soon.
The girl deleted her post instantly.
After a whole day of silence, Emmett finally called.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You made the poor girl cry, acting like you’re my wife. I haven’t even married you know your place.”
We had been together for ten years. Things like this had happened more times than I could count.
Every time, once he sobered up, he brushed it off as a joke made under the influence.
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The ending was always the same. I’d break down in tears, then swallow the pain and carry on.
But this time, I was done.
When Emmett came back, I was still lying on the couch, wrapped in a
blanket.
ver
The pain in my abdomen was excruciating after the D&C procedure.
He didn’t even bother to take off his coat before he started yelling at me.
“Marina, what the hell did you comment on last night?
“We all run in the same circles–Paulina’s been like a little sister to me
since we were kids!
“She has her reputation to think about. How’s she supposed to hold her head up if people think she’s a homewrecker?”
I stayed silent. He just kept going.
“To make it up to her, I got her a cushy job at the company. You need to post a status and clear things up–just say we broke up.
“If you don’t, I can’t promise I’ll show up next time we’re supposed to get our marriage license.”
that
Emmett had already disappeared 99 times when it was time to get that license.
The first time, Paulina had cramps from her period, and Emmett ditched me to buy her pads.
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The second time, Paulina had a fever. He left me standing outside City Hall, 50 kilometers from home, and drove off.
The third time, Paulina got scared watching a horror movie alone and
called Emmett in tears.
The fifth time…
The sixth time…
I’d been with Emmett for ten years, and he’d left me behind for Paulina 99 times.
This time was the 100th.
“Marriage license? Not necessary anymore.”
I let out a cold laugh, calmly gazing out the window.
That’s when Emmett seemed to remember something, his eyes flicking down to my stomach.
“Don’t talk nonsense–you’re pregnant. Have some chowder, okay? Did you catch a chill last night?”
He handed me a takeout container with half a bowl of watery chowder inside.
Bits of shrimp and leftover celery floated on the surface.
I lowered my eyes to my phone.
Paulina had been sending me friend requests all morning, over and over again.
I kept ignoring her.
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Just a moment ago, Emmett had added me to a group chat with six people.
Five of them were his childhood buddies, and Paulina was the only girl.
The group name was-“Princess Paula’s Knight Order.”
I had barely joined when Paulina sent a
Voice message.
Her words were slurred, her voice thick with tears and the haze of alcohol.
“Rina, please don’t misunderstand. Emmie and I were just joking around after a few drinks.”
The others immediately chimed in.
“What’s the big deal? Paula shouldn’t have to apologize herself.”
“Yeah, I mean, someone here isn’t a princess but sure acts like one.
“We’ve all known each other for years–this is just friends messing around. You’re really going to be petty about it?”
“Paula, don’t feel bad. Why apologize to her? She doesn’t deserve it.”
“If you wanted to sleep, you’d be asleep by now. Why make it everyone’s problem?”
“Where’s Emmett? Dead or what? Why make the girl take all the heat?”
Paulina’s Instagram wasn’t private, and her latest post was front and center, the caption sweet and smug.
“Brand new bride! Nothing better than a bowl of
by hubby after a long night.”
afood chowder made
Emmett hadn’t checked his phone. He was busy peeling back the lid on
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Chapter 1
the takeout container.
The smell of day–old seafood chowder filled the room.
I’d always been allergic to seafood. The stench nearly made me gag.
“Ugh-”
Emmett’s face twisted in annoyance.
“Seriously? You’re gonna gag at chowder now?
“Even if you don’t want it, you should think about the baby.”
“There is no baby.”
My voice was cold as ice. Even though I tried to swallow my hatred, my hand clenched the blanket so tightly my knuckles went white.
He froze, the confidence draining from his face, replaced by a look of panic.
“How is that possible?”
I stared out at the thick, inky night, not wanting to say another word.
His face went pale. For a long moment, he just sat there, then finally looked up at me, eyes red.
He softened his tone, half–kneeling
front
me as he tried to explain.
“Last night, Paula broke up with her boyfriend and wanted to get a marriage license to piss him off. It was just kids being dramatic. We’ll get it annulled in a few days.”
“After the holidays, we’ll go get our license! I promise, we’ll have another baby.”
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His long, elegant fingers gripped my hand, pressing his face into my palm.
His full lips moved beneath that sharp nose, eyelashes thick and just barely hiding his red eyes.
Emmett had always been the golden boy, the one everyone fawned over.
That was why I, hopelessly shallow, had wasted ten years of my life on him.
Once, just seeing him like this would’ve made me melt.
Now, I felt nothing.
“Don’t be upset. If you don’t want chowder, I’ll take you out to eat.
He tugged me up and headed for the door.
The moment he opened the passenger side,
S
a wave of heavy perfume hit
- me.
A pink lace thong was tangled up in my coat, hanging out for all to see.
Emmett’s face went sheet–white.
“Paula insisted on changing into a dress after getting the marriage license yesterday. There was nowhere to change, so I—”
༡
I didn’t react, but he looked like he was sitting on pins and needles, glancing at me before promising again.
“I’ll take care of it. Next week, Monday,
as
soon as the courthouse opens,
wh
I’ll get her divorced.”
The car was dead silent.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and frowned, fishing out a cigarette
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and lighting it.
Through the haze, his irritation finally spilled over.
“Anyone would think you’ve gone mute, not just lost a baby.
“Are you mad at me or not? Not even going to say a word?”
