Chapter 3

I couldn't fault them for not believing me. After all, there was a time when even I didn't believe that I would ever truly let Morgan go.

I opened the car door, slid into the driver's seat, and drove home in silence. Memories flooded back in the night breeze like a tide.

I was the heiress of the Brook family of Southguard. I had turned down my childhood sweetheart and fallen hopelessly in love with a poor man, namely Morgan. To marry him, I had severed ties with my family.

When Mom had exiled me from our home, she'd left me with nothing but a solitary winter coat.

At the time, wrapped up in my little bubble of love, I had thought Mom was just a controlling businesswoman who cared only about our image. "Every dog has its day, Mom. I'll show you that my choice is right!"

Morgan and I had our fair share of good times. However, humans were complex creatures. We were a couple who could weather the storms together, yet we couldn't bask in the clear skies.

Morgan, who used to freak out if I so much as scraped my skin, was the same man who jammed a toothbrush down my throat to make me gag when I drank poison. "Milana, I'm begging you to spare yourself and me!"

At times, I didn't understand myself either. Why on earth did I refuse to let go? Perhaps I was indignant.

For him, I had defied my parents, given up the easy life as an heiress to weather bitter, lean years. We had finally made it through the worst, yet with a single, casual remark that he didn't love me anymore, he expected me to just walk away. How could I ever make peace with that?

I was still lost in my thoughts when the car behind me abruptly lost control and rammed into me. With a deafening crash, the chassis juddered violently.

In the very next second, a sharp wave of pain exploded in my abdomen. Warm liquid streamed down my thigh, dyeing my skirt red.

My car's automated system triggered an emergency alert and dialed my emergency contact—Morgan. It rang for 30 seconds before he finally picked up and leisurely asked, "It's only been half an hour, and you've already caved?"

Staring at the blood pooling on my skirt, absolute terror gripped my heart. Pushing everything else aside, I cried out for help. "My car has been rear-ended, Morgan! I'm on Central Avenue. I'm losing so much blood… Please help me!"

A massive chorus of snickering broke out on the other end of the line, piercing my ears.

"Damn, a car accident; she's really stepping up her game!"

"Her performance earlier was so good, I actually thought she'd finally come around."

"No way. A leech like her will cling to Morgan for life!"

Ingrid took the phone and asked me while giggling, "Do you have no pride, Milana? Every time you cling to him, I get secondhand embarrassment."

My consciousness had already begun to fade. The last thing I heard was Morgan scoffing and saying, "She's just crying wolf again. Ignore her."

The line disconnected, leaving only a monotonous beep. My heart turned to absolute stone.

…

Five years ago, Ingrid was merely Morgan's secretary.

The first time they had crossed the line, it had been a drunken mistake. Morgan had gotten on his knees before me and confessed, "It truly was just an accident, Mila. I was set up. I don't know what happened, but the alcohol clouded my mind, and I mistook her for you. Don't worry. I'll fire her and make sure she never appears before you again!"

Ingrid was fired, and Morgan stopped going to work; he spent every waking hour guarding my bedroom door, terrified that I would book a flight and never come back.

One night, I wanted to go out for a walk. When I pushed open the door, I found Morgan sleeping right outside my room. The moment he saw me, he pulled me into a hug and murmured, "I know I messed up, Honey. I've scrubbed myself clean, so please don't leave me, okay?"