Skylar

My mind rejected the image before my eyes could fully accept it.

No. That wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

I shook my head slowly, one hand pressed against the car for support as the ground seemed to tilt beneath me. My breathing came shallow and ragged, each inhale burning in my throat.

My heart pounded. Not Kate. Not the cousin who had hugged me just minutes ago inside the hall, laughing like we were still the girls who used to share secrets during family gatherings.

The door clicked open.

Alex stepped out, shirt hastily buttoned, hair disheveled. His eyes widened when they landed on me.

“Skylar—”

He muttered a curse under his breath and quickly shut the door behind him, as if that could erase what I had already seen.

I couldn’t speak. My chest felt too tight, like something was crushing it from the inside. Tears stung my eyes, hot.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, voice edged with irritation as he adjusted his collar.

The question was so absurd it almost made me laugh. Almost.

“What am I doing?” My voice cracked. “What are YOU doing, Alex?”

Kate emerged from the backseat a moment later, smoothing her dress with surprising composure. She didn’t look ashamed. She barely looked surprised.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s the one who came to me.”

The casual tone hit deeper than any shout could have. This was the same Kate who had once stayed up with me during my worst nights, promising we’d always have each other’s backs.

My stomach churned.

Alex let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Skylar, relax. It’s not that deep. Don’t overreact.”

I stared at him, waiting for something, anything that resembled remorse. An apology. Even a flicker of guilt.

There was none.

“You’re not even going to say sorry?” I whispered.

He looked at me like I was being unreasonable. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Let’s be honest… we didn’t exactly marry for love, did we?”

The words landed like a slow punch to the gut. My legs felt unsteady.

“I got bored,” he continued, his tone flat but defensive, as if he were explaining something casually. “You’re… plain, predictable. I needed variety. Don’t overthink it.”

Plain. Predictable.

The memory of my father’s debt flashed through my mind. The Blackwoods’ offer: marry Alex and the debt vanishes. I had agreed without hesitation, sacrificing my final year of college, my dreams, my freedom, just because I couldn’t watch my father be destroyed.

And this was what it had all been for.

I turned away, legs moving despite being so shaky.

“Skylar!” Alex called after me, annoyance clear in his voice. He caught up quickly and grabbed my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Inside,” I said, voice trembling. “Or anywhere that isn’t here.”

He scoffed, eyes flicking toward the hotel entrance. “Like that? With your face swollen and tears everywhere? You want to embarrass me in front of everyone?”

A broken sound escaped me… half laugh, half sob. “You already took care of that yourself.”

Before he could respond, sharp heels clicked against the pavement.

“What is all this noise?”

Cecilia Blackwood’s voice made my body run cold like ice water. She stopped a few feet away, her gaze sweeping over the three of us with an unreadable gaze.

I looked at her, tears streaming freely now. “I… I saw Alex with Kate. In the car.”

Cecilia stared at me for a long moment. Then she let out a soft, humourless laugh.

“So?” she said calmly, as if I had complained about the weather. “Why are you making such a scene?”

The dismissal made something twist painfully in my chest.

She stepped closer, her expression cool and assessing. “I never understood why my husband initiated this marriage in the first place. You’ve always been… out of place here.”

Each word was delivered quietly.

“You changed everything about yourself to fit into this family. You gave up your studies. You reshaped your entire life. And still…” She tilted her head slightly. “It wasn’t enough, was it?”

For two years, I had been reshaping myself for this family piece by piece, until I barely recognized the woman I used to be.

I stopped wearing clothes Alex didn’t approve of. I learned how to smile softly instead of laughing too loudly because Cecilia once called it embarrassing. I stopped speaking about going back to college after Alex told me there was no need for his wife to work.

Even my old dreams slowly disappeared.

Somewhere along the way, I became careful about everything, how I spoke, how I sat, how much space I took up around them. I kept adjusting myself, thinking that if I loved Alex enough, if I became easier, quieter, and “better”… eventually this family would accept me.

And standing there now, with Cecilia looking at me like I was still beneath them after everything I had sacrificed, I realized none of it had ever mattered.

Cecilia’s eyes moved over me slowly. “Perhaps if you had tried harder to be the kind of woman this family needs, he wouldn’t have needed to look elsewhere.”

The implication sank deep and cold.

I staggered back a step, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach. The pregnancy test still hidden in my purse felt like metal.

I was going to tell him tonight. I thought this baby might have fixed us.

The realization crashed over me, making me feel slightly dizzy. There was no fixing this. There never had been.

I don’t remember breaking away from them. One moment I was standing there, the next I was back at the car, fingers shaking as I pulled the door open. The keys were still in the ignition.

I slid behind the wheel of the same car where my husband had just been with my cousin. The scent of perfume and sweat still lingered faintly. My stomach twisted.

The engine roared to life.

I just needed to get away. Far away.

The road blurred as tears kept falling, no matter how many times I wiped them. Streetlights stretched into hazy streaks. Rain began to fall, light at first, then heavy, pounding against the windshield like the chaos inside my chest.

My hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles ached.

“I was going to tell you today…” I whispered brokenly to the empty seat beside me. “We were supposed to have a baby, Alex.”

A sob escaped my throat. The pain was so sharp it felt physical, like something tearing apart inside me.

The rain intensified. My vision swam. The tires lost traction on the wet road.

For one terrifying second, everything slowed.

Then the car spun violently. Metal screamed. The world tilted as the vehicle slammed into something solid.

My body jerked forward, the seatbelt pressing across my chest. A blinding pain exploded through my head. Warm liquid rolled down my temple.

The last thing I felt before darkness swallowed everything was the crushing fear for the tiny life I hadn’t even told him about yet.

Skylar

The lights were too bright.

I squeezed my eyes shut the moment I opened them, but the sterile white glow burned through my eyelids anyway. A dull, steady ache pulsed behind my forehead. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled my nose with every breath.

Hospital.

The realization came slowly, like my mind was moving through thick fog. I tried to sit up, but the room tilted violently. A soft groan slipped from my lips.

“Don’t move too quickly,” a gentle voice said.

A nurse stood beside the bed, her expression careful and kind. An IV line tugged at the back of my hand.

“What… happened?” I rasped, my throat painfully dry.

“You were in a car accident. Mr. Blackwood brought you in. You’re stable now, but you need rest.”

Mr. Blackwood. Alex?

My fingers instinctively drifted to my stomach. A strange, heavy dread settled there.

“Is my baby okay?” I whispered.

The nurse went still.

The silence stretched.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “The accident… W-we couldn’t save the pregnancy. You had a miscarriage.”

The words hung in the air, refusing to settle. I blinked once. Then twice.

“What?” My voice sounded small. “No… that’s not possible.”

Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, dripping to my hands. A broken scream tore from my throat.

“No… no, please…”

My hands pressed harder against my stomach as if I could somehow hold on to what was already gone. The emptiness hit like a physical wound, hollow and sharp at the same time.

Everything I had lost in one night crashed over me again. The betrayal in the parking lot. Kate’s casual shrug. Cecilia’s cold stare. And now this.

The nurse murmured something soft and sympathetic, but I barely heard her. She eventually stepped out, leaving me alone with the steady beep of machines and the crushing silence.

I didn't know how long I laid there.

At some point the tears stopped, not because the pain had faded, but because I had gone numb. My body felt heavy. Like I was floating just above myself, watching everything from a distance.

The door opened again.

Alex stepped inside.

For a long moment, I simply stared at him. No anger surged. No desperate hope. Just a vast, tired emptiness.

He stopped at the side of the bed, his expression carefully blank. Almost uncomfortable.

“Glad you’re alive,” he said quietly.

Before I could respond, he pulled a folder from under his arm and dropped a stack of papers on my lap.

Divorce papers.

My fingers brushed the edge of the document.

“Sign them,” he said. His voice was low, almost tired. “Let’s end this cleanly.”

I lifted my gaze to his face, searching for something… regret, guilt, even irritation. There was a flicker of discomfort in the way he shifted his weight, the way his eyes avoided lingering on mine for too long. Like this conversation was costing him more than he wanted to admit.

“If you’re worried about your father’s debt,” he added, glancing away briefly, “it’s already handled. Just… sign. We both know this marriage stopped making sense a long time ago.”

Something inside me broke even further, but the break felt distant now.

That younger version of me, the one who would have begged, who would have asked what she did wrong— was gone. Buried somewhere beneath the betrayal, the humiliation, and the tiny life I had just lost.

My hand moved almost on its own. I took the pen he offered.

Each signature felt like erasing pieces of myself.

When I finished, Alex took the papers without a word. He didn’t thank me. He didn’t apologize. He simply turned toward the door.

For the briefest second, he paused, shoulders tight. His jaw tightened slightly, but he said nothing.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Silence swallowed the room again.

I sat there for several long minutes, staring at nothing. The numbness wrapped tighter around me. Suffocatingly so. My body felt like it belonged to someone else.

My thoughts moved slowly. I didn’t remember deciding to move. I only remember the moment I was suddenly standing beside the bed, the IV line dangling loosely after I had pulled it free.

A thin trail of blood ran down the back of my hand, but the sting felt unimportant.

My bare feet touched the cold tile floor. The chill traveled up my legs, distant and muted.

I started walking.

Not with purpose. Not with determination. Just… moving. One unsteady step after another, guided only by a hazy instinct to get away from that room, from that bed, from the pain of everything I had lost in a single night.

The hallway lights blurred overhead.

Voices called out behind me, a nurse shouting “Miss, you can’t leave yet!” but the sounds felt muffled, as if they were coming from underwater.

My legs trembled beneath me. The world tilted dangerously.

Then I collided with something solid.

Strong arms caught me before I could crash to the floor, steady and surprisingly gentle. A clean scent of rain mixed with faint woodiness broke the sterile hospital smell, flooding my senses for a fleeting second.

My breath hitched.

I tried to focus on the face above me, but everything was already fading.

A deep, calm voice spoke close to my ear, steady and controlled.

“Easy. You’re going to fall.”

The words lingered for a heartbeat...

Then darkness swallowed me completely.

Skylar

When my eyes fluttered open again, I let out a soft groan.

I blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the dim lighting. The first thing I noticed was how unnaturally quiet the room was. No beeping machines, no rushed footsteps echoing down hallways, no sterile hospital smell.

Instead, a rich and expensive scent lingered heavily in the air, polished wood mixed with something faintly cold and masculine, like expensive cologne layered over rain.

My brows pulled together in confusion.

This wasn’t the hospital. But it wasn’t my home either.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to sit up slightly. That was when I realized I was wearing a soft silk robe that definitely wasn’t mine. My eyes widened. I looked around the room properly now. It was huge, luxurious in a way that felt almost suffocating. Soft lighting, dark elegant furniture, thick clean sheets that probably cost more than everything I owned.

My heart started beating faster.

Where was I?

Just then, the door clicked open with a quiet, deliberate sound.

“You’re awake.”

The deep voice broke the silence. I froze instantly. My head turned sharply toward the sound, but my vision was still slightly blurry. I saw the silhouette of a tall man first. Then came the slow, measured footsteps as he stepped further into the room.

His presence alone made the large space feel like it was closing in on me.

I rubbed my temples, trying desperately to clear my vision. As the fog lifted, I finally saw him properly. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a face that looked like it had been carved to perfection.

My breath hitched. Fear and confusion twisted together in my chest.

“W-who are you?” I asked, my voice coming out shaky and weak.

The man paused near the foot of the bed. His gaze stayed fixed on me, steady and unreadable, like he was studying an object.

“You’re asking the wrong question,” he said calmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I frowned, the haze in my head making everything feel slow and heavy. “What…?”

I tried to push myself up further, but a strong wave of dizziness hit me. The room tilted violently. Before I could steady myself, his hand moved, pressing lightly but firmly against my shoulder, guiding me back down to the pillows.

“Stay where you are.”

The command was quiet, yet it carried absolute finality. His touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary. Something about the way he spoke and the steady pressure of his hand made my heart race in a strange, unsettling way.

It wasn’t just fear. There was something else, a weird sense of familiarity that made no sense at all. Like my body had heard that tone before, even though I was certain I had never met this man.

He slowly withdrew his hand, but he didn’t step back far. His presence remained close.

“What you should be asking,” he continued, his voice low, “is how you’re going to pay for the damage you caused.”

My brows pulled together. “Damage…?”

He let the silence stretch between us, watching me struggle to comprehend.

“You damaged my car.” he said calmly.

I blinked slowly, my mind still foggy. “I… what?”

My breath hitched.

The memories came back in broken flashes.

Rain pouring heavily against the windshield. Tires screeching violently against the wet road.

Blinding headlights breaking through the storm seconds before the impact.

Oh God.

The car I hit…

was his.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars." He added.

I stared at him.

“That’s… just for the damage?”

The words barely left my mouth. I had never even seen that kind of money before.

“That doesn’t…” I started, but the words felt useless in my mouth.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving my face.

“Cullinan Black Badge.”

He said it so simply, that it stole whatever strength I had left. No details about what exactly got damaged in the accident. Just the debt.

My hands trembled against the sheets. I swung the blanket off slightly, my legs shaky as I tried to find my balance on the edge of the bed.

“I… I need to go,” I said quickly, my voice cracking. “Thank you for helping me, but I can’t stay here. I really can’t.”

He didn’t stop me with force. Instead, he simply shifted once, just enough that leaving the room would mean walking directly past him. The movement was smooth, but it made the air feel heavier. Like he had already decided I wasn’t going anywhere yet.

“Go where?” he asked, his tone completely unchanged.

“Anywhere,” I whispered, my voice shaking badly now. “Just… anywhere but here.”

His expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker. Then he spoke again.

“Your husband already left you in that hospital bed and walked away.”

My entire body went still. The room seemed to tilt again, but this time it had nothing to do with dizziness.

“How… how do you know that?” I whispered, barely able to get the words out.

He didn’t answer. He never seemed to feel the need to explain himself.

Instead, he stepped a little closer, close enough that I could feel the shift in the air around us.

“Before you go anywhere,” he said, voice low and final, “you’re going to deal with what you owe me.”

My fingers curled tightly into the blanket. My mind felt broken, slow, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in one terrible night.

Just then, a soft knock echoed through the room.

The door opened and a slim, elegant woman stepped inside.

“Mr. Blackwood,” she said politely, bowing her head slightly. “Your schedule is ready.”

The name hit me like a physical blow.

Mr. Blackwood.

At first the name didn’t fully register. Then it did...

Blackwood.

That name wasn’t new to me. It was the same name that had destroyed my life. The name that had forced me to drop out of college, marry a man I barely knew, and shrink myself until I almost disappeared.

The name that had taken everything from me.

My blood ran cold. My fingers went numb against the sheets.

I slowly lifted my gaze back to the man standing in front of me. He gave the woman a small, indifferent nod, completely unfazed by her presence.

He was a Blackwood?...