Back then, to bankroll Mark Delgado's dream when he had nothing, I'd washed dishes at a night market through the dead of winter, my hands cracked and peeling from the icy water.

He used to cradle those hands in his, eyes rimmed red, swearing he'd be good to me and only me for the rest of his life, that he'd never let me suffer again.

Now he stood by while strangers belittled and mocked me, and not a single word came to my defense.

I forced down the storm rising in my chest and stepped forward.

Lucretia Monroe saw me, and her smile froze on her face.

"Take it off once you've tried it on. Ava, come look and see if you like it."

Mark gestured for Lucretia to remove the ring, and she froze a moment before fumbling to slip it off, head bowed.

"It's such a hassle, taking it off and putting it back on. You like it, so keep it."

Mark's face darkened all at once, and he snapped at me for making a scene.

He'd just reached for my hand to push the ring onto my finger when the glass display case in the store shattered with a violent crash.

Jagged shards sprayed everywhere, screams breaking out all around.

A splinter slashed across Lucretia's cheek, and a thin line of blood welled up instantly.

She shrieked in terror, and Mark immediately shielded her, checking her wound.

Then he wrapped her tight in his suit jacket and rushed her away to somewhere safe.

I was knocked to the floor by the panicked crowd, my knees throbbing where they hit, my palm cut open by the glass.

I was about to cry out for help when a vicious cramp tore through my lower belly, like something was peeling away inside me, piece by piece.

I watched their backs disappear, watched the diamond ring lying abandoned on the floor not far off, and a hollow laugh escaped me.

The chaos slowly settled. A clerk helped me up off the floor, apologizing over and over.

She said some rich man's kept canary had dropped millions in the store, and when the wife found out, she'd lost it and come to smash the place.

The pain in my belly surged harder.

Before the last thread of consciousness slipped away, I felt a broad, strong arm scoop me up, holding me tight, calling my name in a frantic rush.

Was it Mark?

Didn't his heart belong only to Lucretia?

The thought drifted through me. If it really was him, then somehow I felt I could forgive all of it.

When I opened my eyes again, a sickly white hospital ceiling stared back.

The smell of disinfectant made me wince before I could stop myself.

"Such a shame. If she'd been brought in sooner, the baby might have been saved..."

The nurse's face was full of pity. Seeing the color drain further from my face, she couldn't help but offer comfort.

"Don't grieve. You're so young. You'll have more children."

Tears slid down without a sound and struck the pillow.

This was my second child with Mark Delgado. And I couldn't keep this one either?

Three years ago, when Mark was just starting out in the art world and beginning to make a name, he'd snatched a rival's resources and earned their hatred.

They hired men to corner him in an alley, set on breaking his hands and destroying his future.

In that critical moment, I threw myself in front of him without a second thought, and a heavy iron bar came down hard across my body.

What fell with me was the ultrasound printout clutched in my hand.

That tiny embryo on the page dissolved into wreckage on the ground.

Mark knelt and held me, his hands trembling almost beyond control, his eyes red as he roared out his vows.

He said he'd spend his whole life making it up to me, that he'd never let me suffer the slightest hurt again.

He said we'd have a houseful of children, grandkids gathered at our knees.

But it seemed even heaven wouldn't allow it.

The door creaked open. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look.

"Mark Delgado, I don't want to see you right now."

A long silence. Then he set a cup of water down by my bedside.

"Um... Ava, it's me."

I opened my eyes.

It was Dana Barnes.

His eyes were threaded with red, the clear sign he'd kept watch over me all night.

I gave a self-mocking little laugh and sent him an apologetic look.

Dana helped me sit up, and through the gap in the door, I caught the figure passing down the hallway.

Mark was carefully smoothing ointment over Lucretia's skin, his movements gentle and patient, his eyes full of tenderness.

"Artistic men are so soft and attentive. Honestly, those two make a fine pair standing together!"

The nurse, seeing me lost in the sight, couldn't resist the jab.

Every word, every syllable, carved at my heart like a slow blade.

Dana shifted to block my line of sight. "Ava, don't look anymore."

But I still couldn't let it go.

With trembling fingers, I dialed Mark. The phone rang for a long while before his impatient, dismissive voice finally came through.

"I'm busy with the exhibition. Whatever it is, tell me later."

The line went dead. He hadn't even had the patience to hear a single word from me.

I sank back into the hospital bed.

I don't know how much time passed before Mark sent me a video.

Curious, I tapped it open.

On a luxury yacht, fireworks burst across the sky in dazzling bloom, and Mark stood shoulder to shoulder with Lucretia.

He turned his head to look at her, exactly the way he'd looked at me ten years ago.

The message that followed twisted something tight in my chest.

"Today is my birthday. My mentor says nothing matters more than my birthday. If big sister has something to say, she can wait until after midnight."

The first year we were together, Mark celebrated my birthday. It was the only birthday we ever spent together.

Holding a tiny cake no bigger than his palm, he made me a promise.

He said that once our lives were settled, he'd buy out the entire night sky for my birthday, set off fireworks all night long, and cook me French steak with his own hands.

But every birthday after that, he always had some reason to be absent.

And to spare him the guilt, I lied every time and said I didn't mind.

I stared at the message thread, dazed, and by the time I came back to myself, both the video and the message had been deleted.

After three days and three nights of fevered sleep, I finally clawed my way back to clarity.

I opened my phone to find the screen flooded with Mark's messages, hundreds of them packed tight, every single one about the exhibition and work logistics.

From start to finish, not one word of concern. He didn't even care where I'd been these past few days.

I suddenly felt that I was less his lover than his business partner.

The college romance I'd once been so proud of had become a cake past its date. The outside still looked whole, but inside it had long gone sour and rotten.

Just then, Mark sent someone over with a gift box. Inside was a couture evening gown.

It was meant for tomorrow's exhibition.

I ran my fingers over the lavish, exquisite fabric, and a thought rose in my mind.

"Take it to Miss Monroe. Tell her Mark picked it out for her himself."

Then I lowered my head and opened an anonymous email.

Mark, I've prepared a special exhibition for you, to put a period at the end of our ten years.