"I'm just here to grab my stuff. After that, I'm out. And when you two tie the knot? Don't bother telling me."

I turned and headed to my old room.

Dad spat behind me, "Ungrateful brat. What the hell do you think you're taking? Or did you crawl back for your mom?"

My stomach dropped.

The urn I kept by my bed—gone.

I whipped around. He was holding it.

My blood iced. I lunged. "Give it back. That's Mom's. You don't get to touch—"

Crash.

Ashes burst across the floor like smoke.

Dad roared, "I don't get to touch it? You dare talk to me like that?!"

Something inside me cracked.

I shoved him hard. "She was your wife—YOUR wife for decades! Do you even have a soul?!"

That set him off.

He snatched a beer bottle and slammed it into my forehead.

Another sharp crack.

Blood poured down my face, soaking my shirt.

Fiona screamed, "Patrick, stop! You're gonna kill her!"

I blinked through the blur, looked up at him.

He just stared—zero shame. Like he was enjoying it.

Then he pulled out his phone, snapped pics of my bleeding face, and called someone.

His voice flipped fake sweet. "Mark, Jenna acting out again. Don't worry, I handled it. Taught her a lesson—check the pics.

"Come on, ten years married, college sweethearts. Don't throw that away. And back then, it was me—I made her dump you.

"But when you crashed your car, it was Jenna who—"

Mark cut in, ice-cold. "Me making it outta that crash had nothing to do with her. Did she even do a damn thing?"

Dad stalled. "Right, right... but she did—"

Mark sighed. "You want money?"

Dad's eyes lit up. "Yes, yes, the hospital bills—"

A woman's voice broke in. "Mark, Jenna's not perfect, but don't drag her mom into this."

"You're always so kind," Mark said.

Then the frost hit. "Mr. Jensen, if you want my money, let Jenna crawl back and beg."

Click.

Dad cursed. "I beat you bloody and he still doesn't give a damn. Saving him back then was a waste!

"I don't care what it takes—get money. I'm drowning in debt. I need cash to bounce back. And if you don't bring any, I'll kill you!"

I felt nothing.

Just dropped to my knees, scooped up the ashes, and tucked them gently back into the broken urn.

Then I picked it up, held it tight, and walked out. Silent.

Before Mom got sick, I really thought life was good.

Mark and I had this chill college thing going. He seemed normal, lowkey. We dated like any regular couple and even talked about the future.

Then Mom caught Dad cheating, lost it so bad she had a brain hemorrhage and ended up in a coma. Keeping her alive cost a fortune.

The hospital needed a signature. Dad, being her husband, was first up.

He flat-out refused. Gave me two options—dump Mark and marry rich, or let Mom die.

I gave in.

Right after Mark baked me a birthday cake—like, actually baked it—I smashed it and tore into him with the cruelest stuff I could think of. Made sure he'd never look back.

We broke up. I dove headfirst into blind dates.

Every rich guy was either dripping sweat or old enough to be my uncle.

Mark saw me at one of those awkward dinners. He smirked, yanked me up, and dragged me to this shiny car. "Isn't it money you want, Jenna? I've got loads."

Then he floored it. We crashed.

I carried him on my back for miles, stumbling down some sketchy road, then blacked out at the hospital entrance.

When I woke up, Dad had already sniffed out how rich Mark's family was.

Next thing I knew, he drugged us, called the press, and turned it into a headline scandal. Mark had no way out.

We got married.

Looking back, I get why he hated me. I dumped him for money, then ended up chained to him anyway.

I stopped blaming him. Just let it go.

***

One day, someone from Mark's crew sent me a photo.

Some girl curled into him, smiling all soft, her eyes crinkling like mine used to.

But this one? He treated her different. No random arm candy this time. He took selfies with her, shared meals, actually looked happy.

It felt like college us—real, easy.

I just texted back: [Congrats.]

If leaving meant he found peace, then good. Divorce was a win-win.

I applied to study abroad. Picked up shifts at Mandy's bar while saving up.

That's when I ran into her.

One of Mark's friends shoved her toward me. "This is Mark's wife. Don't y'all kinda look alike?"

She rolled her eyes but walked over anyway.

"Renee Gwyn. You're Jenna, right?" she said, flashing that fake-sweet grin.

"So weird... why would Mark ever go for someone like you? People say we look alike, but I don't see it. I'm not old or busted. You should just give it up and divorce him."

I shrugged. "Cool. Tell him to file the papers and marry you already."

Guess that struck a nerve. Her whole expression snapped.

"The one who's not loved? That's the side piece," she hissed. "Doesn't matter if you're his wife—you're just the extra."

I was about to clap back.

Then she glanced past me, grabbed my arm, and threw herself to the floor.

Her glass shattered, slicing her hand deep. Blood everywhere.

Mark burst in like some knight in shining armor. "Who hurt her?!"

He scooped her up and turned on me with a death glare.

"Guess that'd be me," I said flat.

Renee burst into tears, locking eyes with me. "It's... It's my fault. I fell for someone I shouldn't have. Jenna's right, I'm a homewrecker... She didn't do anything."

Mark lost it. "Jenna Jensen, you've gone too far. You want a divorce but now you're attacking and humiliating my friend?"

He held Renee like she'd break in his arms. Right before storming off, he hit me with one last ice-cold look. "Tomorrow's the final day for your mom's payments. If you don't want her thrown out of the hospital, apologize—SINCERELY. Then maybe I'll forgive you."

I watched him leave... and laughed.

'Mark Fletcher, can't wait to see your face when I don't show up tomorrow.'

Next morning, my phone blew up:

[I've invited my friends tonight. Ready to apologize?]

[If you're sincere, I'll give you another shot. You can still be my wife. I'll keep paying for your mom."]

[8 PM. My family house. Don't be late.]

***

By the time the clock hit eight, the Fletcher mansion was bursting at the seams.

Everyone showed up for the same reason—to watch Jenna crash and burn.

Whispers buzzed through the crowd.

"Place your bets—what lame excuse is she rolling out tonight to win Mark back?"

"Honestly, just dump her already. She's a total parasite. At least Renee knows how to treat a man."

Renee stood close, eyes locked on Mark like he was the only guy left on Earth.

Mark didn't even glance her way. He was too busy checking his watch.

Jenna was late.

He fired off a text:

[Where are you? You're already late. I'm giving you 30 more minutes.]

Message failed. Red exclamation mark.

She'd blocked him.

Gavin snorted. "Bro, you think she's actually for real this time? Like, final-final divorce?"

Mark scoffed. "No chance. Mrs. Jensen's her whole world. She won't leave me."

That's when Gavin's latest girlfriend, Ariana, dropped the bomb.

"Wait... Margaret Jensen? Room 6602 at PremierCare? That was Jenna's mom?" She blinked. "But... she died months ago."