"Hey! Rylan, what are you doing? Don't kill someone over this—"

The sound of a bottle shattering and men shouting faded behind me as I ran.

By the time I stumbled into the elevator, my strength gave out. I leaned heavily against the wall before the tears came fast and uncontrollably.

We'd been married three years. I'd long known Rylan had women everywhere. He'd never been pleased about fulfilling the Shaw-Keller family's marriage arrangement in the first place.

Before the wedding, the woman he truly loved—Sloane Miller—had died in a diving accident. He believed it was my fault, or at least the Keller family's doing, so he'd hated me ever since.

After the wedding, he vanished without a trace. Three months later, he returned with another woman in his arms.

Over the next two years, I lost count of how many girlfriends he cycled through. Almost all of them resembled Sloane in some way. But this was the first time he brought home the young woman from earlier—Nora Vance.

That night, when I returned from the hospital, the housekeepers gave me strange looks. It wasn't until I went upstairs and opened the bedroom door that I saw Rylan sprawled across our marital bed.

Nora sat beside him, dutifully feeding him water.

When she saw me, she nearly jumped up in panic. "Mrs. Shaw! Mr. Shaw is drunk—"

I stood in the doorway and waved her off. "Take care of him."

"That wouldn't do. You're his wife, so you should be the one—"

"It's fine. He likes you. He'll be happier if you're the one looking after him." I smiled and turned to leave.

"Maeve!" Rylan suddenly called, stopping me.

With one arm around Nora, he narrowed his eyes at me. "Why are you leaving? You should learn a thing or two from her about how to please your man. Don't just stand there like a block of wood. You don't even know how to open your mouth when we kiss—"

He didn't finish. The crash of a shattered photo frame cut him off. I'd smashed our wedding photo, now lying in pieces on the floor.

Expressionlessly, I looked up at him. "Is there anything else you'd like to say?"

He pushed Nora aside and slowly sat up. "Think carefully about what you're doing right now, Maeve."

I curved my lips into a small smile as I pulled out the divorce papers I'd prepared and handed them to him. "Sign it, Rylan. Let's get a divorce so I can step aside for her."

"Playing the part too far means you don't know when to stop," he hissed.

"Just let me know once you've signed." Without sparing him another glance, I turned and headed downstairs.

As I stepped through the front door, Rylan stood at the top of the stairs, his cold, condescending gaze fixed on me. "Walk away if you want, but don't think you can come back as easily."

I didn't look back or answer.

Dragging my suitcase behind me, I stepped out into the dark, heavy night.

…

Eventon's early winter was bitterly cold. I pulled my coat tighter, brought a small bottle of wine from a convenience store, and devoured a large burger at a street stall.

Almost all my money had been deposited into the hospital account. After scraping everything together, I had only 300 dollars left.

I needed to settle down at a cheap motel before freezing to death on the streets.

Just as I was searching for budget motels on my phone, a man's voice sounded beside me. "Mind if I share your table?"

I didn't look up. "Go ahead."

He sat beside me, and from the corner of my eye, I noticed the expensive fabric and fine cut of his coat.

Surprised, I glanced up at him, only to find him openly watching me.

I frowned, but Jonah Archer's stare only grew bolder.

"It's midnight, Ms. Keller. You're all dressed up and drinking alone. Aren't you worried someone might take an interest?"

"Eventon's pretty safe, so don't worry about it." I pocketed my phone, stood, and grabbed my suitcase, ready to leave.

He followed. "Where are you headed this late? The motels you were looking at are too cheap and unsafe. Shall I book you a proper hotel instead?"

I didn't respond and walked faster, pulling my suitcase along.

"Hey, careful! Watch the cars!"

When a car sped past, he yanked my wrist and dragged me closer to him.

I yanked my wrist free. "What are you doing?"

"Just trying to help a friend," Jonah replied.

I let out a short, bitter laugh. "Help me or sleep with me? I turned you down once, so now you want revenge?"

"Revenge? Is that really what you think of me?" The usual lazy amusement faded from his eyes.

"What else?" I snapped. A blast of cold wind hit my stomach, instantly doubling me over with a violent wave of retching.

Pain churned through my chest and gut. By the time it passed, I was so weak I could barely stand.

Jonah's hand was steady on my back, the other quickly procuring tissues for my mouth. He paid no mind to the bile that had splashed his pants and shoes.

Crouching on the ground, I burst into tears. "Why me? Why does everyone get to hurt me? None of you are up to any good…"

"Maeve," he said softly, his hand moving in slow circles along my back. "No one's trying to hurt you. I never wanted to. I just got back to Cealdan and heard what happened between you two. I couldn't stop worrying.

"I saw you leave the Shaw residence tonight and followed you. I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurting yourself while upset. That's all. If you don't want to see me, I can call one of your friends to pick you up…"

I curtly replied, "I don't have friends. Not anymore since my family fell apart."

Jonah was silent for a long moment. Then, he asked, "Should I call Rylan to pick you up?"

"We're divorced. I signed the papers and walked out with nothing," I said.

Swaying a little as I stood, I gave a small, hollow laugh and continued, "He's right, though. I spent plenty of his money over the past three years. We're even now."

"Do you still love him?" Jonah asked.

I froze, then shook my head. "No. Not anymore. I'm not that pathetic, Jonah."

"In that case, would you try loving me instead?"

My head snapped toward him, eyes wide. "Don't you hate me?"

Back then, when I rejected him, I'd been young and cruel with my words.

Jonah shook his head. He was no longer that impulsive, passionate boy. Time had tempered him into a steadier, sharper man, his calm composure almost outshining Rylan's.

"I thought about hating you," he admitted, "but I couldn't hold onto it."

He stepped closer. "Maeve, how about giving us a try?"

When I didn't answer, he smiled. "Even if it's just to get back at him, use me if you want."

That familiar lazy smile touched his eyes, portraying his words as a harmless jest. Still, the underlying warmth was so potent that meeting his gaze was impossible.

"Let's get you to the hotel. You don't look too well. You need rest," he said after a while.

He took my suitcase and offered his arm. "Hold on tight. Don't fall."

…

Only after I was settled—fresh from a warm shower, robed, and with my long hair patiently dried by him—did Jonah take his leave from the hotel.

Just as he reached the door, I called out, "Jonah."

He turned to look at me, and I rose on my toes, hooking his neck to pull him into a kiss.

The first time I kissed Rylan, he'd pushed me away, scowling that I was like a block of wood before walking out.

Now that I'd learned to kiss, it was with a man I'd never imagined.

The moment my lips parted, Jonah seized control. His large, warm hands found my waist, turning my body and pressing me firmly against the door.

His kiss, unrelenting and utterly consuming, washed over me, and tears slipped free from the corner of my eyes.

"Don't cry, Maeve."

Jonah held me tightly, so I couldn't see the shadowed depth in his eyes when he murmured, "When you cry like that, I lose all my resolve. Even if you're just using me, Maeve, I'll take it."

…

The night was still.

It was early winter in Eventon, yet a faint fragrance of osmanthus lingered in the air. Tiny golden petals drifted across the lake, rippling the surface in widening circles, as though winding around the heart itself.

Jonah was still reeling, overwhelmed by the moment. It was something he'd never dared dream of.

It felt as if invisible threads had wound tightly around his heart, cutting into his flesh. It hurt, but the ache carried a strange relief.

Just like that, he held me close, wrapping his arms around me tightly. As he buried his face in the curve of my neck, his eyes burned with a sharp, swelling sting.

"Maeve."

He wanted nothing more than to crush me into his bones, but in the end, all he could do was whisper in a trembling voice near my ear. "Does it still hurt?"

I was still crying soundlessly, so he kissed my damp eyelids and murmured, "I'll go. Just stop crying, alright?"

But I shook my head and clung tighter to his waist.

In that moment, Jonah realized that even if I asked for his life, he'd give it to me without a second's hesitation.

…

Back at the penthouse suite in Auriel Peak, the room buzzed with liveliness until Rylan suddenly tossed down his cards. "You guys play. I need some air."

Nora started to rise, but he stopped her coldly. "Don't."

He grabbed a cigarette and stepped onto the balcony. Unlocking his phone, he noticed there were still no messages from me. Even the bank card he'd set up for household expenses showed no recent transactions.

That was when it occurred to him that in three years of marriage, I'd only asked him for money thrice.

The first was a year after our family's downfall, when my eldest brother, Martin Keller, was severely injured in an accident. I'd exhausted my savings and still didn't have enough.

The second was when Martin refused to accept being paralyzed. He tried to take his life and nearly didn't make it.

The third was recently, at Auriel Peak, when I ran out of the suite in tears. That night had been Sloane's death anniversary, and Rylan's mood was at its worst. His words had cut without restraint. He never imagined I would ask for a divorce—papers ready, willing to walk away with nothing.

"Rylan, still no word from Mrs. Shaw?" his close friend, Cliff Hendrick, asked.

Rylan took a slow drag of his cigarette and scoffed. "Let her be."

"Don't worry. With the Keller family's mess, she won't last a few days without you. Martin's a bottomless pit."

That was why Rylan was certain I'd never truly get a divorce. Martin and I were very close; I would never leave him or abandon him just like that.

The thought of Martin steadied Rylan's restless heart. Crushing out the cigarette, he replied calmly, "Once she's had a taste of how tough life is out there, she'll understand how easy life was as Mrs. Shaw."

Cliff said, "My grandpa's birthday is in two days. Bring her along. It'll give her an excuse to come back. Women always forgive with just a little coaxing."

He sighed, then added, "Look at Hunter. Ciara's been inseparable from Leonardo in Toommond. You've seen how Hunter's been this past year."

Rylan's fingers tightened around the balcony railing.

Seeing the flicker in his expression, Cliff grabbed his phone and unlocked it with Face ID. Then, he found my number and hit the call button.

Rylan didn't stop him. Maybe deep down, he wanted to make that call too. But all that answered was an automated voice. "Sorry. The number you've dialed is unavailable."

"Great." Rylan let out a cold, short laugh.

I'd blocked him.