Carter didn’t retaliate; he just wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
“If you want a divorce, come back with me.”
“Even if she doesn’t go back with you, this marriage is ending,” Marcus shot back.
Carter ignored Marcus and stared straight at me, waiting for my response.
I stepped out from behind Marcus, trying to appear calm.
“Alright, I’ll go back with you.”
I wanted the divorce. I wanted a clean break from the past.
So, I had to compromise, at least for now.
Seeing the concern in Marcus’s eyes, I forced a reassuring smile and said, “I’ll call you once this is all over.”
My smile must have been too pale because Marcus hesitated.
But in the end, he respected my decision.
Carter’s hatred for me ran deep.
He took me back to that villa, hoping to awaken my guilt and use it to keep me there, to continue his revenge.
But he never understood.
My fear of that villa stemmed only from respect for the dead and a deep–rooted fear of his love–turned–hatred.
The cold shoulder, the countless public humiliations–those had left scars that could never be erased.
I became silent, withdrawn, cautious.
Yet Carter never noticed. Eventually, I stopped hoping for anything more.
I gathered my courage and asked, “When are we going to finalize the divorce?”
The question enraged him again..
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him, and disappeared for several days.
One sunny afternoon, Amy came over again.
This time, she dropped her pretense and showed her true colors, advancing on me with a predatory grin.
I retreated step by step until I was backed up against the balcony.
+15 80
+15 Bonus
