Chapter 2

My body never recovered after that.

The doctor said the damage was permanent. Severe scarring. Likely unable to carry again.

I heard it and felt something loosen in my chest.

Good. A child nobody wants shouldn't have to come into this world.

"Vera."

Callum's voice pulled me back.

"That procedure," he said. "I know it left damage."

I looked at him and said nothing.

"How are you — how's your health now?"

Not dying. Not living either.

Cold weather and my joints ached bone-deep.

Every change of season brought the cough. Some nights it went on for hours, and there was blood in what came up.

A doctor had told me I had a few years left if nothing changed.

I wasn't going to tell Callum any of that.

"Don't worry about it," I said.

He nodded. Didn't push.

The car moved through one red light, then another.

I closed my eyes.

---

Callum Hart was my first husband.

We grew up on the same street in Boston.

Same schools, kindergarten through college. Both families had known each other for decades. Everyone said we were the obvious pair.

I was twenty when everything changed.

Serena's mother showed up at our house with Serena in tow. My mother found out her husband had a daughter nearly my age that she'd never known about.

My mother died that winter. A brain bleed. She was already gone by the time the ambulance got there.

The funeral day, Callum came to pay his respects.

He took my hand and said: "The engagement still stands. When the mourning period is over, we'll sign the papers."

The first months of marriage, he was good to me. He was.

But it didn't last long before he fell for Serena.

He told me straight. Said he'd split his assets with me fifty-fifty. Said he wanted a divorce.

I said no.

I cried. I begged. I knelt in front of him and asked if he remembered I was his wife.

He looked down at me. No disgust. No pity. Nothing.

"Vera," he said. "You can't force feelings."

He loved Serena and he didn't hide it from anyone.

When people talked about her, he went after them.

When she cried, he stayed up all night.

When she said she was unhappy, he gave her whatever she asked for.

Including my unborn child.

The car stopped.

"We're here."

The Hart house was right in front of us. The living room light was still on.

Callum's mother was on the couch in her robe.

She saw me walk in and her face went flat.

"Why did you bring her here?"

"She is cursed. Her own mother dies, our family goes bankrupt — and you walk her through our front door?"

I said nothing. I stood there with my eyes down.

Callum said nothing either.

She got louder. Went through everything — my face, my family, my character.

She went for a full fifteen minutes before Callum spoke.

"Mom. It's late. Go to bed."

She shot him a look, shot me another, and went upstairs still cursing under her breath.

Just the two of us.

Callum stood with his back to me. "Don't take it personally."

"Where do I sleep?" I said.

He turned, looked at me once, and led me upstairs. He stopped in front of a bedroom door.

The room we'd shared when we were married.

He pushed it open.

Everything inside had been redone. Pink curtains. Serena's skincare lined up on the vanity. Her photo on the nightstand.

Callum gestured at the room. "You can stay here. Don't move anything. She might come back someday — I don't want her walking in to find it changed."

I walked in and sat on the edge of the bed.

He was still in the doorway. Waiting for something.

I didn't look back. "I'm tired."

He stood there a moment, then turned and walked away. His footsteps faded down the hall.

---

That night I couldn't sleep.

The room smelled like Serena. Her perfume — something thick and sweet — gave me a headache.

I turned over and over. My mind wouldn't stop.

After the divorce from Callum, I'd gone back to my home.

I thought — my father's house, at least. He wouldn't turn me away.

I was wrong.