Chapter 2

"Chloe! Don't worry, I've got you."

Ethan's voice cut through the ringing in my ears. It was so full of panic, so tender. A voice he used to use for me when I had a nightmare or a bad day. Now, it was a sound that sliced me open.

Smoke burned my lungs. The weight on my back was suffocating. Every breath was a battle. I tried to push myself up, but a fresh wave of agony shot through my legs. They weren't responding.

"Ethan," I gasped. My voice was a pathetic whisper, barely audible over the crackle of the fire and the distant sirens. "Help me."

He didn't turn. He was completely focused on Chloe, his hands gently examining her ankle as if it were the most fragile thing in the world. He was murmuring to her, a constant stream of reassurance.

He didn't hear me. Or he didn't want to.

"Ethan, please," I tried again, louder this time. The effort sent a dizzying wave of blackness across my vision.

He finally looked up, but not at me. He was scanning the corridor, looking for a way out. His eyes passed over my crumpled form as if I were just another piece of debris.

Then, with a grunt of effort, he scooped Chloe into his arms. He held her like a bride, her head resting on his shoulder. He started moving toward the exit, his steps sure and purposeful.

He was leaving me.

He was carrying her to safety while I was bleeding out on the floor. The man I had just saved, the man I had married, was abandoning me to die.

The sheer coldness of it was a new kind of pain. It froze the fire in my nerves, leaving behind a hollow, aching void. I was alone. Utterly and completely alone in the chaos.

I gritted my teeth, fighting the darkness that crept at the edges of my sight. I had to stay awake. If I passed out here, no one would find me. I focused on the pain, letting it anchor me to consciousness. It was a vicious, grinding pain in my spine, a hot, searing pain where the metal dug into my flesh.

A memory flashed in my mind, bright and cruel. Our wedding day. Ethan, his eyes shining, whispering his vows. "In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, I will always protect you, Olivia. You are my world. Nothing and no one will ever come before you."

Lies. All of it.

Was this just bad luck? A terrible choice made in a moment of panic? No. His movements weren't panicked. They were certain. He ran to her without a second's hesitation. He left me without a backward glance.

It felt...scripted. As if he were an actor following a director's command. As if in the story of his life, she was the one who needed saving, and I was just a supporting character whose sacrifice was necessary for the plot.

The thought was insane, but it wouldn't leave me.

The double blow of the physical trauma and the emotional devastation was too much. The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me whole was the back of my husband's head as he disappeared through the smoke with another woman in his arms.

When I woke up, the world was white and smelled of antiseptic. A steady beeping sound filled the silence. I was in a hospital.

My best friend, Sarah, was asleep in a chair by my bed. Her face was pale and stained with tears. She woke with a start when I stirred.

"Livia! Oh my god, you're awake!" she cried, grabbing my hand. Her touch was warm, real. "You've been out for two days. The doctors... they weren't sure..."

I tried to speak, but my throat was raw. I just looked at her, my mind slowly piecing things together.

Sarah's face hardened, her grip on my hand tightening. "Livia, there's something you need to know."

I waited.

"Ethan is fine," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "So is Chloe. She has a sprained ankle. And Ethan... that bastard... he pulled every string he had. He had the hospital's top orthopedic surgeon flown in from a conference in Chicago to look at her sprain. He assigned the entire team of top trauma specialists to her wing."

She took a shaky breath. "Your surgery was handled by a junior resident, Livia. All the senior surgeons were on standby for Chloe, just in case."