Chapter 6

Alec' s first instinct was to protect her.

He grabbed Catalina' s arm, pulling her towards the emergency exit. "Come on, we have to get out."

He didn' t even look back at me. He just ran, dragging her with him.

I stood there, watching them go. A part of me, a small, stupid part, wanted to call out his name. But I didn' t.

I knew what Catalina was doing. This was a test. A power play. She was showing me, and him, who he would save in a fire.

He had failed. Again.

The hallway filled with panicked residents. Someone shoved me from behind, and I stumbled, my feet tangling beneath me. I fell hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

People scrambled over me, their feet trampling my hands, my legs, my back. The pain was sharp and blinding. A heavy boot landed on my chest, and I felt a sickening crack.

I couldn' t breathe. The air was being crushed out of my lungs.

Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision. My last conscious thought was of Alec' s face as he ran away from me.

I woke up in the hospital again. The now-familiar smell of antiseptic filled my senses.

Alec was there, smoking a cigarette by the open window. The smoke curled towards the ceiling, a gray ghost in the sterile room.

I coughed, my broken ribs screaming in protest.

He immediately stubbed out the cigarette, his movements jerky. "Haven. You' re awake."

He rushed to my side, his face a mess of guilt and anxiety. "I' m so sorry. I thought you were right behind me. Catalina has asthma, the smoke... I had to get her out."

It was always an excuse. Always a reason why she came first.

"I understand," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper.

He looked at me, confused. "You... you do?"

"Yes," I said. My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. I knew he wasn' t talking to me. He was talking to himself, trying to convince himself that he was a good man who had made a difficult choice.

He relaxed, relieved that I wasn' t fighting him. "Good. That' s good."

A wave of dizziness washed over me. The pain was immense.

"I want to see Nana," I said, the words a desperate plea.

He nodded. "Of course. As soon as you' re better, we' ll go see her. I promise."

He sat by my bed for hours, a silent, brooding presence. His phone buzzed again. Catalina. Some new crisis.

"I have to go," he said, already standing.

I just nodded.

A cold dread seeped into my bones. Something was wrong.

As soon as he left, I used the burner phone Jetta had given me. I called her.

"Jetta, I need you to do something for me. Find out where my grandmother is. Now."

Alec came back late that night. He looked... wrecked. His clothes were rumpled, his hair was a mess.

He stormed into the room and threw a tablet onto my bed. "What the hell is this, Haven?"

On the screen was a news article. A picture of Catalina, her face streaked with tears. The headline read: "PROSECUTOR' S MISTRESS HARASSED BY JEALOUS WIFE."

The article was full of lies, painting me as a vindictive, scorned woman who was tormenting the fragile, innocent Catalina. It detailed my "history of violence," twisting my past as an abuse victim into a narrative of me being an aggressor.

"This was you, wasn' t it?" Alec snarled, his face contorted with rage. "Leaking this, trying to destroy her?"

"No," I said, my voice quiet.

He didn' t believe me. He lunged at me, his hands grabbing the front of my hospital gown. He shook me, my head snapping back against the pillow.

"You' re a monster, Haven! You' re trying to ruin her life!" he screamed, his spittle hitting my face. "After everything I' ve done for you!"

He shoved me back against the bed and stormed out, leaving me trembling, not with fear, but with a cold, clear rage.

I lay there for a long time, the pain in my ribs a dull, constant throb. I thought about our wedding vows. In sickness and in health. For better or for worse.

I wondered if he even remembered them.