Chapter 7

Braydon's little pregnant woman caused trouble again.

She claimed the drowning left her unwell.

Braydon had to lie once more. "Allison, wait for me at the hotel. A project hit a snag. Once I sort it, I'll come find you."

Yet he never showed up that night. Not even a call.

The lake water gave Allison a high fever.

Delirious from the burn, she grabbed her phone on instinct. She dialed Braydon without thinking.

That time she burned up. Her mind fogged over. When she picked up Braydon's call, she burst into tears.

Braydon stayed abroad on business then. He heard her sobs and ditched an important meeting right away. He flew back overnight to care for her.

They stayed together nearly seven years. When sick, she turned to Braydon. It rooted deep in her bones.

After long rings, a soft woman's voice answered. "Hey, Ms. Palmer. What do you need with Mr. Saunders?"

Allison snapped awake.

What did she do? They divorced already. Why did she still lean on him?

She moved to hang up. Kathleen giggled though. She said with loaded meaning. "Mr. Saunders wore himself out. He sleeps sound now. Whatever it is, can it wait till tomorrow?"

Allison drew a deep breath. Her voice turned icy. "Kathleen, let me remind you. Every penny Braydon spent on you, from the apartment you live in to the bag on your shoulder, counts as marital assets. I can reclaim it anytime I want. So in front of me, you better keep your head down."

Kathleen went speechless. She stammered awhile. She dared not say another word.

Allison ended the call sharp. She pulled up a delivery app and ordered fever meds. She asked the hotel for hot water too.

As she swallowed the pills and sipped the water, she made her mind.

From here on, she had to get used to life like this. She needed to learn to look after herself.

The Braydon who fretted over her slightest cold died in the past. He would never return.

Allison saw no sign of Braydon the next week.

She got one or two calls from him. He claimed a business trip.

She knew he tended to Kathleen. He could not spare time.

She bothered not to call him out. She prepared her solo ice show as usual. She acted like he never existed.

The performance day arrived in a blink.

Allison rose at dawn. She drove to the theater.

She held this show dear. It might stand as her last figure skating performance in this country for years.

She wanted to bid her domestic fans a proper goodbye.

She drove along. In her head, she ran through the evening's routine.

At an ordinary crossroad though, the light turned red. She stopped.

Bang! A brutal force slammed her from behind.

Her body lurched forward out of control. Her head smacked the steering wheel.

Still shaken, her mind blank, the second hit followed fast.

That car rammed her driver's door from the side rear.

This blow struck deadlier.

The airbag burst open in a flash. It pounded her face and chest hard.

The world spun wild. Harsh metal twists and glass shatters pierced her ears.

Blood trickled from her temple. It blurred her sight.

Through the spiderwebbed windshield, the sky and street she saw drowned in glaring crimson.