Chapter 4

Hazel POV:

Just then, the front door opened and Jackson strode out, his phone pressed to his ear. He saw the scene-Colton, Campbell, the police car I was still sitting in-and his face hardened into a thunderous scowl.

"What the hell, Hazel?" he barked into the phone, clearly not to his business associate. "You can't handle one thing? I leave you for five minutes and my son gets arrested?"

Tiffany, still in the back seat, chose that moment to pipe up. "It wasn't his fault, Mr. McKee. This guy was saying horrible things about Campbell."

"I wish Campbell was my mom," she sighed dramatically. "She would have been there. She always knows what to do." The implication hung in the air, thick and poisonous: Unlike you.

Every eye was on me. Jackson' s, filled with fury. Colton' s, with shame and resentment. Campbell' s, with triumphant pity. Tiffany' s, with smug contempt. I was the defendant in a trial where the verdict had already been decided.

The invisible hand around my heart squeezed tighter, but no tears came. There was nothing left to cry.

Jackson ended his call and stalked over to the car. "Get out, Hazel. Go inside." He didn't look at me; he looked past me, as if I were a piece of furniture. "Campbell and I will handle this."

He was dismissing me. From my own family. From my own son' s life.

But I didn't move. Instead, I reached into my purse and pulled out a sheaf of papers. I held them out to him.

It was the divorce agreement. My signature was already at the bottom, a crisp, clean stroke of ink.

Jackson stared at the papers, then at my face, a flicker of genuine shock finally breaking through his arrogant facade. "What is this?"

"I signed it," I said, my voice eerily calm.

He remembered the conversation from two weeks ago. I could see it in his eyes. He had dismissed it then, just as he had dismissed me for years. He truly believed I was incapable of action. For seventeen years, I had been the perfect, accommodating wife. I had yielded on every front, from my career to my friendships to the way I decorated our home. I had made myself small to make him feel big.

"I get the house," I said, my voice level. "And I get full custody of Colton."

His face, already pale, turned ashen. A vein pulsed in his temple. "You..."

Before he could finish, a dramatic gasp came from behind him. Campbell had rushed to his side, her eyes wide with feigned horror.

"Oh, Jackson," she whispered, her hand flying to her chest. "Is this because of me? Oh, Hazel, I am so, so sorry."

Jackson immediately turned his attention to her, his arm wrapping around her protectively. "It's not your fault, baby. She's just being hysterical."

He looked back at me, his lip curling. "She has these episodes sometimes."

Campbell leaned into him, her voice trembling. "We have to get Colton out of this mess. His school, his reputation..."

I was a background character in the drama of my own life. A "hysterical episode" to be managed.

Jackson sighed, a long-suffering sound meant to show Campbell how burdened he was. "Fine," he said, waving a dismissive hand at me. "We'll talk about this later. Go inside."

He was making a concession, not for me, but to appease Campbell, to show her he could manage his crazy wife so they could focus on the real issue: Colton.

"Hazel, please," Campbell said, her eyes pleading. "Think of Colton. Don't do this to him. Don't do this to us."

The "us" was a deliberate twist of the knife.

A wave of nausea rolled through me. I wanted to ask her, What about what you did to us? To me? But I didn't. The question would be pointless. They lived in a different reality, one where their desires were the only things that mattered.

I remembered Colton's face at the police station. The shame. The disgust. He didn't want me. He had made his choice.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

"I'm not going inside," I said, my voice low but unwavering. "I'm leaving. With or without the house. But you will not get custody of Colton."

Jackson stared at me, a slow, cold smile spreading across his face. He thought I was bluffing. "Are you sure about that, Hazel?"