Chapter 2

I looked through the window as snow fell harder outside, covering the city in white.

“I used to think I owed the Partridge family everything,” I said. “When I was an orphan, they paid for my education. They gave me a place to stay and helped me build a life.”

I paused before continuing. “Then Caleb got into that fire accident.”

He'd been trapped inside the burning vehicle after rushing out because Trixa had called him. By the time they found him, half of his body had suffered severe burns. The doctors weren't sure he'd survive, much less recover enough to live normally again.

“The Partridge patriarch asked me to marry him and take care of him. I agreed because I wanted to repay what their family had done for me.”

I closed my eyes.

“I stayed beside Caleb for three years and went with him every surgeries.”

I still remembered the day he finally stood up.

Sunlight had poured through the windows, and Caleb had wrapped his arms around me, crying like a child. “Jasmine, you're the only woman I want for the rest of my life.”

Back then, I believed him.

After that, Caleb really did change. He stopped running around every night with his mafia brothers. He'd wait for me after my shifts and awkwardly try to cook dinner. At night, he'd pull me against his chest while we watched whatever boring show happened to be on TV.

For a while, I thought I'd finally gotten the life I'd always wanted. I thought the man who'd once treated love like a game had finally chosen me.

Then eight months passed.

Trixa called.

And Caleb went running back.

After that, she kept crossing every line she could find because she knew he'd protect her. She'd show up at our home late at night, and Caleb would always make excuses for her and let her stay. Once, he came home with a lipstick stain on his collar and acted as if I was supposed to believe nothing had happened.

Another time, Trixa deliberately sat beside him during a family dinner, constantly touching his arm and laughing at everything he said just to provoke me.

And Caleb never really stopped her.

Not once.

I opened my eyes.

Whatever warmth I'd once had for him was gone.

“I've already repaid the Partridge family's kindness,” I told my father. “I stayed with Caleb when he needed me. I took care of him until he could stand on his own again... Now that debt is paid. I don't owe that family anything anymore.”

My father went quiet.

Then I heard his voice shake with relief. “Okay, sweetheart. Okay. Don't worry about anything else. Dad will handle it. I'll get the divorce moving and bring you home within a month. You're my daughter, Jasmine. This time, nobody's taking you away from us.”

I looked down at my wedding ring.

For years, I'd thought it was a promise. Now it was just something I needed to take off.

After I ended the call with my father, my phone buzzed again. It was Caleb.

I opened the message.

“I just spoke to your dean. I resigned from your ER position for you.”

Another message came right after it.

“Since you're being so reasonable tonight, take Trixa home and look after her. That's what you'll do from now on.”

I stared at the screen for several seconds before typing one word.

“Sure.”

That was all.

I knew exactly what Caleb was doing. He hated how calm I'd been at the hospital. He'd expected me to scream, cry, and make a scene. He wanted the old Jasmine back, the wife who'd lose her mind whenever Trixa came near him. He wanted to see me break, and maybe he wanted to feel powerful knowing he could still control my emotions with a few cruel words.

But I wasn't giving him that anymore.

What was the point?

I'd already decided to leave.

...

When I got back to the villa, I pushed open the front door and immediately saw Trixa. She was wrapped in a bathrobe, her wet hair hanging over her shoulders as she walked out of the master bedroom. The second she saw me, a smug smile spread across her face.

“Oh, you're back.” She glanced toward the bedroom and added, “Caleb's taking a shower. You can sit there and wait.”

She pointed at the sofa like she owned the place.

I didn't argue. I walked over and sat down.

A few minutes later, Caleb came out of the master bedroom. His hair was still wet, and he'd changed into a loose shirt and pants. He didn't even bother looking at me. He went straight to Trixa, slipping an arm around her waist as he picked up a towel.

“Why are you still wearing wet clothes?” he asked. “Come here. I'll take care of it.”

Trixa laughed and leaned against him. “Forget it. You're terrible at taking care of people. You'll probably hurt me again.”

Caleb chuckled. “Fuck, you weren't complaining earlier.”

Trixa gave him a playful shove. He laughed, then finally looked toward me.

His eyes landed on me sitting quietly on the sofa.

I knew that look.

He was waiting.

Waiting for me to explode.

Instead, he picked up the bottle of liquor sitting on the table and tossed it toward me.

“Since you're free now, pour Trixa a drink and cook something for her. After that, give her a foot massage. She's still recovering.”

The bottle landed beside my hand.

I looked at it, then at him. “Okay.”

His brows lifted slightly.

That wasn't the reaction he wanted.

I opened the bottle, poured myself a drink, and took a slow sip.

Caleb frowned. “You're drinking now?”

“Apparently.”

I took another sip.

Trixa sat down beside him, looking far too pleased. “Jasmine, I'm not trying to make things difficult for you. I'm still feeling uncomfortable, so if you could make something light for me...”

“Sure.” I stood up. “I'll cook.”

I walked toward the kitchen, but Caleb's voice stopped me.

“Don't think you're getting away with this.”

I turned around. He stared at me, his expression dark. “You've been acting strange all night. What's with the fucking attitude?”

“I'm tired.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

He studied my face, and I could tell he was getting irritated because he couldn't find the reaction he wanted.

I picked up my glass again. “Anything else?”

His jaw clenched. “No.”

“Then I'll go cook.”

I turned away before he could say anything else.

While I prepared the food, I could hear them talking in the living room. Trixa laughed, and Caleb's voice followed. It used to hurt.

Tonight, it sounded like noise.

After cooking, I brought the food over and placed it in front of Trixa. “Done.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

I nodded, then sat down and drank another glass.

A while later, Trixa stretched her legs toward me. “My feet are still sore.”

I looked at them, then at Caleb. He leaned back on the sofa, watching me.

He was waiting for me to refuse.

Instead, I put my glass down. “Sure.”

Trixa pointed to her ankle. “There.”

I started massaging her foot.

Caleb watched silently.

I could practically hear the disappointment in his silence.