Ruth's POV
For the first time, I didn't feel even a shred of gratitude for Shane's late-night vigil with no desire to look back.
I simply took the photo from his hand, signed my discharge papers quietly, and left.
Three days. That's all I had. Three days to find proof of Shane's infidelity.
After hours of thinking, it suddenly struck me like a lightning bolt.
The Ackerman Mansion's basement....
It had always been Shane's forbidden ground.
Even at our relationship's peak, he never allowed me access in here. When Mackenzie asserted her claim over him, she mocked me for not even having a key to the basement. That was enough for her; it proved that Shane's true love had never been me.
What exactly was down there?
I searched the house, rummaging through every room until I finally found a safe under Shane's bed. Its gunmetal surface gleamed, perfectly clean, indicating it had been used regularly.
I tried Mackenzie's birthday. Wrong.
Shane's birthday. Wrong again.
One more failed attempt, and the alarm would go off.
Sweat dripped down my face as I clenched my jaw. I took a leap of faith, entering our wedding anniversary.
The green light blinked, and with a sharp click, the lid sprang open.
Relief flooded over me, not only because the alarm hadn't gone off, but because, for the first time in what felt like ages, my heart was at peace.
Once, I would've blushed with joy, thinking he'd use my birthday as the password.
But that version of me, which was so desperate and naive, was long gone—tossed aside like the rabbit plushie I had thrown away.
I forced myself to believe it was just because Shane hadn't bothered to change it.
As I stepped into the basement, the scent of pear blossoms hit me, pungent and out of place.
Then, I saw a towering wall of photos over three meters high, completely covered with albums, as dense as ivy.
The sight shook me to my core.
From the time they were five, when Shane and Mackenzie first held hands and gazed at each other with budding affection...to the moment they parted, her plane carving a white trail across the sky.
Every meal shared. Every fleeting season. Every scrap of life between them.
Shane had always brushed me off, saying he hated taking pictures. Our only photograph together was the one on our marriage certificate.
But here, hidden away in this basement, was an arsenal of expensive cameras, each moment with her meticulously captured.
The truth hit me like a punch in the gut.
It had always been for Mackenzie.
From the first glance at five years old to their reunion at thirty, I had always been the outsider.
I snapped photos of every piece of evidence I could find and sent them to Atty. Montgomery, making sure to remind him to back everything up.
But just as I was about to turn around, a voice cut through the silence, sharp and full of malice.
"Do you see it now? You were nothing but Shane's plaything. Not even a proper stand-in for me."
I turned back, and it was Mackenzie.
I didn't bother to ask why she was here at three in the morning.
"I'm divorcing Shane," I said flatly, my voice steady. "You don't need to treat me like an enemy anymore."
Her sneer was immediate, her voice sharp with disdain. "Ruth, do you think I'm stupid? You talk about divorce, but this is just a pathetic ploy to win Shane back. One worthless photograph, and he actually kept vigil by your side for two whole nights. Ruth, you manipulative bitch!"
So that's it. Mackenzie had seen him at my bedside, and the thought of it made her rush here to lash out at me.
"Or maybe," I said quietly, "I never seduced him at all. Maybe he just doesn't love you that much."
Of course, he didn't love me either.
The only person Shane truly loved was himself and the illusion of being a devoted man.
However, Mackenzie interpreted my words as an insult.
Her face contorted with anger, and she struck me twice in the face.
"You slut! No matter how well you pretend to be obedient, one day you'll slip. And today, I'll make sure Shane sees your true face."
Before I could wipe the blood from my lips, she grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the photo wall.
It was perfectly timed, as if fate was pulling the strings.
The towering shelves shook and then collapsed with a deafening crash.
And suddenly, Shane burst into the basement. In one desperate leap, he threw himself forward, bracing his entire body against the falling wall.
He shoved me aside with brutal force.
The shelves fell onto his arm, and my recently healed hand splintered once more under the weight.
The pain was searing. It shot through me, every nerve screaming in agony.
Mackenzie's frantic cries filled the air.
"Ruth, if you had a problem, you could have come to me. Why try to destroy the albums that Shane treasures most? These albums are his very life!"
Shane's face twisted in rage, but he didn't spare me a glance.
And then, my heart sank.
I saw it. His collarbone was clean.
The tattoo of my name was gone.
"Ruth," he said coldly, his voice hollow, "you've truly disappointed me."
