Not long after Marco stepped out the door, I left the house.
I headed straight to the law office to print the divorce papers. Then, I finalized the cancellation of all my personal documents.
There was no point in going to the police now. The files were already in Marco’s hands. Without evidence, I didn’t stand a chance. Leaving was the only option I had left.
I took the divorce papers and made my way to Marco’s precinct.
But as I reached the building, I heard voices—his colleagues, chatting near the entrance.
“That woman—isn’t she Captain Fisher’s wife? She looks familiar… Wait, wasn’t she connected to that Vogel murder case five years ago?”
“Hey, you trying to get yourself sent on double shifts?” one of them whispered sharply. “Watch your mouth. The Captain’s made it crystal clear—she wasn’t the killer. You want him to snap again? He’s had more than one screaming match with the chief over that case.”
“Still… that outfit’s gotta cost six figures easy. I heard she just got back from overseas. Someone that rich—hard to believe she’d be capable of murder. And the way the Captain looks at her? If she was the killer, he would've arrested her on the spot.”
My nails dug into the flesh of my palms.
I stood frozen just outside the office door. Then I heard it—his voice. Familiar. Intimate.
“Has he been treating you well these years?” It was Marco.
A reply came with, light and teasing tone, “You know your brother. He found out I was flying back and insisted on buying me a private jet. I told him not to, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s been married for five years and still acts like a lovesick kid...”
Marco’s voice followed—low, tight, laced with longing he couldn’t quite hide.
“Good,” she said lightly. “That puts my mind at ease.”
“Marco, I really owe you for what you did back then. If it weren’t for you, I might’ve ended up in prison.”
“Then, about the big family dinner tomorrow… maybe I should skip it. I don’t want to upset Pauline. Every time she sees me, it just reminds her of Uncle and Aunt Vogel. I’m afraid she’ll start another fight with you…”
That was Amina. Always playing both sides. Taking everything she could—and still finding a way to act like the victim. Passive-aggressive. Sugar-laced venom.
I remembered the old case files Marco kept hidden away. I’d seen them—briefly, secretly—back when he was still investigating.
Amina was the only suspect.
On their wedding day, I stood up in front of everyone and called her out. Told the crowd she was the one who killed my parents. Demanded she be taken to the police.
But no one believed me. They called me bitter. Unreasonable. Hysterical.
Marco… back then, he was the only one who stepped in to shield me.
At the time, I thought he was my salvation. But now I saw it clearly. He was the one who had pushed me into the abyss.
Inside the office, I watched as Marco gave a quiet, bitter smile. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small ceramic figurine.
“I made this myself,” he said softly. “It’s not fancy like the things in stores, but… it’s from the heart. I heard you’re expecting. Consider it a little welcome gift—for the baby.”
Amina took the ceramic gift with a bright smile and a playful little shrug.
“So cute,” she said, sticking out her tongue like a mischievous kid.
Just then, my hand trembled against the doorframe, making a soft noise.
Marco looked up and, through the glass, spotted me standing just outside. His expression shifted instantly—panic creeping into his features.
“Polly? What are you doing here?” He stood so quickly you’d think I’d caught them in something.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he said quickly. “Amy just got back into town, she stopped by to catch up—and we were just talking about tomorrow night’s dinner.”
“Pauline,” Amina chimed in sweetly, rising to her feet. “It’s been so long.”
She wore a brand-new designer dress, the kind that screamed exclusivity. Perfectly styled, perfectly poised. Standing next to her, I felt like I’d walked in from another world—plain, tired, out of place.
I smiled and nodded, swallowing down the knot in my throat.
“It’s nothing,” I said gently. “Just passing by. Thought I’d drop in… but you’re busy. I’ll let you get back to it.”
I leave afterwards.
Marco assumed I was upset. So, he ran after me, catching up just outside the door.
“Polly, wait—don’t overthink it, please. Amy’s pregnant too, I just wanted to ask her for advice. I thought it might help me take better care of you.” He looked genuinely worried. Like he still believed I didn’t see through it all.
Somehow, that made me want to laugh. He had broken every rule he ever claimed to live by—Abandoned his ethics, his honor, his vows—All to protect Amina.
He’d sacrificed our entire marriage for her.
Since he got exactly what he wanted… Who was he still pretending for?
