### Chapter 2
A flicker of guilt crossed Stuart's eyes.
"Ellie's flower shop got hit with some trouble, so I took her out to get some air. How was I supposed to know she'd drink too much—"
He cleared his throat twice. "Enough. Next checkup, I promise I'll take our son myself."
But Stuart, you'll never get the chance to take him anywhere again.
The biting wind poured in over the windowsill. I stood facing the night air, and every word came out soaked in blood.
"No need. Bradley had a heart attack. He's dead!"
Shock flashed across his face and was gone.
Then his expression turned ugly, and he stared at me, eyes full of blame.
"Seraphina, I already told you that kiss didn't mean anything. Are you really so jealous you'd curse your own son?"
"I went through every line of his results at the last checkup. His condition is well under control. I've poured everything I have into this family, and all you do is throw tantrums. What kind of example is that for the child?"
Watching him stand there so sure of himself, I lost any desire to say another word to him.
I said it one word at a time. "Then let's divorce."
Stuart froze, then let out a scornful laugh.
"You're thirty years old and still this emotional, this reckless. No job, no income. You think you could even feed yourself without me?" Contempt filled his eyes. Then he glanced down and caught the corner of the cremation certificate sticking out of my bag.
"Cremation? Who's being cremated?"
He frowned, puzzled, and reached to pull it out. A burst of cheerful music chimed at his waist.
It was the ringtone he'd set just for Ellie, so she could always reach him first, no matter what.
Ellie was crying, all fragile.
"Stuart, some thugs smashed up the flower shop. I'm so scared—"
His pupils shrank. "Don't be scared. I'm coming right now."
"Put Bradley to bed yourself."
He grabbed his coat and strode out, never noticing that there was no sign of his son in the house, never noticing that the study he always kept locked had been left open.
Something pulled me inside, and the thing in the corner stabbed at my eyes.
Seven years ago, I was the most promising newcomer at the law firm, and I took on a difficult case.
The defendant was the most powerful crime syndicate in the area. To get back at me, they drove my family's company into bankruptcy, and my father, cornered by his creditors with nowhere to turn, jumped to his death.
I went alone to gather evidence of their crimes, wanting justice for my father.
When they drugged me and dragged me onto a yacht, it was Stuart, out fishing with friends, who saved me.
He wiped away my tears and the blood, one gentle stroke at a time. "Don't worry. That crowd comes to our hospital whenever they get hurt. I'll quietly help you gather the evidence."
Only later did I learn he was the youngest medical professor in the city, and the heir to the Weiss Group.
So many people longed to attach themselves to this powerful, brilliant doctor and never could, yet he was the one who reached out to me.
Six months later, with Stuart's help, I won the case, sent them all to prison, and avenged my father.
Through every night the nightmares came, he was the one beside me, stroking my back to soothe me.
To marry me, he broke with the Weiss family, and announced his love for me to the whole world.
Then the second year came, our son was born, and Stuart looked at me, torn.
"Baby, I know becoming a great lawyer is your dream."
"But I can't stand the thought of someone else raising our son. Could you quit and raise Bradley yourself? I promise I'll be good to you and our boy for the rest of my life."
I loved him so deeply that I gave up my own future with all my heart.
On so many sleepless nights, I would secretly run my fingers over my bar license.
When Stuart got up in the night and saw, he was overcome with guilt, holding me and promising over and over that he would never let me down.
But now my precious bar license was being used to prop up a flowerpot.
A safe sat in the corner. I tried Ellie's birthday.
The door opened. A pile of things slid out.
Inside a thick envelope were photos of the two of them, everywhere—embracing on a Hawaii beach, nestled together watching penguins in Antarctica, looking at the snow in the Rocky Mountains—
All the places I'd once wished to go with him.
He always said he was busy.
Yet he made it happen for someone else.
There was more—a thick stack of receipts: him funding Ellie's high-end apartment in the city center, setting up her flower shop, all of it.
I took out my phone and photographed every piece of it.
