In that split second, Melvin threw his arms around Jeanette and shoved Beth away with his free hand.
Beth slammed into the heavy metal rig. Sharp edges drove into her back and left arm, and pain tore through her entire body.
She heard her own bones break.
She hit the ground hard, the lighting rig pinning her down, and she couldn't move. Melvin already had Jeanette cradled against his chest, backing them both to safety.
Jeanette's ankle had barely grazed the edge of the rig, but her eyes were already brimming with tears. "Attorney Henson, my foot hurts so much. Do you think it might be broken?"
Melvin crouched down and cradled her foot in both hands, his face tight with worry. "Don't be scared. I'm here. Can you stand?"
Jeanette tried to put weight on it and sucked in a sharp breath, tears rolling down her cheeks. "It hurts so much..."
Without another word, Melvin scooped her up into his arms.
Beth lay in a spreading pool of her own blood, the rig crushing her back. Every breath was agony. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but all that left her throat was a faint, broken moan.
Melvin carried Jeanette two steps, then finally glanced back. His eyes held nothing but blame and disgust.
His voice came out cold enough to freeze:
"Beth, look at what you've done. If you hadn't lost your mind and charged up on stage, would any of this have happened? If Jeanette's foot is really injured, can you even begin to take responsibility for that?"
"I am so disappointed in you. A perfectly good anniversary gala, ruined. You've humiliated the entire Cox family tonight. If your father saw this, I can't imagine how furious he'd be. Can't you just be still for one single day? Do you have to drag everyone around you into your chaos?"
Beth wanted to speak. She wanted to tell him she'd gone up on stage because Jeanette had played that video to humiliate her, that she hadn't knocked the rig over.
She wanted to tell him, I'm in so much pain. I think my bones are broken. Can you please call me an ambulance.
But she couldn't get a single word out.
Her lips moved. Her throat felt sealed shut. All she could manage were thin, threadlike gasps.
Melvin stared down at her, unmoved, as though she were putting on an act. Jeanette clutched his collar and whispered, "Attorney Henson, doesn't Mrs. Henson look seriously hurt? Shouldn't we call an ambulance?"
"She got knocked around a little. She'll be fine," Melvin said. "You're the one we need to worry about. That foot can't wait."
He turned and walked away without a second of hesitation, Jeanette still in his arms.
Beth lay on the ground and watched his back grow smaller and smaller until it vanished through the ballroom doors.
People rushed over. Someone was dialing 911. Before consciousness slipped away, a memory surfaced from years ago.
She and Melvin had just gotten together. She'd been walking through the living room and bumped her shin on the coffee table. The bruise was tiny, no bigger than a fingernail.
Melvin's face had gone white. He crouched down and touched the bruise so gently, his brow knotted with worry. "How could you be so careless? Does it hurt?"
She told him it didn't. He picked her up anyway and carried her to the hospital. They took X-rays. The doctor said it was nothing, and only then did he relax even slightly.
Back home, he followed her everywhere, step for step. When she needed the bathroom, he carried her there and waited outside the door, knocking every ten seconds: "Beth, are you done yet? Let me carry you out."
She'd laughed. "I'm not an invalid."
He'd said, "When it comes to you, not even a scratch is acceptable."
Back then, she'd believed she was the luckiest woman alive. Now she lay on the floor in a pool of her own blood, and he had walked away carrying another woman without even calling her an ambulance.
She closed her eyes, and the darkness swallowed everything.
When she woke again, Beth was in a hospital bed, encased in plaster, pain radiating from everywhere at once.
Melvin sat in the chair beside her, holding her hand. He hadn't shaved. The skin beneath his eyes was bruised with exhaustion.
The moment he saw her open her eyes, he shot to his feet, relief flooding his face. "Beth, you're finally awake? You were unconscious for two days. You scared me half to death."
He gestured toward the bedside. "Beth, I got you all kinds of gifts. I wanted them to be the first thing you saw when you woke up, so you'd feel a little better."
Beth turned her head. The nightstand was buried under a pile of things.
The newest Chanel bag. She used to buy one every season, but he hadn't given her one in over a year.
A Tiffany diamond necklace, limited edition. She'd lingered on it for a moment in a magazine once.
A full set of her favorite high-end skincare, the limited-run collection, arranged in a neat row.
And a large bouquet of white lisianthus, the same flowers from their wedding.
There was something ingratiating in his voice:
"Beth, don't worry. I flew in that top orthopedic specialist from Paris. He arrived last night and reviewed your scans this morning. He said your surgery went well and your recovery should be smooth."
Beth looked at the gifts. Then she looked at Melvin.
The specialist, the gifts, the flowers. He was making amends. The same way he always did.
"Beth, I owe you an apology for what happened that day."
His voice was soft, coaxing. "I panicked. I was so worried about Jeanette's foot that I assumed you were fine, and I didn't get to you in time. Don't hold it against me, okay?"
Beth pulled her hand free.
Melvin sighed. "I already had someone look into it. The rig was tripped by a power cable. It wasn't your fault. And I was wrong to say those things in front of everyone. So we're even now, aren't we?"
A bitter laugh flickered through Beth's mind. Even?
Jeanette had broadcast that humiliating video in front of the entire crowd. Melvin had shoved her into a collapsing lighting rig to protect Jeanette, then left her half-dead on the floor. And now one sentence was supposed to make them even?
Beth closed her eyes. She didn't want to look at him. Everything hurt, and she didn't have the energy for a single word more.
Melvin took her silence for fatigue. He tucked the blanket around her. "Get some rest. I'll be right here."
The words had barely left his mouth when his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and picked up immediately:
"Jeanette? What's wrong? Your foot's hurting again? What did the doctor say? Don't cry. I'm on my way."
He hung up and stood, pulling on his jacket:
"Beth, Jeanette says her foot is really hurting. I'm going to go check on her. I'll be back soon."
Beth didn't open her eyes. She didn't answer.
Melvin paused at the door and looked back at her. He seemed about to say something, but in the end said nothing, and left.
Beth lay alone in the empty hospital room, staring at the pile of expensive gifts and the white lisianthus on the nightstand.
She laughed. He actually thought she cared about any of this.
When had Beth Cox, heiress to the Cox Group, ever cared about things? What she'd cared about, the only thing she'd ever cared about, was him.
Did he really believe it was still the same as before? That a few sweet words and some gifts could make her smile through her tears and forgive him?
Not anymore. The moment the divorce was finalized and her visa came through, she would disappear from his life without a backward glance.
She reached out, pulled the lisianthus from the vase, and dropped them into the trash.
The gifts she gave away to the nurses looking after her, every last one.
The nurses crowded together, buzzing with delight:
"Mrs. Henson, Mr. Henson spoils you rotten! Look at all the things he got you!"
"Mrs. Henson is so lucky. I wish I had a husband that good!"
Beth smiled, a thin, self-mocking curve. A good husband. The words landed in her ears now as nothing more than a cruel joke.
The day she was discharged, Melvin didn't come. Beth called a car herself. As it neared the gated community, she looked up at the sky full of stars and decided to get out and walk.
She strolled alone down the tree-lined path, letting the cool night breeze wash over her, and for the first time in a while, something in her chest loosened.
Then she heard someone behind her. Before she could turn, a needle pierced the side of her neck, and something ice-cold flooded into her veins.
A man's voice cackled behind her. "Finally. Payback time."
