But even all that pain could not touch the hollow ache I was feeling now.
When he saw me cry, Duncan froze.
The fury in his eyes faded, replaced by sorrow so thick it seemed to swallow him. He collapsed to his knees before me, guilt etched on his face, and his voice trembled.
Yet the words he forced out felt like ice needles, pricking every soft place inside me.
"Lauren… please. Let her go. I'm begging you," he pleaded, "She's carrying my child. I have to protect her."
How ridiculous.
He could stand there and watch me terminate a six-month pregnancy without batting an eye, but now he was pleading to save another woman.
In all the years I had known him, I had never once seen Duncan beg anyone. He never shed a tear, not once. Even when the bullet had struck him between the eyes and he hovered on the edge of death, a faint smile had played in his mouth.
And yet now, for that woman, he knelt before me, weeping and begging for her life.
What right did she have? Why should I spare the woman who had taken everything from me?
I snapped.
My hand jerked up, and I plunged the blade into her shoulder. The steel went in, but she made no sound.
Instead, Shaina pulled herself free and threw herself into Duncan's arms.
"With you here, Duncan, I'm not afraid of anything," she sobbed. "Don't beg her for me, please! As long as I can be with you, I'd die without regret!"
Watching them cling to each other and weep, I knew then that Duncan and I were finished.
I rubbed my forehead and forced down the exhaustion clawing at me from the inside out.
Then I bent, picked up the divorce papers scattered across the floor, and handed them back to him.
"Duncan," I said, my voice cold as ice, "you're utterly repulsive!"
I glanced at the curve of the girl's belly and let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Go ahead and sign. Any later and that child of yours will be born before we're done."
My assistant, Finn Erickson, who had followed me for years, rushed forward, wanting to speak.
I raised a hand to stop him.
All these years, I had convinced myself that Duncan's condition was punishment, a retribution for my own sins. I had dulled every edge in me in the name of peace. He had grown used to my lowered eyes and silence; maybe he had even forgotten who I used to be.
I looked into his bloodshot eyes and gave a small, gentle smile. "I'll step aside. And I wish you two a long, happy life together."
Whether they would live long enough to reach that future was another matter entirely.
What I did not expect was that Duncan would not sign. Instead, he tore the papers into pieces.
"I won't divorce you," he said. "What I owe you… I'll pay it back slowly."
He moved to shield Shaina behind him, his gaze wary and guarded.
"But right now, I have to protect Shaina," Duncan added. "I won't give you another chance to hurt her."
From our school uniforms to wedding gowns, we navigated a decade together, weathering every storm.
Now, however, I had transformed into the monster he feared. The very thing he wanted to keep out of his life.
His guardedness cut me like a blade and shredded what little dignity I had left.
I reached beneath the couch and drew the 9 mm pistol I had hidden there. I aimed it straight at the center of his brow.
My fingertip brushed the ugly scar on my own belly, and I laughed until it hurt to breathe.
"You want to repay me? With what?" I asked. "You don't seriously think I'd keep someone as dirty as you by my side… do you?"
The men behind him reacted, drawing their guns in unison.
In one motion, every barrel was aimed at me.
In that tense, loaded moment, Shaina found a sliver of courage.
She stumbled forward from behind him and, fueled by bravado or desperation, grabbed my gun and pressed the barrel to her own forehead.
"If you're mad, Lauren… then just shoot me!" she shouted. "Don't take it out on Duncan. He's just trying to protect me because he loves me. What's so wrong with that?"
