Every time Shirley's artfully smiling face appeared in the news, hatred gnawed my heart raw, bleeding with every beat.
Time and again, it was Russell who pulled me back from the edge of collapse.
He would hold me close, murmuring softly, "Ivy, it's over. From now on, I'll protect you."
"Why are you so good to me?" I asked.
His deep eyes held an emotion I couldn't decipher.
"Because I've loved you for ten years."
I was too stunned to speak.
"From the first time I followed my father to your house and saw you painting at your easel," he said slowly. "It's just that back then, your eyes were only for Aaron."
Never had I imagined that this man—pursued by every woman in Kingsport—had kept me hidden in his heart all along.
Chaos seized my heart.
Six months after my release, on my twenty-eighth birthday, Russell proposed.
Kneeling on one knee, he held up a brilliant diamond ring, his gaze utterly sincere.
"Ivy, I know you can't fully trust anyone right now. But please, give me a chance. Let me spend the rest of my life healing you. Will you marry me?"
I looked at him—this man who had reached out when I was most broken and wretched.
I hesitated. Was someone as shattered as me worthy of him?
Seeing straight through my insecurity, he pulled me into his arms. "Ivy, you're not broken. You're a lost treasure, just waiting for someone to hold you again."
In that moment, I cried.
And I nodded.
I thought this was the beginning of my climb from the abyss, my chance for a new life.
I thought he was heaven-sent light, here to save me.
How utterly naive I was.
