The moment the complaint left Brittany’s mouth, Bryce’s expression changed. He lunged forward and shoved Tiffany aside without hesitation.
Caught completely off guard, Tiffany stumbled backward. Her injured arm slammed into the edge of the table, sending a sharp, blinding pain through her body. Her vision darkened for a moment.
She was just trying to steady herself when a sudden force closed in on her.
A sharp crack of skin against skin startled the room.
A brutal slap landed hard across her face.
The blow rendered her speechless.
“Tiffany! You vicious woman!” Bryce roared, his face twisted with fury. “What did Brittany ever do to you?! How could you use that much force? Were you trying to cripple her?!”
Their son rushed straight to his aunt’s side. He didn’t spare her mom so much as a glance—no concern for her contorted, pain-stricken face, only accusation in his voice.
“Jeez, Mom, you’re terrifying! What did Aunt Brittany ever do to you? If you’re mad, take it out on us! How could you do something like this to her? Do you even have a heart?!”
Each word pierced her like a needle, one after another, sinking into what little was left of her heart.
She watched as her own husband carefully lifted her sister, who cried into his arms.
Once, long ago, when Tiffany had been sick with a fever, he had held her the same way. It’s just that the memory felt distant now—like something from another lifetime.
The three moved quickly—slipping on shoes, grabbing the car keys, rushing out the door—leaving her alone behind them.
Anyone who had bothered to look would have noticed the blood seeping through the bandage on her arm again.
But no one did. Bryce only threw one warning over his shoulder.
“If anything happens to Brittany’s foot, Tiffany, I swear I won’t let this go.”
With that, the door was slammed shut with enough force to make the walls tremble.
Tiffany stayed where the blow had made her fall, motionless.
For three long decades, she had dulled every bright edge of herself for him. She’d locked away youthful dresses and high heels in dusty closets and learned how to be a “good” full-time wife.
She’d stayed up late teaching herself massage, just so that when he came home, she could smooth the tension from his brow.
She memorized his preferences, kept the apartment running, raised their son, and worked tirelessly to maintain the image of a perfect family.
And yet, in their eyes, none of it ever mattered.
‘Look at you, Tiffany,’ she thought to herself. ‘This… is the life you chose. That’s the man you loved and tolerated for thirty years. That’s the son you raised with everything you had.’
She was lost in her regrets when her phone chimed softly. It was a message from Barron.
[The divorce agreement is ready. The apartment has been listed for sale.]
Reading his updates, Tiffany left the apartment, printed the papers, and signed her name. When she saw that the wound on her hand had split open again, she decided to return to the hospital to have it treated properly.
The doctor frowned at the reopened injury and repeated the warning—no using strength, absolutely no strain.
Tiffany nodded automatically, barely hearing a word.
Walking out of the consultation room, she just wanted to leave the hospital as quickly as possible.
But the universe seemed determined to humiliate her further when she was at her most miserable.
As she passed another hospital room, hushed voices drifted out—voices she recognized instantly. That stopped her in her tracks.
“Hey, Bryce, let go of me. Flynn went to get the CT scans. He’ll be back any minute. If someone sees us like this, it won’t look right.”
Then came Bryce’s low, soothing reply.
“Don’t move. The doctor’s treating it. If it hurts, hold on to me. Be good, Brittany. Just bear with it; it’ll be over soon.”
Tiffany stood frozen outside the door. Only a narrow crack separated them, yet it felt like an unbridgeable distance.
Inside, Brittany leaned against the hospital bed. Her left ankle was supported in the doctor’s hands as ointment was applied.
Bryce held her close, almost enclosing her in his arms. She looked frightened, clinging tightly to his waist.
That sight of them threatened a violent wave of nausea in Tiffany. She had to quickly clamp a hand over her mouth.
