Aubrey POV:
The pale gray light of early morning crept through the slats of the blinds. My eyes were raw, bloodshot, and completely dry. I hadn't slept a single second.
Beside me, Kieran was dead to the world, letting out a soft, rhythmic snore.
I sat up without making a sound. My eyes locked onto the black phone sitting on his nightstand.
I held my breath and reached across the mattress. My fingertips were ice cold when they brushed the metal casing. I lifted it carefully.
I tapped the screen. The keypad appeared, demanding a six-digit passcode.
I typed in his birthdate. The screen shook. *Incorrect.*
I gritted my teeth. I typed in the date of our first anniversary. The day he had bought me a cheap silver necklace and promised me forever.
*Click.*
The home screen opened. His arrogance was staggering. He hadn't even bothered to change the password that tied us together, because he never believed I would dare to check.
I tapped the messaging app and typed *Carolina* into the search bar.
A massive wall of text loaded. The chat history stretched back six entire months.
I scrolled up, my chest tight. I saw digital receipts for a diamond tennis bracelet. I saw a screenshot of a three-person group chat with Jeanie, discussing how to make me miserable enough to pack my bags and leave on my own.
I reached into my sweatpants pocket and pulled out my old, cracked phone. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold it steady.
I opened the camera app. I hovered it over his screen, snapping clear, focused photos of every damning conversation and every bank transfer.
Kieran suddenly groaned. He rolled over, his heavy arm flopping blindly onto the empty space where I had been lying just minutes ago.
My heart stopped beating. I instantly pressed the power button on his phone, plunging the screen into darkness. Every muscle in my body went rigid.
Kieran mumbled something incoherent into his pillow and sank back into a deep sleep.
I exhaled a shaky breath. I placed his phone back on the exact spot on the nightstand, matching the angle perfectly.
I slid off the mattress, padded silently out of the master bedroom, and retreated to my junk room.
The moment the door clicked shut, I pressed my back against the cheap wood and gasped for air, like I had just broken the surface of a freezing ocean.
I opened my photo gallery. I stared at the evidence of my humiliation. The sharp pain in my chest slowly hardened into something cold and metallic.
I walked to the darkest corner of the room. I grabbed the edge of a dust-covered cardboard box and dragged it out.
I ripped the old packing tape off with my bare hands. Inside lay a stack of heavy, thick textbooks.
They were my CPA exam prep materials. Three years ago, I was the top student in my business program. I gave it all up to manage Kieran's household when he broke his leg. I broke my own wings to build his nest.
I reached down and wiped the thick layer of dust off the top cover. The rough texture of the paper grounded me.
I flipped open the first page. The margins were filled with my dense, meticulous handwritten notes on corporate tax law.
A spark flared in my hollow chest. The ambition I had buried alive was suddenly breathing again.
I grabbed a wet wipe and cleaned every single book. I stacked them neatly on my wobbly folding table.
I opened my laptop. I typed in the URL for the official CPA examination board.
I stared at the registration deadline blinking on the screen. I moved the cursor over the submit button and pressed down hard.
"It is time to get my life back."
