Chapter 2

“Seraphina, are you insane? I’ve been explaining this for ages, can you just stop making a scene?”

“No need to say anything else. Let’s get a divorce.”

I closed my eyes, my voice flat.

“Why are you so jealous again? I told you, we’re just colleagues. During a hurricane, I couldn’t just leave a young girl to work in the rain, could I?”

“The ocean isn't going anywhere, but what if she gets sick from the rain?”

He seemed to forget that I was the one who went to meet him.

And now I was trapped on an isolated road, stranded by the hurricane.

Icy rain, driven by the hurricane, lashed furiously against my face. I cut him off, seething.

“I’m still stuck on Oceanfront Road, and the water’s up to my ankles.”

Hearing I was in danger, Damian’s voice took on a hint of urgency: “Wait for me, I’m coming to get you right away.”

What should have been a thirty-minute drive, Damian made in twenty.

He got out, looking disheveled from the rush. The moment he saw me, his eyes filled with concern and worry. He strode forward, scooped up my soaking wet body, and started walking towards his car.

But even in the twelve-grade wind, the cheap perfume scent clinging to his clothes wouldn't dissipate.

It stung my nostrils, wave after wave.

I was about to speak, but then Damian’s phone rang. It was Chloe’s special ringtone.

He almost instinctively dropped me, answering the call.

“Oh, Damian, I think I have a cold. My head feels so dizzy.”

Damian’s brows furrowed, his eyes filled with worry and concern. He fumbled frantically in his pockets for the car keys.

Then he cooed softly to Chloe, a tenderness in his voice I’d never heard: “Sweetheart, wait for me at home, I’ll take you to the hospital.”

The arm that had been holding me suddenly released, and I fell back into the mud with a splash.

He opened the car door, got in, and without a backward glance, urged me: “Get in, quick!”

Gritting my teeth against the searing pain, I struggled to my feet. Just as I was about to get in, the car door slammed shut automatically, catching my clothes.

My heart clenched. I immediately pounded on the door, but Damian, desperate to reach Chloe, had completely forgotten I even existed.

As the car started, I lost my footing and fell heavily to the ground.

The vehicle dragged me, speeding off in the rain.

Mud lashed at me like knives, tearing at my skin.

The scenery blurred past, and it felt like my insides were being ripped out.

The soul-piercing agony made me howl in torment.

I was dragged for hundreds of feet until my clothes ripped, and I collapsed in the mud. Looking down, the flesh and blood on my legs mixed with the muddy water, and the pain was so intense I lost consciousness.

I lay there on the ground, helpless and desperate, my last shred of illusion about Damian shattered.

Later, a kind stranger who passed by drove me home.

As soon as I got home, I saw Chloe @everyone in the SnapChat group:

“My Ins post today was just a joke, I hope no one misunderstood. Thank you, Mr. Thorne, for not holding it against me and rushing to take me to the hospital.”

This wasn't an explanation; it was a blatant brag.

I put my phone down and disinfected my profusely bleeding wounds. Tears streamed down my face, hot and stinging amidst the agonizing pain.

“Seraphina, where did you run off to?”

Footsteps approached, and Damian walked into the room, his voice accusatory, bringing with him the damp, chilling air.

Seeing my bloodied, mangled wounds, his impending lecture died in his throat. He frowned.

“How did you get yourself into such a state?”

He stepped forward, about to inspect my wounds.

I turned away, avoiding him, and sneered, “You really don't know how I ended up like this?”

Who invited me to watch the ocean during a hurricane? Who left me stranded by the sea for Chloe? And who dragged me for hundreds of feet with their car?!

Damian nervously touched his nose, yet still adopted a self-righteous, 'I've done nothing wrong' stance:

“I told you, Chloe and I are completely innocent. I just helped her because I felt sorry for a struggling small-town girl trying to make it in the city. If you don't believe me, there’s nothing I can do!”

Seeing I didn't speak, his voice grew colder, and he questioned me as if I were the one in the wrong:

“Seraphina, do you have to pick a fight with me today? And after all I did, preparing an anniversary gift for you.”

He said, and with an angry huff, aggressively shoved a soaking wet gift box towards me.

The box knocked over the iodine on the table, soaking my freshly bandaged wound.

The flood of suppressed hurt and indignation finally broke. I swung the box with all my might, smashing it into Damian's face:

“I don't want your damn gifts!”

Every time he messed up, he'd buy me a gift to placate me, but I later found out they were always Chloe's discards.

Damian's temple was gashed, and a trickle of blood immediately appeared. He cried out in pain, clutching his eye.

I slapped the divorce papers onto the table:

“It’s past midnight. Our anniversary is over.”

“Our marriage is done.”