Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Everyone knew I’d been in love with Julian Ashford for years.

Back when the Whitmores still had money, I used to follow him everywhere. Julian, Julian, Julian. I was so sure that one day I’d be his wife.

Then Whitmore Holdings went under, buried in debt, and my parents stepped off the roof of their own office building. The only reason I survived at all was that Eleanor took me in.

I knew I had no right to dream about marrying Julian anymore. So I locked every bit of that love away.

On her medium’s advice, Eleanor arranged for me to marry Julian’s older brother, Edward, who was gravely ill. I’d “bring the family luck,” she said. I said yes.

The night before the wedding, Serena, who was Julian’s fiancée at the time, brought me a cup of hot tea.

I drank it.

The next morning, I was found in bed with Julian.

Serena sobbed like her heart had been ripped out. To bury the scandal, Eleanor had no choice but to swap the engagements: Serena married Edward and became the heir’s wife. I married Julian.

From that day on, everyone knew me as the ungrateful schemer, the homewrecker who stole another woman’s fiancé.

I explained, over and over, that I didn’t know anything.

No one believed me. Except Julian.

He would hold me and say it again and again. “Of course I know. My Clara would never do something like that. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

He was so tender with me back then. It really seemed like he’d accepted me as his wife.

I fell for it.

I thought it was all a mistake that somehow turned out exactly right.

That he loved me too.

If my children hadn’t been taken from me one by one, I’d probably have stayed asleep inside that dream forever.

But even awake, even knowing the truth, hearing him say it out loud turned me cold from head to toe.

“You never… believed me? Not once?”

He pressed his lips together. For a second, he almost looked sorry. “That’s not what I meant…”

Before he could finish, Serena called again.

“Julian, I had a nightmare. Will you come stay with me for a bit?”

His expression changed. He was out the door in seconds, and he didn’t look at me again.

I sat on the bed for a long time. When I finally lifted a hand to wipe my eyes, my fingers came away dry.

So that’s what happens when the pain gets bad enough. You can’t even cry.

Across the grounds, only one window in the main house was still lit. Serena’s room. That was where Julian was right now.

Seven years. And for the first time, I didn’t sit there watching that window, waiting for him to come back.

I scrolled to a number I hadn’t called in a long time. Mr. Benson, my father’s attorney. After the Whitmores fell, he was the only one who still sent me a Christmas card every year.

Mr. Benson, I’m sorry to bother you so late. I need you to draw up divorce papers.

The moment it said Delivered, something that had been sitting on my chest for seven years finally shifted, just a little.

…

That night, I dreamed about Pinecrest again.

“Don’t hit me… it hurts… Mom…”

A hand settled on my waist. I jerked awake, threw myself to the edge of the bed, and retched.

I was back in that room. Pinned to the floor. Forced to lick up the food I’d knocked over.

Disgusting. So disgusting.

Julian’s face iced over. “What is that supposed to mean? I touch you and it makes you sick?”

It took me a long time to stop heaving. “No… I was just remembering Pinecrest…”

“I gave instructions. No one there would dare lay a finger on you. You were there to be treated for postpartum depression. Who is this performance for?”

So all of that abuse had been treatment.

I laughed under my breath. “I’m sorry. I’m being dramatic.”

That threw him. I’d always insisted I’m telling the truth. This time I’d apologized, and he didn’t know what to say.

In the end, all he gave me was, “As long as you know it. Tomorrow’s Serena’s birthday. Use it to make a real apology. She’s raising your children like they’re her own. Show some gratitude.”

He lay down next to me, one arm draped loosely over my waist. “Clara, stop this. Just be good, and I’ll be good to you.”

I didn’t answer.

The next day, the Ashford estate filled with guests.

Edward had been bedridden for years. The one who really held the reins was Julian, and Julian protected Serena. The guests came wearing their most ingratiating smiles, and the gifts piled up to the ceiling.

None of them could compete with what Julian gave her.

Not jewelry. Not a painting. The signet ring engraved with the Ashford crest, along with a full power of attorney. From that day on, Serena could give orders to anyone in the family and sign any document in his name.

Serena took the ring, flushed with excitement. Down below, the guests whispered.

“Weren’t they engaged once? Guess the flame never went out.”

“His wife isn’t upset?”

“Clara? Please. A woman who drugged her way into this family doesn’t get a say.”

I sat in a corner, staring in Julian’s direction without really seeing him.

When we were first married, Eleanor had wanted me to learn how to manage the household. Julian said he didn’t want me working that hard, and handed all of it to Serena instead.

The best way to love someone is to put power in her hands. He’d known that better than anyone.

My thoughts were still a mess when a thin, wiry man burst out of the crowd, a knife in his hand, lunging for Serena. “You bitch! You destroyed my family! You’re going to pay for it!”

“Serena!” Julian’s pupils shrank to pinpoints.

The next thing I knew, something slammed into me with enormous force. I pitched forward and landed squarely between Serena and the blade.

I looked back, unable to believe it.

The one who’d shoved me was Julian.

The knife came down and sank into my chest.

My vision went dark. Through the fog, I saw him rush toward me, gather me into his arms.

With everything I had left, I forced out one word.

“Why…”