Chapter 3
WREN
Stunned silence filled the room the moment the words spilled out of me, which left nothing but a gutted feeling that gripped my insides in a torturing manner.
James stared at me in shock, his mouth gaping wide at my sudden words. Obviously, he hadn't expected me to be the one demanding a divorce. After all, in everyone's eyes, marrying into the Davis family had been my social climb.
My family had once been prominent, but after my parents died, I was nothing but a helpless orphan. Grandfather Arthur Davis had extended his hand, and because of him, I'd survived to adulthood.
I would never forget that debt. But even gratitude had its limits.
"What the fuck did you just say?" James's voice thundered, dripping with that familiar condescension, his nostrils flaring with indignation. "Because I shielded Ava from some tea, you want a divorce? That's fucking ridiculous."
"I'm ridiculous? You're quite good at twisting things, aren't you? Care to tell me nothing is going on with you and Ava?" My voice cut sharply and coldly. Her name tasted bitter on my tongue—toxic, nauseating.
James's eye twitched with fury. Before he could respond, Ava inserted herself.
"Wren, what are you implying? I understand you're afraid of Mother's anger, but you can't just fabricate accusations against James and me like this. Benjamin just passed away. How could you... God, Benjamin, I should have gone with you..."
She dissolved into quiet sobs. Little Liam wrapped his arms around her immediately, shooting me a look of pure hatred.
Just like that, I was cast as the villain, bullying a grieving widow and her child. Ava and her son became objects of universal sympathy.
Even Abigail's gaze softened slightly toward them—but toward me, her eyes held no mercy.
She marched straight up and slapped me across the face. Hard. In front of everyone.
This time, James didn't even pretend to move. A cold smile played at the corner of his lips.
"You useless bitch," Abigail spat. "I will not allow you to defile Benjamin's funeral like this. Now get the hell upstairs. Stop embarrassing us in front of our guests. Leave my son in peace."
I clutched my stinging cheek, watching James's faint smirk. For the first time, I truly saw it—how much my husband enjoyed watching me be humiliated. Before, he'd always explained that his mother's nature meant the more he defended me, the worse she'd get. Endure it, he'd told me. That was the best way.
But after seeing how he'd shielded Ava, I finally understood how hollow his words had been. He'd never defended me—not to protect me, but because he simply didn't give a damn.
God. How stupid had I been not to see it?
I wiped my tears and looked around the room. The Davis family's furious faces. The guests' whispers and pointing. And yet—strangely—I felt no more shame. Only release.
The shame was never mine to carry.
"All of you think I'm the disgrace here?" My voice dripped with scorn. "Just wait. When the Davis family's dirty secrets finally crawl into the sunlight, you'll see—I was the cleanest one among you."
"Wren, stop this madness! You must have hit your head harder than we thought!" James cut me off sharply, as if terrified of what I might reveal next.
I met his gaze coldly, all expectation drained from my eyes. "Afraid I'll expose your dirty little secret?"
Before I could finish, James barked orders at his driver to take me home. "Mrs. Davis is exhausted. Get her home to rest."
Together, they dragged me out of the hall. Not one person intervened.
Right before they shoved me into the car, James leaned in, his eyes dark with warning.
"Wren. I'll write today off as you losing your goddamn mind. But the divorce? Not another word."
I was practically dragged home and locked inside the master bedroom. No matter how hard I pounded on the door, the driver and servants refused to open it.
I collapsed to my knees, adrenaline still churning in my veins. My gaze landed on the marriage bed where we'd lain together for three years—where James had systematically eroded my self-worth until I felt like nothing more than a hollow vessel for his biological needs, not a woman deserving of pleasure or intimacy.
Again, I felt it—the profound humiliation this marriage had brought me. It hadn't started today. It had been three years of small degradations, each one eating away at me.
Tonight, I simply couldn't swallow anymore. So I'd exploded.
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks again. I didn't know how long I lay there on the floor, but the darkness creeping into the room told me night had fallen.
Then—for the first time since I'd been brought home—the door opened.
That familiar scent wafted in. The one that had clung to James these past months. Before I could even see him clearly, my nose caught it, rendering all my careful reasoning irrelevant, making me feel like an irrational, hysterical woman.
"I didn't expect you back so soon," I said flatly.
His hardened expression melted into that familiar, practiced softness he'd worn for years. He lowered himself onto the floor beside me.
"It was never like that, Wren. You—"
"Let me guess. I'm overthinking things again?"
James's eyes narrowed with what looked like an apology. He shook his head. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately. And you hit your head yesterday..."
"I'm not crazy, James!" I screamed, sitting up to face him. "I saw how you protected Ava! I saw the way you looked at her! I'm not stupid!"
His breath caught for a moment. He reached for me, but I twisted my shoulder away.
He sighed heavily, as if weighing his next words carefully. "Ava and I... we do have a history. Before she became Benjamin's wife, we were at university together. We dated."
My heart stopped. Why had no one ever told me this?
As if anticipating my confusion, James continued. "But we only dated. We realized we weren't right for each other and broke it off. Nothing inappropriate ever happened."
I watched him warily, waiting.
He wet his lips. "I didn't realize she'd become my sister-in-law until Benjamin's wedding. Benjamin and I were never close... so I never told anyone."
His voice dropped here, carrying something that might have been genuine guilt—or might have been calculated to win my sympathy.
"Regardless, Benjamin was my brother. I would never covet his wife. I just... now that Benjamin's gone, I feel responsible for looking after his widow and child. That's all."
Half his face disappeared into shadow. I couldn't tell whether to believe him.
He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with what looked like remorse. "I'm sorry you misunderstood, Wren."
His voice dropped low as he moved closer.
"Today was supposed to be our anniversary. We should be at that beach house right now, enjoying our holiday."
His gaze dropped to my lips. His intention was clear.
"Maybe Mother's right. We really should hurry up and produce an heir." His lips descended—
I turned away.
Heir.
The word cut through the fog like a blade.
"That's the real reason you're apologizing, isn't it?" I pulled back, disgust flickering across my face. "Your mother's been putting pressure on you again."
A crack formed in James's carefully maintained mask of tenderness.
"Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Wren? I've had a hell of a day. What's wrong with wanting to be close to my wife?"
"Wife?" My voice rose, cracking with emotion. "Do you actually see me as your wife?"
I paused, the weight of the day crashing down on me.
"Forget it, James. I'm tired. Let's talk another time."
I started to rise—
James's hand shot out, yanking me back down onto the carpet.
"I've tolerated enough from you today, Wren." He wrenched at my buttons, rough, no tenderness left. "You're my wife. When your husband needs you, you fucking give."
His movements were brutal, careless—he didn't care if he hurt me. I struggled, but he pinned my wrists above my head. Every kiss he forced on me made my stomach lurch. I kicked, thrashed, but couldn't shake him.
Just when I thought there was no escaping tonight—
A loud crash echoed from somewhere in the house.
James froze for a split second.
I seized it. Shoved him off. Scrambled on hands and knees toward the door, fleeing that suffocating room.
I made it downstairs, gasping—
And stopped dead.
Two unexpected figures stood in the entrance hall.
Ava. And Liam.
What the hell were they doing at our house?
