Chapter Two

The bonus points from completing the mission could still be traded for five hundred thousand dollars in cash.

An unexpected perk, I guess.

From the day I left for the shoot, Liam had checked on me every single day. It hadn’t stopped him from cheating at all.

Last year, Liam had stumbled across a video of high school bullying.

He’d brought up being bullied himself, like it was nothing.

He said he could understand it, in a way. Vanessa and her friends had working legs. Someone like him, who couldn’t walk, was bound to make them curious.

At the time, it struck me as strange, but I didn’t think about it too hard.

Now I could see he’d been tangled up with Vanessa long before this.

What a joke.

All that hatred, and in the end, all that was left was love.

Most of Liam’s assets were in my name. We’d been legally married for years.

I’d be leaving soon anyway. There was no point in a divorce.

I sat on the rug hugging my knees. My eyes were dry and aching. Strangely, I didn’t cry.

The sun was shining outside. It hadn’t rained at all today.

When I was in the coma, I could sometimes hear the nurses talking.

They’d tell me it was a beautiful day outside, and ask if I could feel the sun.

I stroked my stomach.

I’m sorry. I can’t take you with me.

The system said it would give me three days to get ready.

I’d lived in this world for eight years, after all. Disappearing overnight would raise questions.

The master bedroom was still full of traces of them.

I swallowed back my nausea, found my ID, and drove to the hospital.

Right before the anesthesia, my best friend Zoe called.

She was furious, practically shouting. First she told me to go look at Liam’s Instagram. Then she told me not to get upset, and that I had to make those two pay.

The nurse was preparing the medication.

I hung up and opened Instagram.

Five minutes earlier, Liam had posted a story: Somebody’s having a rough day. Taking her for a drive.

The photo was the back of Vanessa’s head, her hair whipping in the wind, her face out of frame.

My heart throbbed with pain. Mostly, I felt sick.

I pressed a hand to my chest and waited a long time before I replied: Maybe be a little more discreet about the affair.

The second it sent, Liam called.

I hung up on him.

He texted almost immediately.

What’s that supposed to mean?

She’s having a bad day. We were just messing around.

Don’t push it.

Claire, apologize to her.

The nurse called to me. “Ms. Ward, we’re ready.”

I turned off my phone and took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

…

Liam called Claire again and again. Her phone was off every time.

He deleted the story, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag.

Vanessa hung on his arm and pouted. “Claire’s so strong. The mark on your face still hasn’t gone away.”

Liam stared at her. “Which hand did you push her with?”

Vanessa froze. “Liam…”

His face was ice. “The right one?”

She burst into tears on the spot. “I didn’t mean to! She hit you, and I panicked…”

Her crying got on his nerves. He pulled his arm away, his face cold. “I’ll take you home.”

Vanessa bit her lip and said okay.

When they got to her building, she said she was dizzy, so he had to walk her upstairs.

That night, Claire still wasn’t answering her phone.

Liam’s face was dark. He had a nagging feeling something was wrong.

Vanessa slid her arms around him from behind, her palm tracing circles on his chest.

“Liam, I was a stupid kid in high school. Are you still mad at me? I know I was wrong.”

Liam turned and studied Vanessa’s sweet, pitiful face.

Claire never looked at him like that.

His temples throbbed. His throat worked. He pushed Vanessa away.

But Vanessa was an expert at this. She wrapped herself around him again.

“Claire’s a grown woman. She’ll be fine.”

…

After the procedure, I stayed an extra night and was discharged the next day.

Plenty of nosy people had seen Liam’s story.

Some were worried about me. Some were gleefully waiting to watch me humiliated.

One of them, a woman named Rachel who used to chase after Liam, sent me a long message.

She said Vanessa’s marriage overseas had been dead for a long time. She’d been separated from her husband and had moved back last year.

Then she sent me screenshots of Vanessa’s Instagram.

Claire, all you did was hang around Liam for a while back in the day, and you thought you two were so in love. Guess not.

What good are you, anyway? You can’t even compete with a married woman.

Vanessa’s Instagram was a couples account. It was full of vlogs of her and Liam, and it had built up a huge following.

But Liam never showed his face, so no one knew it was him.

The earliest post went back two years, to when Liam had been flying overseas for “business” constantly.

Last year, after Vanessa moved back, Liam started taking a “business trip” to Vancouver every single week.

The account was full of shirtless photos of him, close-ups of his hands, intimate shots from every angle.

I’d thought I was past hurting. But the pain arrived late and spread through my whole body, until even my bones ached.

Liam, you lied to me this much.