Chapter 6
Brendan spoke, and my best friend, Alia, stepped out with red–rimmed eyes. “Chloe, look at you… I told you not to marry Julian. You
can’t compete with Ophelia. But my brother–he’s waited years, never married-”
“Alia.” Brendan cut her off, but I’d heard. Waited for me all these years? I’d been married a decade, kid and all. Sure, maybe he
couldn’t get a date ‘cause of his disability, but I didn’t care. I was blind, desperate to escape Julian–nothing else mattered.
When we left, nurses tried to stop us, but Brendan made a call and security let us pass. I’d left the divorce papers, phone, recorder–goodbye to that life.
He lifted me into the car, and I froze. “Brendan… your legs?”
Alia grinned: “He wanted to surprise you. Got the best docs in the country–nerve damage took years, but he’s walking now.”
Brendan’s voice was soft: “I’ll be your legs and eyes, okay?”
I was touched, but my heart was still armored–Julian had burned that bridge.
Seven days later, Julian got antsy. “Why hasn’t Chloe called? Send an assistant.”
His guy sighed: “Sir, did you see the news? They say she jumped from the hospital.”
“Bullshit!” Julian snapped. The assistant showed him a clip: a body in my clothes, headline about a hospital suicide. Brendan had staged it–with my okay–to buy us time.
Julian showed Lily the news. “Is that your mom?”
She squinted. “Dunno, Dad.”
At the hospital, my room was empty, but a video circulated. Julian took my recorder, phone, papers back to his office.
“Police say her ID’s been logged out–she’s dead?” Julian muttered. Lily suggested checking my phone. He tried his birthday–unlocked.
Seeing the “no assets” divorce clause, his eyes watered. “She still loved me–password’s my birthday. Did I really mess up this bad?”
He scrolled through photos and notes–all the sweet reminders I’d saved for him and Lily. He had no clue I was alive, starting over.
64:05
