Part 1Vows of Vengeance

At eighteen, Caleb Thorne shielded me in his arms. He took a brutal beating from a gang, leaving him bloodied and barely clinging to life.

As he lay on the gurney, someone asked if he regretted it.

Barely conscious, he let out a reckless, wild laugh:

"Regret? Hell no. What are two broken legs compared to this?"

"I’ve got myself a wife for life now!"

At twenty-eight, I slipped off my wedding ring. Along with a pink hair tie I’d found in his pocket, I handed it all back to him.

He took the hair tie—the one his little college mistress had used to provoke me.

He leaned against the wall, watching me with a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes:

"Honey, you don't actually think this little stunt is going to make me have a change of heart, do you?"

* * *

I didn’t answer. I just kept packing my things.

The hair tie was a soft baby pink, the kind that looks cute and playful on a college girl.

Caleb slid it over his wrist, let out a dry chuckle.

His gaze lingered on the pink band as if he were seeing someone else through it, and the curve of his mouth softened into something sweet.

If this were the old me, I would have been triggered. I would have screamed, cried, and hysterically demanded to know if he was thinking about that brat.

But now, I just pushed the wedding ring closer to him across the table.

"Let's get a divorce, Caleb. I'm serious."

Caleb didn't respond.

He maintained that same casual, indifferent posture, though his smile gained a sharp edge of mockery.

I knew he didn't believe me.

Because "divorce" was a word I had thrown around a hundred times over the last few years.

The first few times, he actually panicked.

He’d get bloodshot eyes, making promises, swearing oaths.

He’d do anything and everything to beg me to stay.

Until that one time. His little side-piece caught a high fever.

I was on the verge of a breakdown. I told him if he dared to go to her, we were done.

That day was my birthday. Caleb never came home.

When the girl sent me a voice clip of her moaning his name, I actually considered ending it all.

I stood by the open window, the night wind chilling my skin to the bone.

In the end, I didn't jump. I just slumped onto the floor and sobbed like a broken animal.

When Caleb finally came home, he knelt in front of me and laughed mockingly:

"Wifey, weren't we getting a divorce?"

"Why are you still guarding the house like a loyal dog, hm?"