I reached for my ring, pulled it off, and threw it at him. It hit his chest and rolled to the floor. “Let’s divorce.”
For a second, he looked stunned. Then he laughed—a low, mocking sound that filled the space. “Divorce? You think it’s that easy?”
He took a step toward me, smirking. “You signed a prenuptial agreement, remember? You get nothing. And even if you try, my family would never agree to a divorce. They condone it. They’ll side with me, Emerald—they always do. Even your parents!”
“I don’t care,” I whispered. “I’ll convince them if I have to. I just don’t want to see you anymore.”
I turned toward the door, ready to leave, to finally walk away. But before I could take another step, Nathan grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
“Seriously?” he hissed, his grip tightening. “You think you can just walk out on me like that?”
“Nathan—”
Before I could finish, another voice cut through the room.
“What’s happening here?”
Amber. She stood at the door, eyes wide with fake concern. “Hey, are you hurting my stepsister?” she said, rushing forward, her tone too dramatic, too sweet.
I’d been a fool not to see through her before. She crouched beside me, pretending to check my bruised face, her hand brushing my arm in a mock gesture of care. “Emerald, are you okay? Please, stop fighting. You two shouldn’t—”
“Don’t,” I said sharply, pushing her hand away.
Amber stumbled back, slipping on the paint smeared across the floor. She fell with a thud, gasping as if she’d been shot.
“Amber!” Nathan shouted, rushing to her side. “What the hell is wrong with you, Emerald? Look what you’ve done!”
Amber whimpered, clutching her ankle. “I think it’s fractured,” she cried, tears glistening perfectly in her eyes.
Nathan turned to me, furious. “Apologize to her!”
I shook my head, my voice cold. “No. I will not apologize.”
I turned to leave, every step feeling heavier than the last. But before I could reach the door, Amber’s expression changed. Her eyes flicked up—cold, calculating—and in a sudden motion, she pushed me hard.
I didn’t even have time to scream.
My foot slipped against the edge of the top stair. The world tilted, spinning, crashing—paint, floor, air, light, everything blending into a blur.
Then—darkness.
The white walls of the hospital felt colder than usual, almost suffocating. When I woke up, my leg was in a cast, and my heart felt just as broken.