“You don't have to worry,” I said, walking past him without a second glance. “I have zero interest in interrupting your time with Paula. You two deserve each other.”
He frowned, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read my face. He was clearly unsettled by my lack of tears, but his massive ego quickly covered it up.
“Just make sure you're back by the second week of next month,” he ordered. “We have a wedding to schedule.”
I didn't turn around, but a quiet, genuine smile broke across my face.
“Okay,” I whispered to the empty air.
Because the second week of next month was exactly when my one-way flight was scheduled to take off. And Brandon would never find me again.
In the past, during our first few divorces, I was pathetic. I used to follow Brandon and Paula around the city like a masochist. I would sit in my parked car outside expensive restaurants, watching through the glass as he showered her with the kind of tender love and affection he never gave me.
He would buy her entire boutiques, kiss her forehead, and look at her like she hung the stars. It broke my heart into a million pieces, but I swallowed the pain.
I was willing to stay, willing to endure the humiliation, just for the scraps of his attention.
But everything changed a few months ago, on his birthday.
I had just found out I was pregnant. Overjoyed and terrified, I bought a custom cake and went to his private club to surprise him with the news. I thought a baby might finally make us a real family.
Instead, I got the surprise of my life.
I was standing outside the VIP room, my hand hovering over the doorknob, when I heard him talking to his best friend.
"I don't care about Victoria," Brandon’s voice drifted through the crack in the door, cold and annoyed. "She’s just a placeholder. Honestly, by our ninth marriage, I'm going to dispose of her and cut off her mother's medical funds for good. Paula told me she’s finally getting tired of traveling. She wants to settle down soon, and when she does, I'm going to propose to her."
The cake slipped from my hands, ruining the icing on the carpet. I ran out of the club and stumbled into a cheap bar, drinking until I couldn't feel the ground beneath my feet.
I cried until my eyes were swollen shut.
But the nightmare was just beginning. On my way home, walking through a dark street, a group of thugs dragged me into a filthy alley. I was terrified.