“Ariana Anderson… You call that helping?” His laughter was bitter, almost unhinged. “That was taking advantage of someone’s misery! That was ruining not just my life—but Liz’s! Your father destroyed us and you… you had the audacity to stand by and watch!”
His voice rose, filled with years of suppressed hatred.
“For eight years—eight fucking years—do you know how Liz has suffered?! We loved each other. We belonged together! But you and your despicable father tore us apart!”
His voice cracked with venom.
“So I will make sure you suffer.”
His final words were a promise, laced with a deep, soul-crushing hatred.
And as I stood there, gripping my coat tightly around me, I realized something terrifying.
There was no longer any love between us.
Only a war that would never end.
Christopher’s voice was filled with cold, biting certainty.
“Your birthday is in seven days! I know! That’s why I’m proposing to Liz that day! I love her! I’m not pretending! I want her to be my wife—the only wife in my heart, even if it isn’t legally recognized!”
His words hit me like a slap, but he wasn’t finished.
“You’ll just have to spend your next life as Mrs. Adam,” he sneered.
Then his voice dropped, filled with cruel amusement.
“Oh, and I saw Liz stepping on your stomach that day. I let her do it. I indulged her. Even if the child inside you is born, I won’t give him a single ounce of fatherly love.”
He scoffed. “Ariana, this is exactly what you and your daughter deserve.”
With that, he shoved me aside, started the car and drove away without a second glance.
I barely had time to steady myself before my phone rang again. It was Christopher.
His tone had changed—colder, more playful.
“Ariana, you’ll personally handle my proposal ceremony in seven days.”
His voice dripped with mockery.
“Aren’t you virtuous? Aren’t you always so composed? Then go ahead and do it.”
He chuckled. “You’d better put in some effort. If Liz isn’t satisfied, I have plenty of ways to keep your father on the trending searches every single day.”
Before I could respond, he hung up—humming a little tune as if he hadn’t just shattered my world.
I knew Christopher would follow through on his threats.
With trembling hands, I pushed open the door and walked into the living room.
The first thing I saw was the enormous wedding photo of Christopher and me hanging on the wall.
A bitter smile curled my lips.