Rest? My daughter was dead. My husband was a traitor. And he wanted me to rest?
I lowered my gaze, staring at my hands as they twisted in the sheets. I needed to breathe, to think, to get the hell out of here before I exploded.
I inhaled shakily. “I… I don’t remember much.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly. Good. Let him think I was weak. Let him believe I was lost in grief.
“It’s understandable,” he said gently. “You’ve been through so much. Maybe it’s best if you don’t think too hard about things right now.”
Don’t think too hard? Oh, I was thinking plenty.
I was thinking about how he’d whispered to Selena. How he’d covered for her. How he’d let our daughter’s murderer walk free.
But I just nodded. “Maybe.”
His relief was almost insulting. He really thought I was breaking. That I would accept whatever lies he told me.
He had no idea.
The nurse walked in then, flipping through my chart. “Mrs. Rivera, your test results look fine. You just fainted from exhaustion. We’ll discharge you soon.”
I nodded absently, keeping my head down. My whole body was trembling, but not from grief. Not from exhaustion. From rage. This wasn’t over. Not even close.
—
After leaving the hospital, I became a woman on a mission. I started digging—phone records, surveillance footage, anything to prove what I knew.
But Marco had covered his tracks.
The security footage? Gone.
Police reports? Altered.
The car? Never found.
It was like the accident never happened.
Frustration clawed at me. Marco had money, power, influence. He could erase evidence with a snap of his fingers. But I wouldn’t stop.
And if I couldn’t prove the accident… I’d destroy my marriage.
The moment I got the divorce papers, I felt like I could breathe again.
I wasn’t naïve. I knew Marco wouldn’t take this lightly, so I kept it a secret.
For weeks, I planned my exit—meeting with a lawyer, securing a place to stay, preparing for the storm.
Then one evening, Marco found the divorce papers.
His face was thunderous as he stormed in, holding the crumpled documents.
“What the hell is this?” His voice was dangerously low.
I stood my ground. “Exactly what it looks like. I’m leaving you.”
His jaw clenched. “No, you’re not.”
I crossed my arms. “Yes, I am.”
A bitter laugh escaped him. “You really think you can just walk away?”
I swallowed. “There’s nothing left between us. Celeste is gone. And you…” My voice wavered. “You’re a monster.”