I stumbled home at 4 a.m., soaked and dizzy from a fever, barely keeping myself upright against the bathroom door.

At the staircase, I noticed a pair of women's heels.

'Terence brought someone home?' My heart skipped, then settled.

It didn't matter. I was leaving him.

My feet were blistered, my legs heavy as lead. Steam filled the bathroom, my vision blurring as a tear hit my hand.

I remembered meeting Terence in a cold rain years ago.

Lester's cheating and abuse drove my mom to jump, leaving me with PTSD that flared on rainy days.

I suffered from shaking, anxiety, insomnia, and even self-harm.

During a breakdown, I collapsed on the street, and Terence carried me to the hospital.

When I met him again, it was at school.

He spotted my law book and grinned, "You gonna be a lawyer? Can I hire you for my cases?"

I studied law, and he studied finance.

We fell in love, and after graduation, I became his company's go-to lawyer, winning case after case.

As I turned off the shower, a hand grabbed mine. "Back already? Why didn't you call?"

Terence wrapped a towel around me, pulling me close. "Don't be mad about today. Work has been a mess, and you were giving me attitude. I lost my temper."

He brushed my wet hair and kissed my ear, briefly resembling the caring husband I once knew.

He continued, "I told you to walk home as a joke. I sent the driver back for you after dropping Marie off, but he couldn't find you. Your phone was off."

"So, you just stopped looking?" I asked, my heart tightening.

He froze, then shrugged. "You made it back fine, didn't you?"

His casual words cut like a blade. His kindness was all a façade.

I pushed him away and turned to face him. "That was a highway in a storm. I could have died there."

He frowned, his voice hardening. "I'm trying to make peace. How long are you gonna keep this up? Your PTSD's under control, right? It's been 16 years. It's just rain. It won't kill you."

I gripped the towel, biting my lip. "Why didn't you tell me your new assistant was Marie?"

"Because I knew you'd flip out," he said dismissively. "It's been years. Let it go. Marie didn't do anything wrong."

Unwilling to rehash the past, I walked to my room, opened the door, and froze.

Marie was in my bed, her nightgown slipping off her shoulder, revealing faint marks on her neck.

"Lena, you're back," she muttered, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.

My blood ran cold, and I spun around to gape at Terence.

"It was raining too hard," he explained. "Marie couldn't get home, so she crashed here.”

"Crashing here means you had to sleep with her?" I sneered.

"Whoa, hold up!" Marie jumped up. "I just liked your mattress better than the guest room's. Terence was in his study all night. We didn't do anything."

She reached for my hand, fake tears in her eyes. "I was waiting for you so we could catch up. It's been so long."

Her touch unleashed a flood of memories.

"Why didn't you jump with your mom? Always moping like a zombie. Your dad's mine now. You'll never win. Your mom looked so ugly when she died. Didn't it give you nightmares?"

"She is not my sister, just a clingy bad-luck charm!"

"Real talk: your mom was too slow to jump, so I gave her a scare. I didn't touch her. She slipped and fell."

"Go ahead and tell everyone. You've got no proof."

Those words made me sick.

I yanked my hand away and slapped Marie hard. "This is my house. Get out!"

She clutched her cheek, tears streaming.

Terence grabbed me, shoving me against the wall. "What is wrong with you today?"

Pain shot through me.

Marie sobbed, tugging at Terence's sleeve. "It's fine. Lena never liked me. After high school, she never came home, not even when our dad died. If she doesn't want me here, I'll go."

Her words tore open old wounds, the same trick she used to get me kicked out years ago.

I still remembered Lester smashing a chair over my head, throwing my stuff out, and yelling, "Get out and stay gone, just like your dead mom!"

I stumbled, almost falling to the ground.

Terence glared, his voice dripping with disgust. "I didn't expect you to be so heartless."

"I don't have a sister!" I shouted, tears falling.

He shoved me again. "If you're gonna lose it, do it somewhere else. I'm done with your tantrums."

He turned, gently scooping Marie up and setting her on the bed. "Don't worry. No one is kicking you out while I'm here."

My heart felt strangled. I stormed downstairs, changed, and left.

I called a contact. "That financial case you mentioned? I'm in."

"Ms. Schroeder, you sure? I mean, you're Terence's lawyer and wife. I heard he wants you to defend him."

"Not for long. I'll handle my resignation and divorce before the trial."

That night, a high fever landed me in the hospital, where I sat alone with an IV until dawn.

The next morning, I dragged myself to the office with paperwork.

Terence smirked. "Thought you had more pride than to show up for work."

Marie stood beside him. "Are you still upset about last night, Lena?"

She looked at me timidly, adding, "Nothing happened with Terence. He just let me stay. Can you let it go?"

Terence frowned. "You don't owe her an apology. She's just being petty."

I handed him the papers. "Sign these."

He trusted my work and signed without looking. Then he smirked and tossed them back.

"Get the Ryde case materials ready."

"I can't."

"What?"

I held up the documents. "Resignation letter and divorce agreement. You just signed them."

His face darkened. "Over last night? You're really gonna play hardball? You think you can threaten me into firing Marie? That I can't live without you?"

I smiled faintly. "You'll do fine without me. Good luck."

Deep down, I knew his career would go nowhere without my help.

He snorted, "You'd better stay tough for a little while longer. Don't come crawling back to me tomorrow."

I ignored him and turned to walk away, missing the venomous glint in Marie's eyes.

On the empty road, a truck suddenly sped toward me.

A deafening crash followed. Pain exploded as my bones felt crushed, and everything went black.

"Sir, Mrs. Salinas had a car accident!" reported an assistant.

Terence scoffed, "She files for divorce, then pulls this stunt? I'm not playing her games."

"It's real, sir. Her condition is critical. The hospital sent photos."