The feeling of hovering at death's edge was more terrifying than death itself.

The first thing Blaire did after regaining consciousness was call the police.

But before she could finish stating her case, Evan stormed into the room and snatched the phone from her hand.

He ended the call, irritation clear on his face. "Have you lost your mind?"

Her throat was raw from dehydration and days without food, her voice hoarse but steady. "I'm calling the cops, Evan."

She looked at him without flinching. "That was attempted murder."

Blaire's face was so ashen it looked translucent.

For a split second, Evan felt that same unsettling fear that he might lose her entirely. He frowned, suppressing the strange unease, and his tone softened almost involuntarily.

"Honey, we're still married. This is just a domestic dispute."

"Then I'll wait until we're divorced." She spoke each word clearly. "Time doesn't erase wrongdoing."

His heartbeat stuttered. Something in her voice suggested more than she was saying.

But what mistake had he made?

Everything a patient with dissociative identity disorder did could be excused as illness.

He didn't make mistakes. He got sick.

And Blaire would never know the difference.

He steadied himself. "Stop making this worse. If you hadn't hurt Cora first, none of this would've happened. If you actually call the police, you'll be the one who suffers. No one's going to risk crossing me over something this trivial."

Blaire let out a hollow laugh. "I almost died, and you think that's trivial?"

"I was watching. You weren't going to die." He added casually, "If you're still mad, next time we remarry, I'll let you give me a shot too. Fair enough? This was your fault. Maybe now you've felt some pain, you'll learn not to play with someone's life. And she's my lifesaver. Without her, I wouldn't even be here talking to you."

Lifesaver. And lover.

Evan cheated and still expected Blaire to clean up the narrative for him.

Love divided into two identical portions was nothing but repulsive.

Blaire closed her eyes. She no longer had the energy to argue.

Evan assumed she was simply angry and chose to wait for her to cool down.

Whether for convenience or sheer indifference, he arranged her hospital room next to Cora's.

Sometimes, when Blaire drifted in and out of thought, she heard laughter from the neighboring room.

Endless luxury goods passed her doorway on their way to Cora's room, all for the sake of a smile.

Even the nurses knew Evan was keeping two women at his side.

Blaire reacted to none of it. She ate when it was time to eat, slept when it was time to sleep—until one night she was jolted awake by a hand clamped over her mouth and nose.

Her eyes snapped open to see Cora, hair loose and wild.

"Ms. Bennett," Cora murmured, "does it take someone as shameless as you to keep crawling back after every stunt and still stay by Evan's side?"

The suffocation triggered Blaire's reflex. She shoved Cora away and clutched her chest, gasping for air.

Cora looked half-crazed, worn thin by gossip and by Blaire's indifference. "What's wrong with you? Do you really think he's staying at the hospital for you? No. I told him I wanted to have sex with him next to you. He refused to take me home, so this was as close as I could get. Do you even realize he doesn't love you anymore? He only loves me!"

"Love you?" Blaire's lips curved coldly. "You don't even qualify as the other woman. What makes you think he loves you?"

"Shut up!" Cora glared at her. "He listens to me now. I'll prove it."

Blaire gave a nonchalant nod. After Cora stormed out, Evan's call came through.

He didn't even wait for her to speak. "What did you do to Cora this time?"

"Anything else? If not, I'm hanging up."

"Wait." He sighed, exhaustion heavy in his voice. "She's crying hysterically. She wants you to personally organize our wedding. You know she's not stable. She can't keep crying like this. Don't worry. It's just a ceremony. You're the only one I consider my wife."

"Fine. But I have a condition." Her voice was calm. "Our divorce decree first. Then you can start planning your wedding."

"You really want to divorce me that badly?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Blaire said, "No. The choice is yours."

She did not go back to sleep. As expected, at dawn, Evan's secretary delivered the finalized divorce decree.

"Mr. Everett said you upset Ms. Hayes, so he has to make it up to her. That's why he didn't come in person today," the secretary explained. "He also said he doesn't want the divorce either, but this is the only way to keep everyone satisfied. He hopes you understand."

Blaire said nothing. As she ran her fingers over the familiar document, she felt lighter than she had in years.

Without notifying anyone, she completed her discharge paperwork and took a cab to the airport.

Evan called again and again.

She never answered. When she stepped out of the cab, she threw the phone into a trash bin.

She turned once more to look at the city that had held all her love and hatred. A small, relieved smile touched her lips.

Blaire thought to herself that whatever had existed between them ended here, and from now on she would never look back.

The hospital room was empty.

Every call and message went unanswered.

Blaire was still recovering. She had no one to rely on here. Where could she possibly have gone?

Evan listened to the endless busy tone, his brow tightening. He muttered a curse under his breath and snapped at his secretary and bodyguards. "She doesn't just vanish into thin air. What were you all doing?"

The bodyguards exchanged uneasy looks. Under his darkening expression, one of them explained carefully, "Ms. Hayes was worried someone might try to harm her again. She asked us to stay posted outside her room. That left fewer people watching over Ms. Bennett."

Everyone knew who that someone supposedly was.

Evan's agitation deepened. Blaire had always been gentle, almost too gentle. The fiercest emotion she had ever shown was when she discovered his affair. Otherwise, she rarely even raised her voice.

Since when had she become, in other people's eyes, some unstable woman capable of violence?

A dull ache spread across his chest, as though a sacred statue he had once placed on a pedestal had been defiled.

Then he realized he had been the one to defile it.

The discomfort hardened into something heavier, like a stone lodged in his chest that refused to move.

He drew a slow breath, forcing himself to calm down.

The secretary seized the moment and spoke cautiously. "After the previous divorces, Ms. Bennett would disappear for a while too. She loves you. She just needs time to process the hurt. When she's ready, she'll come back and start over with you."

Evan's expression eased slightly.

Encouraged, the secretary continued, "There's no need to worry. She can't leave you. This time isn't any different from the last three. Once you've handled your current matters, you can bring her back."

That was true. There was no real difference between this and the previous three times.

If Blaire had forgiven him three times, she would forgive him a fourth.

He would simply have to put in a bit more effort. And compared to what she meant to him, that effort was nothing.

"Find her. I want to know where she is and whether she's safe." Evan paused before adding, "But don't disturb her. Seeing you might make things worse."

He glanced at his watch and realized it was time for the auction he had promised to attend with Cora. With a tired wave, he dismissed the guards.

Cora stood by the car, dressed elegantly. The sight made him pause.

He remembered, unbidden, the promise he had once made during his early days with Blaire—that the passenger seat would belong only to her.

Somewhere along the way, that seat had lost its exclusivity. Models, actresses, socialites—anyone could sit there. In the end, Blaire had occupied it the least.

The thought unsettled him enough that when Cora reached for the passenger door, he stopped her. Despite her soft protests, he insisted she sit in the back.

The distraction followed him throughout the auction.

He was there to help Cora select jewelry, yet every piece he looked at reminded him of Blaire.

The unease in his chest grew stronger than it had after any of the previous divorces.

He needed to coax Blaire.

The idea lodged firmly in his mind. He suddenly had no patience left for the event. He lifted his paddle and made an open bid on every lot, effectively buying the entire collection.

If he brought her gifts like these, Blaire would not stay angry for long.

He moved to leave in a hurry, almost forgetting Cora entirely, until she grabbed his arm, eyes reddened. Only then did he remember that she was meant to be the bride of his upcoming ceremony.

"Evan, you bought all this for me, didn't you?"

Evan felt a flicker of irritation and answered casually, "These are for Blaire. I'll get you something better next time."

"But I wanted these." Cora's voice trembled. "You and Blaire are divorced. Why are you still giving her gifts? Do you even realize I'm the one you're supposed to marry?"

"It's just a ceremony. It doesn't mean anything to me." He tugged at his lip dismissively. "As for the divorce, what about it? I could divorce Blaire a hundred times. I'd still remarry her."

His voice dropped in warning. "Cora, I agreed to give you a wedding because you saved my life. But don't forget your place. The only person who gets to question my decisions is my wife. And that will always be Blaire."