On the Memorial Day weekend, Mason Hayes, the student my wife, Abigail Sullivan, had been sponsoring, insisted on riding with me back to his hometown.

My car was small, the drive was long, and the trunk was already packed. There was no way to fit another adult, so I turned him down as politely as I could.

That night, Abigail came home and stayed quiet for a long time before finally saying, "He ended up walking along the highway. His feet were torn up."

I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "It's a holiday weekend. There are Ubers everywhere. He could've booked one in minutes."

She nodded softly, the same gentle expression she always wore, and poured me a glass of water.

I drank it.

The next thing I knew, everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing under a brutal midday sun on an empty stretch of highway. Abigail leaned into Mason's shoulder, holding her phone up as she livestreamed. There was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing warm about it.

"You said getting around was easy, right? Why don't you try walking home yourself?"

The livestream was packed. The chat flooded with messages, people placing bets on how far I would make it.

I looked straight into the camera, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and said, "Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

###CONTENT

####CHAPTER-NAME:

Heat shimmered off the asphalt.

In the back seat of a Rolls-Royce, Abigail Sullivan and Mason Hayes were laughing so hard that they could barely sit upright.

Abigail kept the camera trained on me while the livestream chat scrolled so fast it blurred.

"Look at him," she said, her tone almost playful. "Still stubborn as ever. He really thinks someone's coming to get him."

Mason leaned out the window, putting on a concerned expression.

"Maybe we should just let Carter in. It's way too hot out here. If he keeps walking, something could actually happen."

"Relax." Abigail tightened her arm around his waist, then turned toward me, her expression hardening.

"Carter, you have two choices. Either apologize to Mason, or walk all 50 miles.

"The highway runs straight. You won't get lost."

The chat exploded.

[Serves him right. Bet he didn't see this coming when he turned Mason down.]

[He thinks money makes him untouchable? That's pathetic.]

[About time someone knocked him down a peg. Go, Ms. Sullivan!]

[Look at him now. Not so impressive anymore.]

[Fifty miles? A guy like that won't even make three.]

I stood there under the sun, sweat soaking through my clothes, my lips split and dry.

Mason looked at me, his expression tightening with what appeared to be genuine concern. He touched Abigail's arm and lowered his voice.

"Abby, forget it. I grew up with nothing. I'm not like Carter. A few miles on foot isn't the end of the world for someone like me.

"I'm sure he had his reasons for not giving me a ride. No need to make things harder on him because of me."

As he spoke, his gaze flicked toward me for just a second, a trace of smugness slipping through.

My head buzzed.

Before the holiday weekend, Mason had asked if he could ride with me back to his hometown.

My car had been packed to the brim. There was no space.

I politely told him that it would be easy to get an Uber. Feeling bad that I couldn't help, I even sent him money to pay for the trip.

And now, somehow, I was the bad guy looking down on him and refusing to give him a ride.

Abigail's voice turned cold. She tightened her grip on Mason's arm and glared at me.

"You're too nice, Mason. That's why people keep taking advantage of you. When he started using the fact that he's my husband to make your life difficult, he should've known there'd be consequences."

I looked at her.

This was the woman I had loved for six years.

To marry her, I walked away from the Blackwing Division I built with my own hands.

At the time, I thought it was worth it.

The first year of our marriage had been good. In the second year, she started sponsoring Mason.

By the third, after Mason graduated from college, Abigail hired him as her assistant. I didn't think much of it. She had supported him, and it seemed only natural that he would want to repay her by working for the company.

Then, little by little, things began to change.

Once, during a company basketball game, he deliberately slid under me while I was coming down from a rebound. I landed awkwardly and rolled my ankle. The pain was so sharp that I shoved him without thinking.

He went down immediately, scraping his elbow on the court.

In front of hundreds of employees, Abigail berated me for being reckless and overreacting.

When we got home that night, she barely spoke to me.

Then she didn't speak to me at all for the next three days.

After that, incidents like that became more frequent.

At a project meeting, Mason presented my proposal as if it were his own. When I called him out, he lowered his head and stood there, looking wronged.

Abigail said I was petty and couldn't stand seeing someone else succeed.

When Mason stayed late at the office, she accused me of dumping all the work on him and said I was working him to the bone.

When his birthday came around, I sent him money as a gift. She said I was being thoughtless and couldn't even show basic sincerity to someone who worked for me.

One time, he deliberately spilled coffee on a contract I had just signed. I snapped at him, and he stood there in silence.

Without even asking what happened, Abigail immediately assumed I was the problem, picking on an honest, hardworking employee.

At first, I thought maybe I wasn't doing enough. I started watching everything I said and did. But no matter how careful I was, she always found something wrong.

And now, standing on a highway hot enough to melt rubber, watching my wife lean against Mason's shoulder while livestreaming my humiliation, I finally understood.

The problem wasn't that I hadn't done enough.

The problem was that I was in the way.

####CHAPTER-NAME:

I shifted my gaze away from Abigail, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and looked straight into the phone pointed at me. My voice came out hoarse but steady.

"Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

The chat froze for a second before exploding.

[Is this guy crazy?]

[After everything that's happened, he's still talking tough?]

Abigail laughed. There was nothing but contempt and impatience in it.

She let go of Mason, leaned out of the car, and looked me over from head to toe.

"Keep acting tough. We'll see how long you can keep it up."

She said to the bodyguard in the front seat, "Let the dogs out. He's moving too slow. Maybe they can help him pick up the pace."

Mason frowned, putting on a concerned look. "Don't do that. You're gonna scare him."

Abigail patted his hand, her tone turning soft again. "Relax. They're on leashes. They won't kill him."

The car door opened, and two large hounds lunged straight at me.

My whole body went cold.

I was a grown man, but I had been afraid of dogs since I was a kid.

Abigail knew that. She liked dogs, but after we got married, she never kept one. She would even go out of her way to avoid people walking their pets, just so I wouldn't have to see them.

And now, she was setting them on me herself.

The dogs lunged toward my feet. I didn't think. I just turned and ran.

The pavement felt like a cast-iron skillet under the noon sun.

I had barely gone a few dozen yards before my shoes came off and blisters started forming on the soles of my feet.

Behind me, the dogs barked wildly, closing in.

[Damn, he's fast!]

[At that speed, he could qualify for the Olympics.]

[Didn't see that coming. For a guy who looks like he sits behind a desk all day, he's pretty fast.]

[This is hilarious. They can't even catch him!]

[He's Ms. Sullivan's husband. Guy probably lives in the gym. Of course, he's in shape.]

The chat was moving too fast for me to read, but I could imagine the look on Abigail's face.

She leaned out of the car again, the smile on her lips tightening.

Mason leaned closer to her, his voice filled with just the right amount of concern. "Carter's really fast. I don't think I could keep up with him."

She didn't respond. She just narrowed her eyes and watched me.

I had already run close to half a mile. The blisters on my feet had burst open, and every step sent a sharp stab of pain through my soles.

The dogs were still chasing me, but they had slowed down. The bodyguard held them back, tugging on the leashes to keep control.

Mason leaned halfway out the window and called after me, "Carter, just apologize! Abby won't make things difficult for you!"

I clenched my teeth and ignored him.

His expression darkened slightly before he slipped right back into that self-pitying act.

"Carter, I grew up poor. Walking a few miles is nothing to me. But you don't need to do this."

His voice trembled, and his eyes reddened. He looked every bit like someone genuinely worried about me.

Abigail pulled him back into his seat and patted his shoulder, her voice so gentle that it barely sounded like her. "You're too nice for your own good. You always try to carry everything by yourself."

At some point, the pavement gave way to a stretch of loose gravel. The rocks were sharp and jagged.

The moment I stepped on them, blood seeped from the soles of my feet.

The scent sent the dogs into a frenzy. Barking wildly, they lunged forward so hard that the bodyguard nearly lost his grip on the leashes.

I stumbled forward, gravel grinding into open wounds. Every step felt like walking across broken glass.

More blood spilled behind me, and my footprints grew darker with every step.

The livestream viewers got even more excited.

[Place your bets! I've got another mile on him!]

[I'm taking 500 yards. Look at him. He's about to drop.]

[One mile. No more than that.]

[Three miles. I'll bet he makes three.]

The chat turned into a betting pool. Odds started popping up as more people flooded in just to watch.

Abigail stared at the numbers climbing on her screen, a faint smile forming on her lips. She looked pleased. Then she glanced at me again, her eyes completely cold.

"I want the whole country to see what happens when you cross Mason."

Mason leaned out again, staring at me, his voice still wrapped in false concern. "Carter, stop pushing yourself. Just say you're sorry, and this will all be over."

"I'm not apologizing."

For a split second, his smile froze. Then the innocent expression slipped right back into place.

He turned to Abigail, his eyes reddening again. "Did you hear that? He still won't forgive me."

The edges of my vision started to blur.

I had lost too much blood, and my body was reaching its limit.

####CHAPTER-NAME:

As I collapsed, I caught a glimpse of the livestream chat exploding.

[He's down!]

[Not even a mile and a half. I win!]

Mason leaned out the window and looked at me for a second. When he spoke again, his voice carried just the right amount of panic. "I think Carter passed out from heatstroke!"

Abigail frowned slightly, her tone flat. "He actually passed out?"

"He did!" Mason said quickly. "Where I'm from, people say that if someone gets heatstroke, you have to cool them down right away, or it can turn deadly."

She looked at him, her expression softening. "See? This is exactly what I mean. After everything he's done, you're still worried about him."

Mason lowered his voice. "Whatever's happened between us, he's still Carter. I can't just sit back and do nothing."

Abigail patted his shoulder and turned to the bodyguard. "Go get the pressure washer from the trunk."

It was hooked up to a water tank in the back of the car.

Abigail took the nozzle herself while Mason stood beside her. Together, they aimed it at me.

"Ready?" she asked, her tone light, almost playful.

Mason nodded. "Don't turn it up too high. He might not be able to take it."

"Don't worry," Abigail said, shaking her head slightly. "If it's heatstroke, he needs to cool off. Low pressure won't do a thing."

The moment the water hit me, my entire body jerked off the ground.

That wasn't cooling someone down. It felt like getting hit by a truck.

The high-pressure stream tore into my wounds. The pain was so intense that I couldn't even scream. I could only twitch and convulse, gasping with my mouth open.

Water blasted into my nose and mouth, choking me until it felt like my lungs were about to burst.

The force rolled me across the pavement. The back of my head struck the asphalt, and my vision darkened.

The spray followed me wherever I moved.

Abigail laughed, while Mason kept shouting beside her, "Carter, stop moving! The more you move, the worse it'll hurt!"

He sounded so concerned it was almost convincing.

The chat became even more chaotic. Some people cheered. Some said it had gone too far. Most just kept watching.

[This is way more entertaining than making him apologize!]

[Ms. Sullivan really knows how to put on a show.]

[That pressure has to be insane!]

[Mason's too nice. He's still trying to help the guy!]

The water finally cut off.

The skin around my wounds had turned pale from the pounding water. Blood mixed with runoff and spread beneath me.

My clothes clung to my body. I couldn't tell where the water ended and the blood began.

Abigail crouched down. The bodyguard grabbed my hair and yanked my head up.

"So, have you decided?"

Blood bubbled in my mouth. I couldn't speak.

She brushed a hand through my hair, her voice gentle, almost as though she were soothing a child.

"It's just an apology. Is this really worth it? Apologize to Mason, and I'll get you to a hospital."

Mason leaned out from behind her, looking at me with concern written all over his face. "Don't make Abby angry. Just say you're sorry. I won't hold it against you."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only the three of us could hear. "Just admit you were wrong. Say you're sorry, and this can all be over. You're only making things harder on yourself."

His face was inches from mine.

His brows were knitted tightly together, every bit of him radiating concern, as though he were the one hurting.

I gathered the blood in my mouth, aimed at his face, and spat.

It hit him full on.

Mason grunted and stumbled backward two steps, frantically wiping at his face, but all he managed to do was smear blood across his skin.

Abigail slapped me hard. I staggered sideways, my cheek burning as a sharp ringing filled my head.

"You really don't know when to quit, do you?"

The bodyguard held me in place while Abigail crouched down again.

Her voice dropped, cold enough to send a chill through me. "You're still going after Mason? Do you really think I won't make you pay for it?"

Mason grabbed her arm from the side, his voice tight. "Abby, forget it. Carter didn't mean it. He must be in too much pain…"

Abigail pulled him behind her and pointed straight at me.

"Don't say I didn't give you a chance."

####CHAPTER-NAME: