Chapter 4

Audrey Wolfe POV:

"My parents," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth, "they found out I was serious about the divorce."

The car was still and silent, the air thick with unspoken memories. Calvin flinched again, a deep tremor running through his body. He knew. He knew exactly what was coming.

"My mother called me, screaming, threatening," I continued, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "She said if I divorced Calvin, she'd kill herself. She said his money was their only security. My father echoed her, of course. Called me selfish, ungrateful. Said I was destroying their lives."

Kaliyah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "They actually threatened that? After everything he did to you?"

I nodded, staring straight ahead. "They didn't care about what he did. Only what he had." My parents had arrived at the apartment the next day, unannounced, their faces contorted with fury and desperation. They cornered me in the living room, Calvin standing by the fireplace, a silent, almost amused spectator.

"You will not divorce him, Audrey!" my mother had shrieked, clutching her chest dramatically. "Do you hear me? If you do, I will jump off the Brooklyn Bridge! I swear it!"

My father, usually quiet, had stepped forward, his eyes cold and hard. "You disgust me, Audrey. You think you're better than us? You think you can just throw away this life? You owe us! We raised you! We sacrificed everything!"

I had been trapped. Between Calvin's indifference, my parents' emotional terrorism, and the gaping wound in my soul from losing my baby, I felt like I was drowning. There was no one to save me, no one to fight for me.

Except me.

"I couldn't breathe," I whispered, the memory still chilling me to the bone. "I felt like I was suffocating. They were all just... sucking the life out of me, fighting over the scraps of my existence. I looked at Calvin, then at my parents. And I knew there was only one way out. One way to make them stop. To make him sign those papers."

Calvin was trembling, his eyes glued to my face, his breathing shallow. He knew this part. He had witnessed it.

"I walked into the kitchen," I continued, my voice barely audible. "I grabbed the sharpest knife I could find. A chef's knife. And I held it to my throat."

Kaliyah let out a strangled cry. "Audrey! My God, you never told me!"

Calvin closed his eyes, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down his pale cheek.

"They stopped screaming then," I said, a bitter laugh escaping me. "They just stared. Calvin stared. I told him. I said, 'Sign the papers, Calvin. Sign them now. Or I swear to God, I will do it. I will end this right here. You won't get any of your precious money from me then. You won't get anything.'"

He had frozen, paralyzed. The horror in his eyes wasn't for me, I realized later. It was for the scandal. For the mess. For the potential loss of his perfect narrative.

"I needed him to believe me," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "I needed them all to believe me. So I pressed harder."

The physical sensation, even after all these years, was vivid. The cold steel against my skin. The sharp, stinging pain as the blade cut through the flesh. The warm trickle of blood running down my neck.

Calvin had snapped then. He'd rushed forward, grabbing my arm, forcing the knife away. But it was done. The cut was there. A thin, angry line.

He signed the papers that day. In a daze, he signed them. My parents, shocked into silence, retreated, their threats momentarily forgotten. I had sacrificed a piece of myself, literally, to gain my freedom. And the scar, still faintly visible under my hair, was my hard-won trophy.

I opened my eyes, the memory fading, leaving behind only a dull ache. Kaliyah was sobbing, her shoulders shaking.

"Oh, Audrey," she choked out, wiping her eyes. "My poor, sweet Audrey. Why? Why didn't you call me? Why did you go through that alone?"

"Because I didn't want anyone else caught in their crossfire," I said, my voice regaining its composure. "I just wanted out. And I got out."

Calvin, still silent, was openly weeping now, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook with what looked like genuine anguish. It was too late for that, though. Far, far too late.

"You bastard!" Kaliyah shrieked, her grief morphing into a raw fury directed at Calvin. "You stood there and watched her! You let her almost kill herself just to get away from you! You are a monster!"

"Kaliyah, stop," I said, reaching out to touch her arm gently. "It's done. It's over."

She pulled away from me, shaking her head. "No, it's not over! Not until he pays for what he did! I should have been here, Audrey. I should have protected you. I should have beaten some sense into those pathetic parents of yours!"

"It's okay," I said, my voice soft. "I'm okay now. I found my own way out."

Kaliyah sniffled, looking at me with tear-filled eyes. "But you didn't have to go through that by yourself. You didn't have to get hurt."

"It made me stronger," I lied, a small, defiant flicker in my chest. "It taught me a lot."

I pushed open the car door. "I need to go. I can call a cab from here."

"No!" Calvin' s voice was hoarse, desperate. He reached for me again, his hand grabbing my wrist. "Audrey, please. Don't go. Let me make it up to you. I can still make it up to you. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." His grip was surprisingly gentle this time, almost pleading.

I looked at his tear-streaked face, his broken expression. The arrogant tech mogul, reduced to a sniveling mess. It was... pathetic. And utterly unconvincing.

"Sorry?" I scoffed, a dry, bitter laugh escaping me. "Sorry for what, Calvin? For protecting your mistress over your pregnant wife? For letting my parents use me as a bargaining chip? For watching me bleed just to get free of you?" I yanked my wrist free. "Your apologies are as worthless as your promises were."

I stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut with a finality that echoed in the quiet night. Kaliyah scrambled out after me.

"Audrey, wait!" Calvin cried, his voice desperate, but I didn't look back. I hailed a passing taxi, pulling Kaliyah into the backseat with me.

As I sped away, I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror, standing alone on the sidewalk, a solitary, broken figure under the glow of a streetlight. A familiar ache resonated in my chest, not of longing, but of the lingering echoes of what once was, and what could never be again. He was begging for forgiveness, for a chance to rewrite our story. But my chapter with Calvin Bishop was closed. Permanently. The scar on my neck was proof of that.

Chapter 5

Audrey Wolfe POV:

Weeks later, the air was still thick with the sticky humidity of late summer. Kaliyah and I were at Maya's actual wedding, a lavish affair held in a sprawling botanical garden. The incident at the bachelorette party had been a blip, quickly smoothed over by Maya's frantic apologies and Calvin's absence from the main wedding guest list. Or so I thought.

We were sipping champagne, admiring the floral arrangements, when I saw him. Calvin. He was already there, impeccably dressed, chatting with some mutual acquaintances. He looked… eager. Too eager.

A friend, Jessica, walked over, raising an eyebrow at Calvin' s presence. "Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence. And alone, too. Where's the famous Brea?" she teased, playfully nudging Calvin's arm. "Isn't she usually glued to your side?"

Calvin offered a tight, forced smile. "Brea's not feeling well. Just a bit under the weather." His eyes darted nervously around the crowd. He was lying. I could feel it.

Kaliyah and I exchanged a knowing glance. Jessica, oblivious, shrugged and moved on.

We found a quiet table in the back, away from the main hubbub, and settled in. Kaliyah, still furious about my past, was deep in conversation with another friend, laughing loudly. I felt a rare sense of peace, a fragile bubble of calm.

Then, a shadow fell over our table. Calvin. He pulled up a chair, uninvited, his presence a dark cloud over my brief moment of serenity. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, not waiting for an answer.

Before I could formulate a polite refusal, a guttural shriek ripped through the air. "You bitch!"

My head snapped up. Brea.

She burst into the garden, a whirlwind of disheveled hair, smeared makeup, and a white dress that looked suspiciously like a cheap knockoff wedding gown. Her eyes, bloodshot and wild, locked onto me. She was a hurricane of rage, and I was directly in her path.

"You snake! You home-wrecker!" she screamed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "You think you can steal my husband again? You think I don't see what you're doing?"

Before I could react, she lunged. Her clawed hand shot out, raking across my face, her nails leaving angry red welts on my cheek. The force of her attack sent me stumbling backward, my chair toppling.

"You whre!" she shrieked, her voice echoing through the stunned silence of the wedding guests. "You ruined my life! You made me lose my baby! And now you want to take him too?"

Calvin, to his credit, was instantly on his feet. He grabbed Brea, pulling her back, his face a mask of shock and fury. "Brea! Stop it! What are you doing?"

He turned to me, his eyes filled with concern. "Audrey, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Before he could reach me, Kaliyah was there, pushing him aside with surprising force. "Get away from her, you piece of trash!" she snarled, then knelt beside me, helping me up. "Audrey, are you bleeding? Oh my God, look at your face!"

Calvin staggered back, his eyes wide with a mix of hurt and confusion at Kaliyah's shove. He looked between Brea, struggling in his grip, and me, bleeding, his eyes filled with a familiar, agonizing conflict.

"She's crazy, Calvin!" Brea wailed, pointing at me again, her voice cracking with desperation. "She's always been crazy! She's trying to hypnotize you! She ruined everything! Everything!"

"She RUINED everything?" Kaliyah spat, standing protectively in front of me. "You're the one who crawled into her husband's bed! You're the one who pushed her down the stairs while she was pregnant! You want to talk about ruining lives, Brea? Look in a mirror!"

Brea' s face contorted, a mask of pure hatred. "She deserved it! She deserved to lose that baby! She was cold and distant! Calvin needed me! He needed comfort!"

A cold, unfamiliar rage bloomed in my chest. The kind that made my blood run cold and my vision sharpen. "I was cold and distant?" I asked, stepping out from behind Kaliyah, my voice dangerously calm. "Or was it that I actually expected fidelity, Brea? Unlike you, who seemed perfectly comfortable with being mistress number one?"

My words hit her like a physical blow. Her eyes narrowed, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "You think you're so perfect, don't you? You think you're so much better than me?"

"I think," I said, taking a step closer, my voice dropping to a whisper that cut through the silence, "that you're a pathetic, desperate woman who built her entire life on another woman's pain. And now you're finally paying the price."

My words pierced her carefully constructed facade. Her face crumpled, her eyes filling with tears of rage and wounded pride. "You-" she shrieked, and then, completely unhinged, she broke free from Calvin's grasp, launching herself at me again.

This time, Calvin acted. He didn't just pull her back; he kicked her. A desperate, frustrated kick to her shin to stop her charge. Brea stumbled, cried out in pain, and then, with a sickening crack, she twisted her ankle, falling hard onto the cobblestone path.

A collective gasp swept through the wedding guests. Brea let out a high-pitched, agonizing scream, clutching her ankle. But it wasn't just her ankle. Her hand went to her stomach, her face contorting in a fresh wave of terror.

"My baby!" she shrieked, her voice raw with a sudden, primal fear. "No! Not again! My baby!"

Calvin froze, his face draining of all color. He stared at Brea, then at his foot, then back at her. The anger was replaced by a dawning horror. He knelt beside her, his hands hovering, unsure what to do.

"Brea, what... what are you talking about?" His voice was a strangled whisper.

"The IVF!" she sobbed, clutching her stomach. "The embryo transfer! It was today! You made me lose it, Calvin! You made me lose our baby!"

Calvin's face crumpled, a genuine, anguished cry escaping him. He scooped Brea up into his arms, ignoring the blood on her nose and the tears on her face. He just held her, a broken man holding a broken woman.

As he carried her away, Brea's cries slowly fading into the distance, he looked back at me over her shoulder. His eyes, filled with a tormented, pleading guilt, met mine. "Audrey," he choked out, his voice barely audible, "I'm so sorry. For everything."

I just stared back, unmoved. The image of him, carrying his injured, hysterical wife, was an eerie replay of another scene, five years ago. Him, protecting her. Me, left bleeding on the floor. Some things never changed.

Kaliyah, her face pale, reached out and gently brushed my hair away from my neck. Her fingers traced the faint, jagged line there. "Audrey," she whispered, her voice filled with a fresh horror, "what is this?"

My hand went to the scar. The story, the real story, was still untold. And now, it was threatening to unravel everything.

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