I laughed bitterly, pointing straight at Lilith. “She came at me with that gun. I never even touched her!”

Lilith burst into sobs, cradling her hand. “Sabrina, I know you don’t like me, but why would you do this? I was just trying to be nice.”

Caleb’s expression darkened. He bent, picked up the gun and turned it toward me—pointed it at me.

I froze. The air thinned.

His eyes were cold. Unfamiliar.

His eyes were cold. Unfamiliar. Like I was looking at a stranger wearing my husband’s skin.

“Is this a joke to you?!”

“You think I’d believe an athlete—an Olympian-in-training—would accidentally pull the trigger?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Do you have any idea what it means if her hand is injured? What it could cost her career?”

My throat burned. “I told you—I never touched the gun!” I met his eyes, fury hot in my chest. “You believe her? Just like that?”

Caleb let out a bitter laugh, the kind that sounded like it hurt on the way out.

“You think Lilith would lie about this? She’s a national-level competitor. If her hand’s ruined, can you pay that price?!”

“So now what?” My voice cracked. “You’re gonna point a gun at me? Caleb—I’m your wife. Five years!”

He didn’t answer. His finger twitched.

Bang!

A plastic training round tore past my face. Heat exploded along the side of my head. A sharp, blinding pain bloomed in my ear.

I stumbled back, hand flying up.

Blood. My fingers came away red.

Caleb’s hand trembled slightly, as if even he hadn’t expected the shot to land.

He straightened, masking it behind a chilling calm. “Don’t mess around with things you don’t understand. That was just a warning.”

I laughed. It came out broken and tears blurred my vision.

“You’re right,” I whispered. “I don’t understand guns… and I sure as hell don’t understand you!”

Caleb flinched. For a brief second, something flickered in his eyes. Regret, maybe. Too late.

***

ER Waiting Room

The antiseptic air stung worse than the wound. I sat on a stiff plastic bench, ears ringing like a swarm of bees had taken up residence in my skull.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” The doctor leaned in, raising his voice.

I blinked, then nodded slowly.

“You’ve got a surface burn near the ear. You’re lucky—it didn’t rupture anything, but you’ll have ringing for a few days. Might scar, though.”

My fingers hovered near the wound. It was warm. Wet. Pain bloomed at the slightest touch.

“Do you have anyone we can call?”

My mind blanked, until all I could see was the image of Caleb walking away, Lilith clinging to him.

I felt something tear open in my chest.

I gave a soft laugh, bitter as ash. “They’re all dead.”

The doctor froze. Clearly, he didn’t know how to respond.

I smiled faintly, waved him off. “Just wrap me up. I’ll manage.”

When I stepped out of the room, I passed by another door left half-open.

Lilith’s voice drifted out—fragile, pleading.

“What if… what if I can’t shoot again, Caleb? What if my hand’s ruined? What will I do?”

His voice followed, low and steady. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. It’s a minor injury. You’ll recover.”

“But I’m scared…” Her voice cracked. “If I lose this… will you think I’m worthless? I won’t even deserve to stand beside you anymore.”

He sighed, voice softening. “Of course not. I’d never think that.”

He never asked if I was okay. Never looked for me. But here he was—soothing her like she was porcelain.

I turned to leave. But then—Lilith’s voice again, hesitant.

“Caleb… would you ever consider… letting me take over as your manager? I don’t need to be your wife. But can’t I stay by your side… even just as that?”

There was a pause.

Caleb murmured something I couldn’t make out.

And then—Lilith’s soft, triumphant laughter.

“I just want to stay near you, Caleb. You know I’d do anything for you…”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

A text from my lawyer: Divorce finalized. Papers filed.

I exhaled slowly, then pulled the envelope from my bag and placed it at the threshold of their room.

When I walked out of that hospital, I didn’t look back. I went home, grabbed my bags and booked a one-way ticket out of the city.

“Caleb, let’s pretend I never walked into that shooting range seven years ago.”

“Let’s pretend we never met.”

The faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the hospital air.

Lilith sat at the edge of the cot, voice trembling but urgent. “Caleb, I’m not asking to be your wife. But… can’t I be your manager? I just want to stay with you…”

Caleb’s jaw tightened. His eyes met hers—deep, conflicted.

Then, slowly, he shook his head.

“No, Lilith. She’s the only one I want as my manager.”

Lilith froze. Tears welled, clinging to her lashes.

“You mean… Sabrina?”

“She’s the one I chose,” he said firmly. “I promised her. That role doesn’t belong to anyone else.”

Lilith looked like she’d been slapped. She couldn’t understand. Even after everything, after he’d hurt me himself—he still wouldn’t let go of me.

Caleb dropped his gaze, rubbing at the rough calluses on his palm.

He thought back to the first time we met.

He’d been nobody. A no-name kid with a secondhand rifle and no one who believed in him—not his coach, not his family. They all thought it was a waste of time.

It was a blazing hot summer. He’d just bombed a national qualifier, missed three rings in a row. Defeated, he wandered off the range and sat on the back steps alone, ready to quit.

That’s when I found him.

“You giving up already?” I had asked, standing there in a white shirt, calm but steady.

He looked up, stunned.

“Your hand’s steady,” I’d said. “You just need someone to show you how to use it.”

Then I held out my hand. “Let me be your manager. Let’s build a champion together.”

And just like that, he believed.

From that day forward, there was only me.

Back in the present, his eyes sharpened. “Lilith, you don’t understand. Sabrina stood by me through hell. She’s the reason I made it this far.”

Lilith’s lips trembled. “But… during the Olympics, those nights—you and me—didn’t that mean anything?”

“That was a mistake!” Caleb’s voice cracked like thunder. “I was drunk. I thought you were her. Lilith, I’ve never seen you as anything but a little sister. Stop pushing this.”

Her body trembled.

Tears spilled. “A sister? Do you let your sister hold you like this? Whisper to them like this?”

He hesitated, clearly wanting to leave.

But then Lilith threw herself at him, arms wrapping tight around his waist.

“Please! I know I’m not her. I’m not asking for love or titles. Just let me stay by your side. Don’t push me away…”

Caleb froze—arms suspended in midair.

But he didn’t push her off.

Just then, the examination room door creaked open.

“Mr. Murdaugh, Miss Ashmore,” the nurse said gently, poking her head in. “The next doctor’s ready for shift change.”

The tension in the room shattered like glass.

Caleb blinked as if snapping out of a trance, then released Lilith. His voice was calm, flat. “Come on. Let’s get your scan done.”

Lilith didn’t answer. She kept her head low, eyes glossy, shoulders slumped like a kicked dog.

They walked out one after another, the silence between them thick enough to choke on. But just as Caleb stepped through the door, something crinkled beneath his shoe.

A stack of papers, scattered across the floor like fallen leaves.

He paused.

The top page was white, creased at the corners, I’d held it so long it had molded to my grip. But it wasn’t the paper that made him freeze—it was the red ink, the familiar curves of two signatures that punched the air out of his lungs.

Caleb stooped down, picked it up.

His gaze locked on the title.

Divorce Agreement.

Time stopped. The letters seemed to blur.

He scanned the page, breath caught somewhere between his ribs.

The date. Signed… seven days ago. 

His hand trembled. The document nearly slipped through his fingers.

That was the day I came back from hell. The day I walked out of the hospital with bruises still blooming and resolve already planted.

I’d made up my mind.

His pulse roared in his ears and before he could even think, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Caleb fumbled it out, answering without looking.

“Hello?”

“Caleb, it’s me,” his coach said, a weary edge in his voice. “I just got notified. Sabrina handed in her resignation this morning. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was firm. From now on, you’ll be sharing an agent with the other athletes.”

The floor dropped out from under him.

“I thought you two had talked,” the coach said, confused. “She said she wouldn’t be managing your sponsorships anymore—that someone from the agency would take over.”

“That’s not possible!” His voice rose, raw and furious. “She wouldn’t just quit—she wouldn’t do that without telling me!”

“Hey—Caleb, calm down,” the coach said quickly. “Look, I was surprised too, but she looked… resolute. Like she’d made that decision long ago.”

Caleb's vision blurred. His lungs struggled to keep pace with the wild hammering of his heart. He turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor, voice tight with panic as he barked at the front desk nurse.

“The woman who came in earlier—the one who had her ear bandaged. Where is she?”

The nurse blinked at his tone, startled. “Miss Hartley? She left already. About half an hour ago.”

He stared at the divorce papers in his hand, her signature clean and deliberate. It sliced straight through his chest.

Seven days ago.

I made up my mind seven days ago.

Why?

Because he hadn’t once said my name on that podium.

Because when cameras flashed, he held her.

Because when the world was watching, he let them believe she was the one.

He staggered back, heart threatening to claw out of his chest. His fingers moved on instinct, pulling up her contact. He pressed call.

One ring.

Then the cold voice of the operator punched him in the face.

“We’re sorry. The number you’ve dialed has blocked your call.”

Caleb stood there in stunned silence.

Blocked?

She’d blocked him?

His jaw clenched. Eyes reddening, he gripped the phone like he could crush it in his palm.

“Sabrina… you blocked me?” he whispered. “You actually blocked me…”