I came out of the restroom and headed down to the lobby on the first floor, and then I heard Kirsten's voice.

"Let go of me."

I turned to look and saw her being dragged by the arm by some scruffy man.

I studied him for a moment before I placed him. It was Jude. I turned to leave. Whatever was going on between them was none of my business.

But Kirsten spotted me and called out.

"Mick!"

Then she wrenched herself free of Jude, rushed to my side, and grabbed my arm, pleading.

"Mick, help me."

Before I could say anything, Jude came sauntering toward me, a cigarette between his fingers.

"Well, if it isn't my wife's little childhood sweetheart, Mick Lyons. When did you get back? Already cozying up to my wife, are you?"

I frowned.

Twenty years gone, a man in his thirties now, and Jude hadn't matured an inch. If anything, he was worse than before.

"Mick, help me." Kirsten clung to my arm and begged again.

I looked at her and shook my head. "This is between the two of you. It's not my place."

The color drained from her face, tears welling in her eyes. "Mick..."

"Get over here. Now." Jude roared. "You think just because Mick Lyons is back you can get away from me? You're my wife."

Kirsten flinched, and her grip on my arm tightened hard.

"No. I'm not going. I want a divorce."

I stared at her, startled.

I didn't know what had happened between her and Jude over these twenty years, but the thought lasted barely a second before something bitter turned over inside me.

They were husband and wife. I was the outsider. How they'd spent those twenty years had nothing to do with me.

"What did you just say?"

Jude flung his cigarette to the floor.

"You worthless little bitch. Hook up with your old flame and think you can divorce me? I'll beat the life out of you."

He reached out to grab a fistful of Kirsten's hair.

"Ah!"

She shrieked in terror and scrambled to hide behind me.

Inside, I let out a breath. However little I felt for her now, I couldn't just stand there and watch her be beaten in front of me.

I blocked Jude and said coldly, "Hitting a woman isn't something a man does."

He looked at me, then at Kirsten cowering behind me, and suddenly laughed.

"Mick Lyons, you really are hopeless, aren't you. Twenty years, and you still haven't forgotten her."

"Fine. I'll do you both a favor. Hand over five hundred grand and I'll divorce her. I'm sick of her anyway."

My face darkened. "If you can't talk straight, keep your mouth shut."

Jude gave a short scoff, pulled out another cigarette, and lit it.

"You've got three minutes to think it over. Otherwise I call the police and tell them you abducted my wife. I'll make it front-page news."

"Tsk, tsk. World-class bridge designer barely back in the country and already stealing another man's wife. Mm, that's a nice headline."

"Mick Lyons, what do you think?"

At that, my eyes went colder still.

Thud!

Kirsten suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me, sobbing.

"Mick, I'm begging you, just agree to him. Otherwise he'll beat me to death."

She lifted her head and looked at me through her tears.

"Mick, I regret it so much. Twenty years ago I should have listened to you. With a community college degree, I hit a wall everywhere I looked for work. All I could get was cleaning jobs, the dirty, exhausting kind."

"And him!"

Kirsten pointed at Jude, who was standing there smoking. "Before I married him, he promised he'd work hard and take care of me. But after the wedding, all he did was drink or go out playing cards with a pack of good-for-nothing friends."

"When he ran out of money he'd come to me for it, and when I wouldn't give it to him, he'd hit me. He's beaten me until there isn't a single part of me left unbruised."

As she spoke, she pushed up her sleeve, baring the scars and the purple-black marks on her arm.

My pupils contracted, and something in my chest twisted hard. But it lasted only an instant before I was calm again.

She chose this road herself. Having chosen it, she had to live with where it led.

"Mick."

Kirsten clutched at the leg of my trousers, her pale face streaked with tears.

"You're the only one who can save me now. I swear, from now on I'll stay by your side forever, always. I'll do anything you say."

I shook my head and pried her fingers loose one by one. "Kirsten, I can't help you, and I won't help you."

"Do you remember what you said to me twenty years ago? That there was nothing left between us."

"Today, I'm giving those same words back to you."

With that, I turned and started toward the door.

"No! Mick, you can't be this heartless to me."

Kirsten's cry rose behind me, and then Jude's cursing followed. "Shameless piece of trash. He thinks you're used goods, he doesn't want you."

"Hand over the money you made today, or I'll beat you to death."

My steps stopped. In the end, I didn't look back.

Kirsten was Kirsten. I was me.

Twenty years ago she had cut the bond between us with her own hands.

Even so, it still cast a shadow over the welcome dinner that evening.

Seeing that I was in low spirits, Roderick asked, "Did something happen?"

I was about to shake my head when a wave of reporters suddenly poured in, jostling their way up to me, their microphones nearly shoved into my face.

"Mr. Lyons, after more than twenty years, are you still unable to let go of that old love?"

"Mr. Lyons, is Ms. Henson the reason you came back to the country this time?"

"Mr. Lyons, Ms. Henson is already married. Are you trying to come between her and her husband?"

"Mr. Lyons—"

"—"

The questions came one after another, and I stood frozen. Then, as if I'd sensed something, I turned sharply toward the corner of the banquet hall.

Kirsten was still in her cleaning uniform from that afternoon, and the look in her eyes was pure hatred.

She mouthed the words at me:

"If you won't save me, I'll drag you down to hell with me!"