Chapter 3

I used to love hearing Chris’s voice.

My father was a gambler, and after he lost everything, he tried to force my mother to sell herself to pay off his debts.

She refused, and one stormy night, she fled with me. My father chased us through the streets with a knife.

In the end, she hid me in a trash bin at the alleyway’s edge, and I watched as my father hacked her to death that night.

The downpour. The endless lightning.

And my father’s eerie whistling, coaxing me out.

Those moments haunted my nightmares for years. Every time there was a thunderstorm, Chris would hold me tight, gently patting my back, whispering, "Sarah, don’t be scared."

"I’m here."

For those years, Chris became my only emotional anchor. Naturally, he became the only light in my life.

But last night, even with the storm raging outside and lightning flashing, Chris wasn’t the one comforting me anymore.

He’d forgotten that I get scared, forgotten that I need someone too.

He could wake up the next morning without any remorse, blaming me for making him look bad.

If love is something that builds over time, then not loving is like flipping an hourglass.

My hand trembled as I held my phone, staring at the now-clear sky, tears still spilling, my chest aching.

But I had to maintain my dignity. I had to hold onto what little composure I had left. So I said to Chris:

"The divorce papers are on the table."

"I’ll only take what’s rightfully mine. Nothing more."

Before he could respond, I hung up. I blocked his number and deleted his contact, breathing heavily as I realized that cutting ties with someone you’ve loved for so long was like weaning a child off milk.

But that’s okay. I was willing to let time heal me. I was ready to move forward.

I’d booked the next available flight.

To Portland, Maine. The place I’d once dreamed of moving to with Chris, where I’d imagined us living a simple life. I had asked him once, naively, if we could ever just be a regular couple, living in a small town together until we grew old.

Chris had laughed at my innocence but then turned serious.

"I don’t want to be ordinary."

"Small-town life comes with no room for error, no risks to take."

"I want to be somebody."

"I want to make you somebody, someone everyone looks up to."

Back then, Chris seemed to glow like a hero—a real-life hero, at least to me. He achieved everything he set out to do. Even though he drifted through countless flings during our five years of marriage, no one dared to speak ill of me.

He always protected me, never letting me get hurt by the women who came and went.

We had an unspoken agreement.

I would fulfill my role as Mrs. Harper, and he would always keep me in the most important spot in his life. That was enough.

But I had forgotten something.

Human nature is easily tempted. And when a new woman lights a fire in Chris, the flames will spread uncontrollably.

My once-brave knight no longer fought for me but instead turned his sword toward me.

I chose not to fight back.

I chose to walk away, giving them what they wanted.

And giving myself the freedom I needed.