Chapter 3

Determined to stay close to him, I worked tirelessly to get into the same college as Lucas.

My dad even approved of him.

In my father’s eyes, Lucas was a rare talent—someone worth supporting.

With my dad’s encouragement, I finally mustered the courage to confess my feelings to Lucas.

He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t reject me outright, either.

Blinded by my feelings, I convinced myself that we were in a relationship.

Lucas had a younger sister, Sarah Rivers. I’d known about her since high school.

She wasn’t his biological sister. She was adopted by Lucas’s uncle, who raised her as his own.

But what I didn’t know was that Sarah and Lucas had grown up together, and before starting high school, Lucas’s uncle had abruptly taken her away.

On the day of our wedding, Sarah suddenly reappeared.

She walked into the reception barefoot, covered in bruises and scratches, her blue dress stained with blood.

Tears streamed down her face as she looked at Lucas and cried, “I escaped, Lucas. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

And just like that, the ring Lucas was about to place on my finger slipped from his hand.

That night, my wedding night, Lucas didn’t come home.

Instead, he stayed at the hospital with Sarah.

I swallowed my bitterness and forced myself to accept it. After all, I was the one who had been chasing him all this time.

The next morning, I changed into fresh clothes and prepared to visit the hospital.

But before I could leave, my father stopped me at the door.

“You’re going to the hospital, aren’t you? Don’t you dare. No daughter of mine will let herself be humiliated like this!”

I begged him, tears streaming down my face. By then, I was already in too deep.

Lucas had given me just enough attention over the years to fill my head with beautiful memories. I couldn’t let go.

When I finally arrived at the hospital, I learned something that shocked me to my core.

Sarah wasn’t Lucas’s uncle’s daughter.

Years ago, Lucas’s uncle had sent her away because their relationship had crossed the line.

They weren’t siblings—they were lovers.

Lucas’s uncle had sent Sarah abroad and forbidden her from contacting Lucas, threatening to cut her off entirely if she disobeyed.

Sarah had spent years working to free herself from her adoptive father’s control, determined to reunite with Lucas.

On the day of my wedding, she had escaped and returned to him.

I covered my mouth in horror as I listened to the story, then stumbled back to our empty marital home.

When Lucas finally came back, I asked him for a divorce.

But he refused. Instead, he insisted on consummating our marriage that night.

What followed was a day of physical and emotional torment. Lucas showed no tenderness, and when he was done, he fell into a deep sleep, leaving me alone to cry in the dark.

I slapped myself across the face, trying to wake up from the nightmare my life had become.

But I couldn’t.

So I told myself I’d try one more time.

That “one more time” turned into eight years.

Eight years of a marriage where I was nothing more than a third wheel to Lucas and Sarah.

I was exhausted, drained, and ready to leave.

But before I could file for divorce, Sarah and I were kidnapped together.

And in that nightmare, I lost the child I had prayed for all those years.

When I woke up in the hospital, my father’s hair had turned gray overnight.

But soon, an even more devastating piece of news arrived.

Somehow, during the beatings and torture I endured, a tumor in my stomach had ruptured.

The cancer had spread.

At best, I had three months left to live.