I sat frozen, phone still in my hand, dazed as if trapped in a nightmare. None of it seemed real. If that man hadn’t stormed into my life, I would never have believed Victoria—the woman who had once staked everything on me—was unfaithful.
How could the wife who had emptied her savings to send me to a world-class hospital now betray me? My chest tightened as if torn in half. With trembling fingers, I messaged Susan Emerson, my father’s most trusted lawyer:
“I want to preserve the assets. Check Victoria’s accounts. She’s cheating.”
The moment I sent it, pain tore through me, sharp and suffocating.
That night, Victoria finally came home. She sat across from me, silent, stiff, her eyes cold.
I stared at her, searching for her face. My mind replayed a distant memory—her at eighteen, plucking wildflowers by the roadside and handing them to me with a radiant smile:
“I’ll always give Lucas Emerson flowers, just as I’ll always love him.”
The memory cut deep. My eyes burned red with grief, the pain unbearable.
Victoria’s gaze faltered. The arrogance drained away, replaced by guilt. Her lips trembled, her eyes helpless. Finally, she whispered:
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”