The money she'd earned had kept them comfortable for the better part of their lives, yet he still stuck her in a six-bed ward. Night after night, she lay awake, unable to sleep through the beeping monitors and the restless stirring of strangers.
It wasn't until the day he walked in with divorce papers that she finally understood. He had hated her all along.
Hated her for that phone call. Hated her for occupying the title of his wife. Hated her for not dying sooner.
"You're the one who asked for a divorce. What's the point of rehashing all this?"
Corey blinked, caught off guard. His Adam's apple bobbed once before he turned away.
"Fine. After the band finishes the National Championship, we'll go to City Hall and file."
Caroline couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
He didn't even know he'd already lost his entry ticket.
Then again, why would he? In her previous life, she was the one who'd registered the band, quietly bankrolled the whole thing, and personally dragged him to dinners with the organizers and judges. Corey probably thought the championship trophy was already sitting there with his name on it.
One of the other band members perked up, as if suddenly remembering something.