Iris, the fragile, porcelain doll of Calvin's past, his childhood sweetheart who could do no wrong. Her battle with depression made her delicate and untouchable, a woman Calvin felt both bound to and obsessed with. She had known him for a decade longer than Amber had and a tragic car accident from their youth—one where Iris had saved his life—cemented her place as his everything. To everyone in Newark's elite circles, Iris wasn't just Calvin's Achilles' heel; she was his entire heart.
But Iris saw Calvin only as an older brother. She never reciprocated the intense, tangled feelings he harbored for her. Even their marriage—Calvin and Amber's—had to remain a carefully guarded secret, all to spare Iris any distress.
So, Calvin also had someone he loved but couldn't have. Amber didn't know if she was envious, jealous, or hateful. Looking at the drunken man before her, she let out a cold laugh and mercilessly pushed his fuzzy head away. She coaxed him into signing the divorce papers.