Chapter 3

3 A marriage cannot survive when only one person is trying.

Emboldened by Garrett's favoritism, Lindy grew bolder and more brazen.

She constantly texted me pictures from her dates with Garrett.

At first, it was just photos of them holding hands, then kissing, and eventually photos of them tangled in bed together.

"So what if you wear his ring? Garrett only loves me."

"His heart belongs solely to me!"

Whenever she sent those texts, I used to fire back with fiery words.

Yet every time I took the evidence to confront Garrett, he brushed it off.

He accused me of blowing things out of proportion, threatening to divorce me if I kept making scenes.

Then came the day Lindy sent me an ultrasound picture.

"Garrett is going to be a daddy. He promised he would divorce you for good."

I reached my breaking point.

That was why I posted my wedding ring on Instagram, desperate to defend my rightful place as his wife.

I had no idea I had walked straight into Lindy's trap.

She was never pregnant in the first place.

It was merely an excuse for her to stage a dramatic breakdown.

While Garrett was in the shower, Lindy walked over to the shredded wedding portrait.

With a smug grin, she snapped a photo on her phone and texted it to my number.

"You mean absolutely nothing to Garrett!"

When I did not reply, she recorded a video showing off our new bedroom and sent that too.

She was desperate to push me over the edge.

I wondered why she was still so obsessed with tormenting me if Garrett had already agreed to divorce me.

When Garrett stepped out of the bathroom, Lindy instantly transformed back into a fragile, helpless lamb.

Men could never resist that innocent, vulnerable look.

"Garrett, can you please stay here with me tonight?"

Garrett handed her a glass of warm water.

"I need to go back to the office to handle some urgent work. It might take all night."

"I will come back to see you tomorrow."

Tears instantly welled up in Lindy's eyes.

She whined and clung to him for another thirty minutes before finally letting him leave.

Garrett didn't head to his office, though.

Instead, he drove back to the old apartment we shared before the wedding.

The second he walked inside, he loosened his tie and threw his jacket onto the couch.

"Corina, haven't you had enough of your tantrum? How dare you ignore my texts?"

When had he texted me?

While he was in the shower, perhaps?

"Is my late-night soup ready? Bring it out, I'm starving."

On typical worknights, knowing how exhausted he was, I always prepared warm, nourishing soup for him.

Now I realized the bitter truth.

Every time Garrett came home late, he had spent the evening keeping Lindy company.

When no one answered in the silent apartment, his temper flared.

He stood up and searched every room for me.

There was no trace of my existence.

A flash of my soaked, lifeless body on the boat crossed his mind.

His fists clenched tightly.

"Playing hide-and-seek with me? Fine, see if I care."

When the police called, Garrett was lounging on the sofa, browsing designer handbags online for Lindy.

The detective on the line informed him with grave seriousness.

A woman's body had been pulled from the shore, and evidence suggested it was his wife. They needed him at the station immediately.

Garrett froze for a second before a sneer curled onto his lips.

"You have the wrong person."

"Corina loves pulling dramatic stunts just to get my attention."

The detective patiently explained that preliminary identification had already been made, emphasizing the urgency.

Garrett gave an annoyed grunt and hung up, muttering curses under his breath about my childish games.

Just as he pulled up my number to call me, Lindy rang him instead.

Her voice sounded sweet yet trembling with fear.

"Garrett, I'm so scared of the dark alone. Can you come over right now?"

Garrett's tone softened instantly into pure tenderness.

"Don't be scared, baby. I'm on my way."

Garrett dismissed the police call entirely, grabbed his keys, and drove back toward the new house.

Just as he parked outside to go upstairs, several police officers blocked his path.

The lead detective looked stern and grim.

"Garrett Vance? You need to come with us to the station regarding Corina Vance's case."

Garrett's eyes widened in annoyance.

"Are you people serious? She's faking it! I'm busy right now, stop wasting my time!"

Lindy, hearing the commotion outside, came down just in time to see the confrontation.

Ignoring his protests, the officers escorted both Garrett and Lindy into the police cruiser.

All the way to the precinct, Lindy kept whining, insisting Corina was just acting out another drama.

Garrett, however, bit his lip and stayed dead silent.

I knew the truth.

He was finally beginning to feel real terror.

At the precinct, an officer stared at him with a somber expression.

"You should identify the body in the morgue first. Things are not what you think."

Garrett's heart dropped, an icy dread creeping up his spine, but he still sneered defensively. "Fine, let's see how far her little act goes!"

He followed the officer toward the morgue, his footsteps echoing ominously down the dim hallway.

His heart hammered against his ribs, heavy with a terrible premonition.

The heavy morgue doors creaked open, releasing a blast of freezing, sterile air.

Seeing the shape beneath the white sheet, Garrett's feet hesitated.

He stepped forward slowly, his trembling hand lifting the edge of the sheet.

When he saw my familiar, bloodless face, his hand froze solid in midair.