Chapter 2

2

When I got back to our place, I immediately started packing my bags.

Back when we got married, her wealthy family demanded that I move into their penthouse and take on a submissive role, and I agreed out of love.

After five years, I barely owned anything. Everything I had fit into two duffels within ten minutes.

Just as I was heading toward the door, Shelby unexpectedly walked in.

She glanced at me holding all my packed bags, completely blind to the obvious reality.

"Going on a business trip? Hold on before you leave, make me some hangover soup first."

Shelby kicked off her designer heels carelessly, tossed her coat onto the sectional, and collapsed onto the couch, already dozing off.

I glanced down at her and immediately spotted the glaring, fresh hickey stamped against her collarbone.

"Chase… don't drink so much…"

She was already drifting away, mumbling his name in her drunken stupor.

A sharp sting shot through my chest once more.

I walked closer to the couch and got a clearer look at the mark on her neck.

Chase had clearly bitten down with his teeth, purposely leaving a raw bruise that was impossible to hide.

Shelby had always recoiled from physical intimacy with me, claiming she had an extreme aversion to touch.

On countless nights, when I simply wanted to hold her while we slept, she would shove me away with disgust.

Yet now…

I let out a self-deprecating scoff, turned back toward the kitchen, and whipped up a bowl of hangover soup.

Once she finished drinking it, I would walk out that door for good.

Staying here any longer would turn me into the biggest pathetic joke in the city.

Just then, my phone buzzed with another smug text from Chase.

"Hey Declan, did Shelby make it home safely?"

"Nothing happened between us, so don't get the wrong idea. If you're mad, take it out on me, not her."

I couldn't take his sickening hypocrisy for another second.

"Are you done acting like an innocent martyr? If you wanted Shelby so badly, why did you play the fake bestie card for years?"

"I've put up with your bullshit long enough. Pull this crap in front of me again, and you'll regret it!"

I fired off a furious voice message without holding back.

Suddenly, Shelby's icy voice cut through the air behind me.

She had sobered up enough to sneak behind my back, reading Chase's message over my shoulder.

Before I could even open my mouth, her hand flew across the air and slapped me hard across the cheek.

"Chase was just worried you'd be anxious! What right do you have to cuss him out?"

"Besides, what did I even do? I just went out to have a little fun with my friend! Do you really have to throw such an embarrassing fit over this?"

I stared at her in total disbelief while the sharp sting flared on my cheek.

Shelby seemed to snap out of her drunken haze slightly, awkwardly pulling her hand back.

"Look, I'm sorry. My head was spinning just now. Don't take it to heart."

She reached out to grab my arm, scrambling to defend Chase again.

"Chase texted me saying his depression was flaring up bad, and he needed someone by his side."

"You know how dangerous an episode is… someone has to watch over him… or else…"

I gave a faint nod and cut off the rest of her excuse. "I know."

Shelby froze, instinctively tugging down her sleeve to cover the faint scars on her own wrist.

Of course I knew.

Years ago, when her own mental health collapsed, I was the one who stayed by her side day and night, dragging her out of the dark abyss.

And now, she was taking all the tenderness and devotion I gave her, and using it to pamper another man.