Chapter 2

2.

I spent the evening peeling the stickers off the ruined parts, wiping them down with shaking hands.

Rosalie watched me, her voice trembling with a fake sob.

"Silvia, let me help. I just thought the leg looked boring. If you hate them, I'll take them off."

Before she could touch anything, Jude blocked her, his voice full of protective annoyance.

"Don't touch that. Let your sister-in-law do it herself; she's the expert. I didn't raise you to do manual labor for others."

I froze, a self-deprecating smile twitching on my lips.

"I'm fine, really," Rosalie chirped, rubbing her hand against Jude's chest. "But Jude, you shouldn't have yelled at her. Now she has to use the wheelchair again. You should make it up to her, or I'll feel so guilty."

The way she looked at him was pure, unfiltered lust.

Jude's eyes darkened with a sudden heat as he watched her walk away.

Only when she was gone did he turn back to me, clearing his throat with a guilty expression.

"You know how it is. Rosalie saved my life when we were kids. She's been hurt by guys before, so I have to look out for her. If only..."

He looked at my stump and his voice trailed off into a whisper.

I was numb. Every time she destroyed my work, he used the same excuse.

He only remembered I saved his life when he looked at my missing limb.

In the beginning, he had gotten into a street race because someone insulted Rosalie.

The brakes failed. I didn't even think; I just threw my body in front of his.

That was the moment he claimed he fell in love with me. He cried all night when he found out I was an orphan.

He promised his parents would be my parents.

But he never mentioned that his parents hated me just as much as he was starting to.

He carried me home that night, acting like I was a porcelain doll.

He even brushed my teeth for me, reminding me of the man I fell for after the accident.

That is, until I saw the suggestive texts Rosalie was sending him on his phone.

"Miss Knight, your order for the memorial urn and the medical records has been finalized. We will proceed with the plan in five days."

I listened to the coordinator on the phone and gave one final instruction.

"Make sure the pendant containing my baby's cells is attached to the urn."

Only after they confirmed did I feel a sense of peace.

"An urn? Whose urn?"

Jude had just stepped out of the shower, looking at me with a flicker of concern.

He scanned me for injuries, and seeing none, he relaxed.

We once had a child. But during the 98th time he let Rosalie ruin my work, she "accidentally" pushed me down the stairs.

That day, I was bleeding out in a hospital bed while Jude was in Rosalie's bed.

I couldn't bear to let the remains of my baby go, so I had them preserved in a crystal pendant.

Jude leaned in to kiss my neck, still fired up from Rosalie's flirting.

As his lips touched my skin, a wave of nausea hit me, and I threw up all over him.

He recoiled, a flash of pure disgust crossing his face.

"Clean yourself up. I have work at the office. I have to go."