CHAPTER TEN

Outside the apartment, the guards let go of me, and I stumble, nearly collapsing to the ground.

I couldn’t believe it. I had lost everything in the most humiliating way possible.

“This can’t be it,” I say to myself out loud. “I will make those sick bastards pay.”

The thought of revenge echoes in my mind, growing louder and angrier until it is all I can hear. 

The Crawfords had humiliated me for the last time. They thought they could cast me aside like I was nothing like I was disposable.

I could feel the blood rushing to my head, my pulse thundering in my ears. Suddenly, everything started to spin again. Before I could catch my breath, my vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness crashed over me. I tried to steady myself, but it was too late. My legs gave out beneath me, and I felt myself falling. Everything went dark.

I wake to the sterile smell of antiseptic and distant medical equipment beeping. My body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and confusion. Where was I?

“Finally, you’re awake,” a calm, unfamiliar voice said. “We were scared for a bit.”

I blink, trying to clear the haze from my mind. I was in a hospital. The bright lights, the crisp white sheets, the soft hum of machines. I try to sit up, but my body protests, weak from the strain of the last few days.

“What happened?” I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy.

“Some strangers dropped you off,” the nurse explained, her voice steady and professional. “They said you collapsed outside the building they had just moved into. You had traces of alcohol in your blood, and from what we can tell, you haven’t eaten properly for days.”

"but don't worry, we gave you a glucose drip to stabilize you. You will be fine in a couple of hours. Is there anyone we can call to pick you up? perhaps your husband?" the nurse asks, staring at my ring. 

"No! I will be fine." I say to the nurse. She notices the word husband has somehow triggered me, and she leaves the room.

The events of the past few hours started to replay in my head. The look in Jack's eyes, cold and calculated, like I was nothing more than an inconvenience, he had finally tossed aside. And then Hannah…her belly round, her smug smile, the way she looked at me with a kind of triumphant pity. Jack’s hand resting protectively over her stomach had been the final twist of the knife.

I had known Hannah for years, laughed with her, shared stories, and even confided in her when things got rough with Jack. How could I have been so blind?

She was everything I wasn’t, all stunning, with a face and body that seemed crafted by some meticulous artist. Her hair, black and curly, fell across her shoulders effortlessly every time I saw her.

When I first noticed her spending time with Jack had increased, it didn’t sit well with me. Something about it felt off. But she was so convincing, soothing my worries with laughter and warm reassurances, making me feel foolish for doubting her. I swallowed every word she’d said like the naïve fool I was.

The memories tumbled over each other, crashing like waves. Jack’s sudden, frequent business trips, the endless excuses about late nights, and ‘difficult investors.’ I had clung to those excuses, and they were laughing at me behind my back, sneaking around, building their new life while I fought to save the scraps of our marriage. I gripped the hospital sheets, my knuckles white with anger. I’d been fighting for something that had ended long ago.

Then I remembered the broken glass. The satisfaction of seeing it fly across the room, of watching Jack jump to shield her, the tiny cut that formed on his cheek. A smile spread across my face.

At least, in those final moments, I’d shown them a piece of my anger, my pain. I’d proven, if only for an instant, that I wouldn’t go quietly. Not anymore.

“Rachael!” I heard a familiar voice, and I looked up to see Amy, her face creased with worry, standing by the door. She rushed over, her arms wrapping around me in a tight hug. “I was so worried about you!” She pulled back, studying my face with a searching look. “Are you okay?”

I tried to sit up, forcing a smile, but Amy’s hands pushed me back gently, insisting I stay lying down. “What are you doing here? How did you even know where I was?”

“I am still one of your emergency contacts. Someone from the hospital called, and I came as soon as possible.” She started adjusting the pillows around me, trying to make me more comfortable, her eyes full of concern. “What happened, Racheal? With Jack?”

I felt the tears welling up before I could stop them, and before I knew it, the whole story spilled out. The betrayal, the humiliation, Hannah, the broken glass, the cold dismissal. I tried to hold back the tears, but they came anyway, flowing down my cheeks as I told her everything. Amy listened in silence, her face a mask of anger and disbelief.

After a long pause, she muttered, “That son of a… I swear, I’m going to kill him.”

I gave a small, choked laugh, but my heart felt too heavy to feel any true relief. 

Amy broke the silence, her voice steady and firm. “You know what? You’re coming with me. You’ll stay at our place until we figure something out. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“What about Ethan? You know his loyalty will always be with Jack. I don’t want to bring him into this mess.”

Amy’s eyes darkened, and she reached out, squeezing my hand fiercely. “Rachel, that’s my house too. And if Ethan thinks so much of telling Jack you are staying with us, he’ll have me to deal with it. He doesn’t control who I help. You’re my best friend, and I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

Her words washed over me, a balm for the raw wound Jack had left. I nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion lift a little. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. The idea of returning to my parents’ house made my stomach churn. I knew exactly how that would go: accusations and blame as if Jack’s betrayal was somehow my fault.

Amy pulled me into another hug, and I let myself rest against her, the room growing quiet. I knew the coming days would be hard, that I’d have to face the future alone for the first time in years. But as I clung to Amy, the faint stirrings of strength whispered through the anger and heartbreak. I wasn’t alone. Not completely.