After Seven Years of Loving You, I Choose Myself

He spat those words and walked out.

I pulled on my clothes. The pain across my body and the pain inside my chest braided together until everything went numb.

I threw a few of my only remaining clothes into a suitcase and dragged it toward the door, but Georgina blocked my path.

Her eyes were rimmed red. She seized my hand, dropped to her knees in front of me, and sobbed so hard she could barely speak.

"Eudora, Warren and I are legally married. We're husband and wife. Why would you slander me like this? Do you want me dead?"

I tried to wrench my hand free, but she only gripped tighter. Her nails dug in until they nearly broke skin.

The next second, her body pitched backward and a shriek tore through the room.

The same old trick. And Warren fell for it every single time.

Sure enough, he came charging in. He shoved me aside. My body was too weak to absorb the force, and I stumbled into the wall. A vicious cramp ripped through my lower abdomen. My vision went black.

"Eudora Fox, you've lost your mind." He scooped Georgina into his arms and roared at me. "Once wasn't enough, so you try again? Do you actually want to kill her baby?"

Before I could open my mouth, he snatched my phone, opened my social media, pasted in a statement his assistant had drafted, and hit post.

I'm the other woman. I'm the shameless one who threw herself at Mr. Stephens and refused to let go. Everything was my own doing. The woman he loves is Georgina. She is, and always has been, the rightful Mrs. Stephens.

After the post went through, he hurled the phone at my feet.

I crouched down and picked it up. A new message had come in. From my brother.

Dora, we've arrived in Northbank. Thirty minutes out. We're coming to take you home.

My nose stung. I didn't want to hear anything, didn't want to explain anything. I just wanted to leave.

The moment I turned to go, Georgina cried out from Warren's arms. "Warren, my stomach hurts so much."

His expression changed instantly. He forgot I existed, gathered her up, and rushed for the door.

At the threshold, he stopped and gave his bodyguards an order.

"Lock her in the chapel. Whip her. Don't stop until I get back."

Two bodyguards seized me and dragged me to the family chapel.

I fought with everything I had, but they forced me into a chair. The first lash landed across my back. The pain swallowed every other thought. I forgot how to breathe. Cold sweat rolled down my face.

The will to survive ripped something open inside me. I tore free of their grip, grabbed a bamboo splinter from the table, and pressed it against my throat.

"Get back."

My voice shook. My eyes did not.

"Take one step closer and I die right here. When Warren walks in and sees my body, every last one of you goes down with me."

The bodyguards froze. They had worked for Warren for years. They knew exactly what kind of person I was.

After a long, taut silence, they stepped aside.

I staggered out of the villa. The sky split open without warning, wind howling, rain crashing down in sheets.

I was soaked in seconds. My thin clothes clung to every wound, cold and burning at the same time. But I smiled. And I kept walking.

I pulled out my phone and loaded the videos I had recorded.

Georgina never imagined that after her first stunt, I had bought a hidden camera. Every word she said, every move she made, captured in perfect clarity.

I set them on a timer to send to Warren, then dropped the phone into the rain.

The downpour only grew heavier. I kept moving forward. My vision blurred, then blurred again, and just as my legs were about to give out,

dozens of black sedans pulled up in a perfect line and stopped in front of me.

The door of the lead car swung open. A familiar figure sprinted out and caught me before I hit the ground.

My brother.

He saw me drenched, battered, white as a ghost, and his eyes went red. His voice broke apart.

"Dora... Warren Stephens did this to you. This is my fault. All my fault for not finding you sooner."

I leaned into his chest and used the last scrap of strength I had to smile at him.

"It's okay. I just want to go home."

Then the darkness took me.

At the hospital, Warren sat at Georgina's bedside. Only after the doctor confirmed for the third time that she had merely been frightened and the baby was fine did he let himself exhale.

He took out his phone, expecting to find a message from me. An apology, maybe.

There was nothing. Not a single word. I hadn't even deleted the statement he'd posted from my account.

The silence was wrong. All of it was wrong. An irritation he couldn't name crawled under his skin.

It hadn't occurred to him that three hours had passed since he'd locked me in the chapel.

It hadn't occurred to him that the order he'd given his bodyguards was still supposed to be in effect.

His phone rang. The bodyguard's voice came through, trembling.

"I'm sorry, sir. We didn't carry out your orders regarding Ms. Fox. She held a blade to her own throat. We had no choice but to let her go."