He Betrayed Me, So He Crawled Back to Me

I woke up to Keith pressing his lips against mine. Disgust churned in my stomach, but I forced myself to stay still, unwilling to argue. He carried me to the bed before heading to the dining area, where breakfast was already prepared.

There was a time I saw this as love. A sweet gesture from a devoted husband. Now, I know better.

Keith was always the kindest when he had something to feel guilty about. He would shower me with gifts—designer bags, expensive jewelry, things I once thought were tokens of his affection. I used to believe I was spoiled, cherished.

But l just learned upon checking his things that those gifts were freebies. Promotional items from brands he actually spent his money on—for Sasha. The real luxuries, the truly expensive things, were never meant for me.

I had been nothing but an afterthought.

“I’ll be gone for a week. Business meetings,” he signed, setting a plate in front of me.

There was one time where I was over the moon when I had learned he worked so hard on learning sign language just so he could talk to me. But it turned out to be just a plan, so he could hide what he had done to me.

“I feel bad leaving you alone," he signed again.

I nodded, pretending to believe his concern. Pretended not to notice. Keith thought I was still deaf and paralyzed. Let him think that... until I was gone.

I picked at my food as he kissed my forehead, then he signed again, “Be good while I’m gone.”

I forced a smile. He left. The moment the door shut, I stood from my wheelchair. On the seat, I left the divorce papers then I packed. My clothes. My jewelry. The things that mattered. Everything else? He could burn with it.

Finally, I heard a knock. The limousine had arrived. I didn’t look back as I walked out of that house for the last time

My mother was waiting at the entrance of the Covey estate.

The moment I stepped out of the car, she embraced me tightly. “Welcome home, my dear.”

Home. I didn’t know if I could call it that yet.

Inside, everything had already been arranged. The staff moved swiftly, following my mother’s every command. A new wardrobe, a team of stylists, a detailed program for the next week banquet where the world was going to know me as Covey.

Later that evening, I scrolled through my phone, mindlessly checking updates. A notification popped up—Live Now: Fireworks by the Beach.

I almost ignored it. Then I saw them. Keith and Sasha. Side by side, smiling, wrapped in each other. My grip tightened around the phone. A week-long business trip, huh?

The fireworks burst behind them, painting the night sky in brilliant gold and crimson. The kind of grand, romantic spectacle I had once dreamed of experiencing with Keith.

I had asked before. I remembered it clearly—how I once told him I wanted to watch the fireworks with him, how I imagined sitting by the shore, wrapped in his arms, listening to the waves beneath the bursts of light.

His response had been gentle but firm. It’s not good for your health, Katherine. The crowds, the noise—you wouldn’t enjoy it.

I had believed him. But now? Now, I know better. It wasn’t about my health. It was about who he wanted to do those things with.

And it was never me. I closed the video. This wasn’t my concern anymore.

The next few days passed in a blur. Keith didn’t text. Not even once. I wasn’t surprised. He would when he realized I was missing. But by then, it would be too late.

Instead of waiting, I focused on my transformation.

A new haircut, subtle changes to my features, adjustments to my wardrobe. The goal wasn’t to erase myself completely, just enough to ensure no one could easily connect Katherine Ambrose to Katherine Covey.

Finally, the banquet arrived. Dressed in an elegant evening gown, I stepped into the waiting limousine.

I expected to be alone.

I wasn’t. Sitting inside, relaxed and composed, was Jeron Kavinsky.

Keith’s biggest business rival. The man he had spent years trying to outmaneuver, whose name he cursed whenever another deal slipped through his fingers. Jeron was everything Keith wanted to be—richer, more powerful, untouchable.

And now, he was here. My breath caught as our eyes met. Out of all people, I hadn’t expected him.

Jeron tilted his head slightly, studying me with interest, his piercing blue eyes gleaming under the soft car lights.

Then, he smirked.

“I’m your fiancé,” he said smoothly, his voice low, confident, completely at ease.

I stiffened. My fiancé? What a great timing!