No Longer Bound

It wasn't until the day I was discharged that I finally learned why Ricky had lashed out at me.

As it turned out, Audrey, furious on my behalf, had retaliated by using her influence to blacklist Lindsay—Ricky's lover—across the entire industry. She even issued an official statement on behalf of the Lenza family denying the affair.

Lindsay assumed it was my doing.

That phone call yesterday—the one that set everything in motion—was her, complaining to Ricky.

To save her from embarrassment, Ricky bought her a five-million-dollar diamond at an auction that same day. Not long after, she posted a flawless picture on Instagram, showing off the jewel.

The caption read: [The man who loves me always spends like a king for me.]

Ricky liked the post.

His public show of support flipped public opinion overnight. The audience rallied behind Lindsay, painting her as the poor Cinderella caught in a web of power and wealth.

And me? I was cast as the cruel villainess in her fairy tale.

I left a comment on her post.

"You're right. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

…

Ricky's POV

When I saw Summer's comment, an unexplainable irritation surged in my chest.

Why wasn't she angry? Why didn't she scream, cry, or confront me like she used to?

Just days ago, she was calling nonstop, waiting for me when I didn't come home. Why was she suddenly so calm?

"Ricky," Lindsay cooed beside me, leaning in for a kiss, "when are you going to marry me? Didn't you tell the media I was the love of your life?"

I shot her a cold look. "You're just an actress I hired. A prop in my performance to fake an affair. You really think I love you? That I'd marry you? Don't flatter yourself. Know your place and disappear when I'm done with you. Delete that post. Now."

Then I turned and left without another word.

…

Summer's POV

Not long after I left my comment, Lindsay deleted the post.

I didn't dwell on it.

Instead, I accepted a small urn from the funeral home staff. Inside it was my mother's ashes.

After everything was settled, I brought her ashes home, ready to pack up and leave.

But when I opened the door, I saw Ricky on the sofa, seething with rage.

He had been drinking heavily, empty bottles strewn around him, one hand still dialing my number over and over.

When he saw me, he stopped, looked up, and locked eyes with me.

"Where the hell have you been?"

I didn't answer. I turned to head into the bedroom to pack.

But suddenly, he hurled his glass across the room. It shattered against the wall. He stormed toward me and grabbed my arm hard.

"I asked you a question! Where were you? Why weren't you answering my calls? Who were you with—some other man? I get it," he sneered. "You're mad I've been ignoring you, right? Fine. I'll make it up to you."

He swept everything off the coffee table and pushed me down on top of it, roughly tearing at my clothes.

I froze, panicked. "Ricky! Have you lost your mind? I just gave birth!"

He didn't listen. He bit down hard on my lip.

I struggled and shoved him with all the strength I had.

He snapped, lunged again, this time yanking my hair. But then he stopped.

He looked at my tear-streaked face, the blood on my mouth, and his expression faltered. Panic and something dangerously close to regret flickered in his eyes.

"I… I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to…"

He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, trying to touch the wound on my lip.

But just as his fingers were about to graze my skin, the front door burst open with a loud bang.

Ricky jolted, yanking his hand back. The anger returned to his eyes instantly.

Audrey stepped into the wreckage of the room. Her gaze swept over the broken glass, the bruises, the blood.

She didn't need to ask what had happened. She already knew.

Just as she opened her mouth to lash out, Ricky scoffed and looked down at me. I still lay crumpled on the floor.

"Hmph. How convenient. Your backup just showed up. I'm going to find Lindsay. I won't be coming home tonight."

And with that, he turned and walked out.

"Ricky! Stop right there!"

But he didn't. He didn't even glance back.

Audrey could only shout at his fading silhouette, her voice trembling with helpless rage, "You better be back at the family estate tomorrow!"

But her words never reached him. He was already gone.

She exhaled slowly, then knelt to help me up.

She handed me an envelope. In it was a plane ticket.

"Tomorrow's the last day," she said. "This is your flight out."

Then she looked at me, pain in her eyes.

"Tomorrow is your child's funeral. I know my brother doesn't deserve forgiveness, but that baby… he was yours. I hope you'll send him off properly, before you go."

I paused. Then nodded.

The next morning, I arrived at the family estate before dawn.

This child—my child—cost me a lot to bring into the world. And yet I never even got to hold him once before saying goodbye.

Maybe… he knew I'd done everything I could. Maybe that's why he chose to leave first—to save me from having to carry him through the wreckage of this love.

I wiped the tears from my face.

Ricky never showed up.

But Lindsay did.

She sent me a video.

In it, she clung to Ricky's arm as they chose wedding gowns together.

At the end, she sent a voice message.

"So what if you gave him a son? The only one who gets to be his wife is me. We're shooting wedding photos soon."

I didn't reply. I just forwarded the video and the message to Audrey.

Then I turned to my mother's ashes and whispered, "Mom, let's go home."

…

It was already dark when Ricky finally stumbled into the estate, reeking of alcohol.

The sight of the decoration stopped him cold.

"Who died?"

Then, a beat later, he asked, "Wait… Summer's mother? Her condition got worse? No… that can't be. I hired the best doctors in the world for her. She shouldn't have…"

Suddenly, his eyes widened. His voice cracked.

"Summer's been quiet these past two days… she must've been grieving. God, she must've been devastated. I have to go to her. She must be alone. Scared."

Before he could move, Audrey slapped him hard across the face, snapping him out of his drunken haze.

"She's gone, Ricky. Summer left… with her mother's ashes. And this… this is your son's funeral."