Stolen Locket, Stolen Heart: Her Revenge

Ava POV:

Jaxon's anger simmered, a volcano ready to erupt. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. I braced myself for the verbal assault I knew was coming. Just as his lips parted, a flash of movement outside the window caught his eye.

A figure stumbled through the downpour, drenched and shivering. It was a young woman, slender and pale, her blonde hair plastered to her face. Jaxon's fury instantly dissolved, replaced by a look of sheer panic.

"Ivory!" he gasped, his voice choked with alarm.

He turned to me, his face a mask of rage.

"Get out," he commanded, his voice cold and flat. "Now."

I didn't argue. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out into the torrential rain. The heavy drops instantly soaked through my thin dress, chilling me to the bone. Each impact was a small, stinging pain.

Jaxon followed, but he didn't spare me a glance. He opened an umbrella and hurried towards the shivering figure. He shielded her from the rain, his arm going around her shoulders. He pulled her towards the car, his movements possessive, protective.

"Come on, Ivory, you'll catch a cold," he said, his voice soft, almost tender. He led her to the passenger side, opening the door for her.

I heard her name again, a confirmation. Ivory. The Columbia student. The woman whose hair I found in his car. The woman he protected, while I stood abandoned in the rain.

Behind me, a young couple huddled under a small umbrella, laughing softly.

"Does it hurt?" the girl asked, her voice light. "That little tattoo on your wrist?"

"Only a little," the boy replied, his voice laced with affection. "But I did it for you. It's nothing."

My lower back began to throb, a dull ache spreading from my tattoo. It was a small, delicate hummingbird, a symbol of freedom and joy. Jaxon and I got matching ones when we were young, foolish, and deeply in love. He kept his covered, but I always felt mine, a constant reminder of a love that had died. Our romantic gesture, a secret shared between us, now felt like a brand of betrayal. It had lasted only three years into our first marriage.

I remembered the day I found out about the first one. It wasn't Ivory then, but his new assistant, a recent graduate with bright eyes and an eagerness to please. I walked into his office, a surprise visit with lunch, and found them. My world had shattered at that moment. The betrayal had been a physical blow.

Now, Jaxon led Ivory to the warmth of the car, his body shielding hers. He closed the door, shutting me out. He drove away, leaving me alone on the side of the road, the rain a cold, indifferent curtain falling around me.