THE WIFE YOU LEFT

AVERY'S POV:

Today was the day. The day everything I'd sacrificed for-three years of isolation, shame, and clinging to hope-would finally be worth it. Today, Chase and I will be together again. I'd imagined it a thousand times, practically willed it into existence. He'd be there waiting, holding roses, his face soft and full of the love I'd convinced myself still lived beneath the hurt and resentment. It had to be there. He would be my reward for enduring it all.

The warden's voice cut through the waiting room. "Mrs. Avery Grayson!" Her voice loudly pulled me back from my daze.

"That's me," I blurted, jumping to my feet, my heart doing a little twirl dance. Today was the day I left behind everything-the concrete walls, the metal bars, the fluorescent lights, and that dull ache that had taken residence in my bones. I'd already showered, fixed my hair, and even put on a little makeup that one of the guards had snuck me. I wanted to look perfect. He'd appreciate the effort; he'd see that I'd held on, stayed loyal, kept the faith, kept my mouth shut. Even when it hurt. Even when he was the one making it hurt.

The warden held out a plain brown envelope, her eyes avoiding mine. My pulse quickened. It had to be something from Chase-a message, a keepsake, something personal to remind me that he hadn't forgotten me.

Eagerly, I tore open the envelope, the anticipation nearly buzzing through me. But when I finally pulled out its contents, they slipped through my fingers, fluttering to the floor like dead leaves.

Divorce papers.

And beneath them, another piece of thick, ivory card. A wedding invitation.

Chase Grayson and Astrid Russell.

That had to be a coincidence. Right? That the name on the invitation was the same as that of my sister's.

My younger sister. My flesh and blood.

I stared at the papers, willing the words to change, to mean something else. This had to be a sick joke. Chase was getting remarried? And to Astrid, of all people? No, no, this wasn't real. My chest felt tight, my pulse hammering through every vein.

"Avery Grayson," a guard's voice cut in, jolting me. "You're free to go."

Clutching the papers, I barely noticed the small bag they handed me with the few belongings I'd kept here. I bolted towards the gate, trying so hard to make meaning of everything.

Chase was waiting for me-he had to be. This was some misunderstanding, something that would be cleared up the moment I saw him. He wouldn't betray me. Not like this. He'd hurt me, yes-hurt me in every way a man could hurt a woman-but he'd never leave me. Chase had promised that he'd change. He'd written me letters, sent me small gifts. He wouldn't just... abandon me.

But as I stepped out into the bright, unkind light of freedom, reality hit me like a slap. There was no one there. No Chase. No flowers. Just a black SUV idling by the curb, windows tinted so dark I couldn't see inside.

A man in a crisp black suit approached, his expression unreadable behind sunglasses. He extended a gloved hand. "Mrs. Blackwood."