Marrying The Protector: My Second Chance

der the thick glass partition, her expression flat, and said the words that ended my life: "Ma'am, I cannot renew a l

ealed he remarried three years ago, having a son with his new wife

n who already had one. Pregnant, Jackson pushed me at a gala, p

e kept me as a "PR shield," letting me mourn a fut

arranged, my past cremated. Lena Rose was born in France,

pte

na

t me like I was stupid, or pe

ick glass partition, her expression fla

ed name. Your marital status in the system is li

n the roo

Waiting for her to smile, to apologize, to tell me

d my forehead this morning, tender and lingering,

not di

as if it were coming from underwater. "My husband is

y sound of a bureaucrat ex

clacking against the keys like hail on a tin roof

ted three years ago

icured finger at

next day. To a Miss Candida Lewis. The

noleum floor before my brai

't fee

t feel

nd was still frantically trying to catch up to the re

e ye

en playing house with a m

to conceive a child with a man who

about the way Leo, the driver, had looked

n't re

as p

. Every

f people behind me was grumbling, shifting their weight, checking th

ust the woman ho

o go," I

ra

he blinding afternoon sun. It was cruel how bright the world w

r the parking lot, my expensi

cture of Jackson and me in Bali. He was looki

it, I saw the

e. It was per

me three yea

red the hospit

nged at Jackson with a knife. I stepped in fr

my life, but the

streaming down his face, promising me that

l

d give him a legacy, and he kept me arou

gers shaking so hard I could barely

file wa

they

t coincided perfectly with his "business trips." Photos of a weddin

p in my throat, t

da for trying to undercut his busines

rt me about my infertility that he p

d came away wet. I hadn

too

d by a cold, sharp anger. It was

go home and wait f

be the victim he k

ber I hadn't c

racked, sounding broke

k... I think I've been li