"Lacey Rose? Who is she?"

Bradley Lawrence reflexively denied it, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "I have no idea."

But his mind betrayed him. He was back in that elevator, the day the security guard called. He remembered rushing home to find me in such a disheveled state. He recalled, with sickening clarity, how he’d been holding Lacey Rose, kissing her, while his peripheral vision caught a broken, miserable figure cowering in the corner.

Her hair was a mess.

Her clothes were wrinkled.

*Crack.*

His mind went blank. He couldn't bear to look at the memory. He shifted his gaze, his voice dropping to a low, defensive mutter. "I ended things with her ages ago."

My mother sighed, trying to calm my temper. "Madeline, watch your tone. Remember when you tried to file for divorce before? He leaped from the third floor just to stop you. He nearly lost the use of his legs."

She reached out, her voice pleading. "Bradley would give his life for you. Why can't you just trust him? You’re going to be a mother soon. Stop being so difficult and irrational."

*Irrational.*

I locked eyes with my mother, my throat tightening as if invisible fingers were strangling me. She wanted me to bow my head. She wanted me to pipe down. She wanted me to remain the "lucky woman" who was "loved enough to die for."

But she didn't know.

Bradley might give his life for me, but he’d been parceling out his heart to Lacey Rose for years. Slice by slice. Day after day.

I pulled my hand away from my mother’s and let out a dry, hollow laugh.

"Mom, you don't even know the half of it."

I turned my gaze back to Bradley. "He wasn't on a business trip. He’s been lying to you, to me, to everyone."

Bradley’s eyes turned bloodshot. "There was an emergency at the firm. I flew back early. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."

*Worry?*

I let out a sharp laugh, though hot tears prickled at my eyes, uncontrollable. He lied so well—his expression so sincere, his voice so velvet-soft. He looked at me with such wounded, tear-filled eyes, as if I were the one cruelly maligning him.

I wanted to ask him: *When you say these things, do you actually believe them?*

I was finished with the games. I reached into my bag, pulled out the divorce papers I’d prepared, and slapped them onto the table.

"Sign them."

His eyes were still red, the mask of victimhood still plastered to his face.

"No." He shoved the papers away, his voice cracking. "Madeline, you risked your life to fly to Dubai for me. You love me. Why are you destroying us over nothing?"

He stood there, jaw muscles tight, his gaze so painfully honest. It was almost believable. No wonder I had been played for a fool for so long.

He lunged forward, grabbing my wrists with a grip that left bruises. "Don't forget—we have a child."

The thought of the baby made my chest spasm with grief. I looked down at his hands—the same hands that had touched Lacey Rose countless times.

One by one, I pried his fingers off my skin.

I pulled the medical discharge papers from my bag and tossed them at him.

"The baby was lost three days ago."

He froze, clutching the paper, his fingers beginning to tremble.

"What right did you have to terminate my child?" he hissed, his face contorting. "Madeline, how can you be so selfish?"

Seeing the indignation, the shock, and the cold anger in his eyes, I finally laughed.

"I forgot, you’re a high-powered attorney. Everything is about the evidence, isn't it?"

I pulled out my phone and pulled up the latest video Lacey Rose had posted. It was a close-up of two hands, fingers locked together in a lover’s grip.

Bradley’s face drained of color. He scrambled for a denial. "That’s not me!"

My mother panicked. "Madeline, you must have it wrong! Look at how well Bradley has treated you all these years. You can't let these random internet rumors ruin your life."

I shoved the phone right in front of her face.

"Mom, look closely." I pointed to the screen. "That scar on his hand. Does it look familiar?"

Bradley violently jerked his hand back, clenching it into a fist until his knuckles turned ivory.

Watching that reaction, the tears finally spilled over.

"Funny how that works, isn't it? The scar from the day you 'saved' me has become the very evidence that exposes your betrayal."

My mother’s voice trembled. "Bradley? Is it true? Have you really been cheating on her?"

Bradley didn't answer. He just stared at me, eyes red, lips pressed into a thin, white line.

I answered for him. "Three years, Mom. Same girl the whole time."

I smiled, my tears falling freely now. "It turns out, you and Lacey Rose are the true soulmates."

I turned to leave, but he lunged, grabbing my arm with a force that made me gasp in pain. In the struggle, his Patek Philippe watch flew from his wrist, striking the floor with a sharp *clack*.

The face of the watch shattered. The glass was ruined, a jagged fault line running straight through the center.

I looked down at the broken timepiece, remembering how he’d once knelt, offering it to me as a promise of forever.

"You told me that even broken mirrors could be mended," I whispered.

I wrenched my arm from his grip, the words falling like ice.

"I'm telling you now—this one can't."