Chapter 1Wedding night. I crawled out barely standing.
Laughter exploded outside the door.
"Bro, your wife's slutty." Guy's still breathless. "Last night wrecked me."
My blood froze.
Last night... that wasn't Garrett?
Then Garrett's voice cut through, ice-cold.
"She’ll open her legs for anyone. Figured I'd let someone else break her in."
They crack up.
I gripped the doorframe, shaking.
My wedding night. His twisted revenge.
Alright then.
You wanna play dirty? Let's go.
From that night on, seven years of marriage became a war. We didn’t love—we destroyed each other.
But I lost everything.
Dad—prison. Brother—dead. Mom—asylum.
That night, Garrett crushed my jaw.
"Honey, the proud princess? Gone. You're worse than a gutter whore now."
I was fucking done.
My hand found the poison bottle under my pillow. Cold. Hard. Real.
No more games.
Mom wanted me gone? Fine. I'd disappear.
Tears dripped onto the pillowcase—dark, spreading stains.
Garrett didn't stop.
He tore my nightgown open, buttons flying everywhere. The ripping sound exploded in the dead-quiet room.
"Emma."
"Seven years of your drama. Time to learn some obedience."
My eyes stayed down.
Old me? Would've shoved him off. Slapped him bloody. Screamed I'd never fucking break.
Now? I just laid there.
Empty. Hollow. Dead weight.
He actually stopped.
Surprise flashed across his face—like he'd never seen me like this. His rough fingers touched my cheek, military instinct kicking in.
"What happened to you?"
"You were wild as hell riding Ethan's lap that night."
He grabbed my jaw, forced me to look. His thumb smeared wetness.
Tears.
He went rigid. The temperature dropped.
"The fuck you crying for?"
He smelled like gardenias—Daisy’s scent. His dead buddy's little sister. The one he actually gave a damn about.
My chest felt like it was caving in. Every breath hurt.
I stared at him. His angry eyebrows. His throat. His mouth that just destroyed mine. Those cold, empty eyes.
We locked eyes. I looked away first.
My lips barely moved.
"If you're gonna fuck me, hurry up."
"I'm tired. Wanna sleep."
His fingers dug into my face—knuckles bone-white, veins popping.
His expression went from furious to glacial.
"Say that again?"
"What, pissed off now?" My throat burned.
Why's he mad?
I'm being good. Isn't that what he wanted?
He stared forever. Then his grip loosened—slow, controlled.
Finally he laughed. Bitter. Harsh. Rolled off me, rage radiating off him.
"Emma, you're something else. Playing victim now?"
He stood up, fixed his uniform. Every button perfect. Something square bulged in his pocket.
He hesitated. Threw it at me.
Looked down like I was trash.
"You're still my wife on paper. Your family's destroyed, so here's your pity prize."
"Stay in line, you keep the title. Mrs. Harding. Chief spouse. Yours."
The box nailed my shoulder. Sharp corner. Hurt like hell.
I didn't flinch. Didn't even look.
He waited. Watched. Scoffed, jaw clenched tight.
"Your dad earned his prison cell. You deal with the fallout."
"Quit the corpse routine. Keep the gift or trash it—I don't care."
He grabbed his jacket, threw it on, stormed out.
Door slammed. Lock clicked.
Dead silence.
I pulled out the poison again. Stared at the warning label.
When?
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow's Mom's birthday. I'll see her one last time.
Then I'm out.
Chapter 2
Next day, I showed up at the military psych ward with Mom's favorite osmanthus cake. Custom-made. Five hours of work.
Security was insane. Without Garrett's approval, I couldn't even get through the gate.
I walked into her room, forced a stiff smile.
"Mom. I'm here."
Her back went rigid. Didn't turn around.
My chest tightened, but I pushed through. Opened the cake box.
"Mom, it's your birthday. Osmanthus—your favorite. Took me five hours. Just… just try one bite?"
"Please. One bite."
"This is the last time—"
WHAM.
Something slammed into the back of my head.
Next second, my face was shoved straight into the cake—cream everywhere, filling my mouth, my nose.
"GET OUT."
She went psycho—clawing at my face, my neck, scratching like she wanted to rip me apart.
"GO DIE. Go join your brother in hell!"
Cream clogged my throat. Couldn't breathe. Sweet, suffocating.
I tried to speak.
"Mom—"
She shoved me hard. I crashed into the doorframe—back exploding with pain.
She screamed.
"Garrett's screwing Daisy and you can't just SHUT UP about it?!"
"How did I give birth to something this STUPID?!"
"Emma, GO DIE. Just fucking DIE already!"
Tears came. Hot. Uncontrollable. Mixed with cream—salty and sweet and disgusting.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
She used to love me.
She used to say I could do anything. That our family had my back. That I'd always have a room in the compound.
Now she hated me.
Hated me so much she'd lost her mind. Every word a death wish.
Did I fuck up everything?
I stared at the floor. Took forever to find my voice.
"Okay."
"I'll do it. I'll die."
Something in my eyes must've registered—she went quiet. Just for a second.
Then SLAM.
Locked me out.
I stood there. Long time. Finally dragged myself to the bathroom.
Cold water hit my face. Washed off the cream. Washed off the tears.
I stared at my reflection—pale, hollow, wrecked.
Maybe marrying Garrett was the mistake from the start.
And tonight? I'm ending it.
Tonight.
Chapter 3
I left the ward. Rain hammered down—brutal, freezing.
No umbrella. Didn't call a ride. Just walked. Soaked through. Numb.
My bones screamed from the cold when suddenly—the rain stopped.
I looked up.
Garrett stood there with a black umbrella, shoulders wet, eyes locked on me. Unreadable.
Behind him, through the club windows, I spotted the VIP room. Daisy. Ethan. Some of his officer crew.
He didn't say shit. Just grabbed my arm and yanked me inside.
His grip was vicious—rough calluses from years on the range, grinding into my soaked skin.
"What, princess finally too poor for an umbrella?"
Ethan sprawled on the booth, smirking like an asshole.
Active duty now. Tight with Garrett. Thought he could treat me like garbage.
"Tell you what—gimme one more night, I'll hook you up. Ten umbrellas, nice apartment, the works."
Laughter broke out—careful though. Nobody pushed it too far.
Garrett sat at the head. Major general. Hard-ass about protocol. Nobody dared trash-talk a military spouse right in front of him.
Someone elbowed Ethan, grinning.
"Damn dude, seven years and you're still hung up on her?"
"Yo Garrett, you don't even want her anymore. Maybe you should just—"
Garrett's eyes cut him dead.
He took a slow drag, smoke curling around his face.
"Y'all forget the regs already?"
Low voice. Lethal. Room went dead quiet.
Ethan mumbled, "Jesus, just messing around..."
Garrett ignored him. Looked at me instead—eyes dropping to my drenched clothes. Jaw tight.
Then Daisy showed up.
Walked over with warm water, pressed herself against Garrett's side. When she looked at me, her eyes fucking sparkled.
"Emma sweetie, ignore them. They're just wasted."
Sugar-sweet voice. Turned to the guys with a fake pout.
"Come on guys, seriously? You're pissing Garrett off."
Back to me. All innocent smiles.
"So like, before my brother died? I was all he worried about. Garrett's been looking after me since. You guys have been married forever and I never even got you a wedding gift."
Garrett's whole face softened. Steadied her with one hand, voice gentle as hell—never heard that tone before.
"Easy. Don't trip."
Old me? Would've flipped the goddamn table. Screamed bloody murder.
Now? Didn't give a fuck anymore.
Just wanted it over.
I turned to leave.
Daisy snagged my wrist.
"Wait, since you're here—take this. The Harding family heirloom. His dad's military medal pendant. Garrett kept it forever, then gave it to me to hold onto."
She unhooked the necklace, reaching for my neck.
CRASH.
Pendant hit the floor. Shattered.
Daisy stumbled back—perfect timing—fell straight into Garrett's arms. Instant tears.
"Emma, I was trying to be nice. I mean, even if you hate me, did you really have to shove me?"
"And now the family heirloom's destroyed..."
Voice breaking. Gripping Garrett's uniform, ankle twisted just so.
"Babe, my ankle—god it hurts—"
Same bullshit act.
Seven years of this crap. Weak-ass excuses. Terrible performance.
Garrett bought it every single time.
Because she's his dead buddy's sister. The girl he swore he'd protect forever.
Shocker—he fell for it again.
His face went stone cold. Grabbed my wrist—crushing pressure, like he wanted to snap bone.
"Emma, guess I haven't been hard enough on you. Still don't fucking get it, do you?"
"Apologize to Daisy. Now."
I stared at his hand. Military watch. The hand that earned all those medals.
"Sure."
Met his eyes. Calm. Empty.
"How you want it?"
"On my knees? Or should I fuck Ethan like he said?"
Used to be the princess of this whole compound.
Now? Humiliation meant nothing.
Not when I'd be dead soon anyway.
I looked around.
"Whatever you want, make it quick."
"Wanna get home before dark."
"EMMA!"
Garrett threw my arm down. I crashed backward into the wall.
Dead silence.
Finally someone gasped. Nobody moved.
"Out."
Garrett's voice was ice. Pure rage rolling off him in waves.
"Everyone get the fuck out."
Major general gives an order? You move. Room cleared in seconds.
Just me, Garrett, and Daisy still clinging to him.
She tugged his sleeve, voice all shaky.
"Garrett baby, my ankle's killing me. Hospital?"
He snapped to attention. Scooped her up. Headed for the door.
But right before leaving—he looked back.
First time ever.
Something flickered behind his eyes. Something fighting through the ice.
Then gone.
My phone buzzed.
Text from Garrett:
"Stay up tonight. Wanna hear your side."
I let out a bitter laugh.
You want my side of the story, Garrett?
Too bad.
I'm not waiting.
