Chapter 12

I thought Julie was joking, though I appreciated her loyalty. The last thing I needed was to involve another person in my nightmare. After her discharge, Julie insisted I stay with her. I didn’t have the energy to refuse. To ensure James couldn’t track me down, Julie’s connections provided me with a completely new identity.

At her penthouse, I realized she wasn’t exaggerating about her resources—she was seriously connected, with the kind of wealth and power that opens doors I didn’t know existed. Her information networks were impressive. Within days, she casually mentioned over breakfast that Rachel was dead. She’d been found in a back alley overseas, her body mutilated beyond recognition, with particular violence focused on… certain areas.

James had canceled the wedding and made a public statement declaring he was already married, frantically searching for his “beloved wife.” I couldn’t make sense of his behavior. Hadn’t he been obsessed with Rachel for years? What was this sudden change of heart? Not that it mattered anymore.

What I didn’t expect was running into James so soon. I was browsing a boutique while Julie battled food poisoning in the restroom. Turning at the sound of a familiar voice, I found myself staring directly at him. His appearance shocked me. Designer suits were replaced by rumpled clothes; his face was unshaven, with hollowed cheeks and haunted eyes.

He approached cautiously. I turned to leave, but he caught my wrist. “Emily, please. Just give me a minute.” “Take your hand off me,” I said, ice in my voice. He released me instantly, as if my skin burned him. “I know I fucked up beyond forgiveness. I was blind. I destroyed everything—you, our children, us.”

I studied him dispassionately. “Apologies are worthless, James. If you’re genuinely sorry, go make amends with actions, not words.” He nodded repeatedly, completely stripped of arrogance. “I will.” “Just tell me this—if we meet in another lifetime, could you possibly give me an opportunity to make things right?”

I saw the desperation in his eyes, but some bridges can’t be rebuilt. I raised my maimed hand where the pinky finger was missing. “The ER doctor told me they could have reattached my finger if I’d brought it with me. I left it on the pavement deliberately. Know why?” His eyes fixated on my mutilated hand, genuine anguish washing over his face. He shook his head. “Because what I cut away wasn’t just flesh—it was every feeling I ever had for you.”

“From the moment I discovered what you did, I made a promise to myself: in this life or any other, I will always walk away from you. No second chances.” Some wounds shouldn’t heal. After a long moment, he attempted a smile that looked like physical pain. “I understand. You won’t see me again.” “I hope you find someone who deserves you, Emily.” He walked away, shoulders slumped.

Five minutes later, screams erupted from the street below. “Oh my God, someone jumped! Businessman in a gray suit—somebody call 911!” “Don’t bother. Impact was head-first. He’s gone.” Julie finally emerged from the restroom, hearing the commotion. “What’s with all the chaos? Did something happen?” “Nothing significant. Just someone trying to erase a debt that was already written in permanent ink.”