He Saved the Side Chick

Steven raised his voice. "You want a divorce just 'cause I didn't save you first?"

"I told you, I didn't see you. Tammy was seriously hurt too. If I hadn't rushed her to the hospital, she could've ended up with a scar on her forehead."

A scar. That mattered more than my life.

I should've seen it coming. The second he shoved Tammy into the company—zero experience, just some old college connection—I should've known.

I looked away. "The lawyer will send the papers."

The door slammed open. Tammy charged in, face full of fake guilt.

"Bree, this isn't Steven's fault. It's mine. I shouldn't have gotten hurt where he could see. I shouldn't have asked you to drive 'cause of my stomachache. If I knew this would happen, I'd have just called in sick. I messed everything up for him."

Steven threw her a worried glance and stepped in front of her. "This is between me and Bree. Don't blame yourself."

I locked eyes with Tammy, who was suddenly real quiet behind him.

"You faked a stomachache to make me drive, then messed with the airbag. That's attempted murder. You really think I'll let that slide?"

Her face twitched, just for a second, then she snapped back into her act. "Bree, it was Steven's car. I didn't know anything about the airbag."

Steven looked at her, surprised, then came over and tried to grab my hand. I yanked it back.

Tammy frowned, her voice weirdly soft. "It was an accident, okay? Blame me if it helps. Let's just move on. You're fine now—why keep dragging this out?"

Fine?

I almost died. Tammy gets a scratch, and suddenly it's a whole crisis.

I stared straight at Steven. "We're getting divorced. And I'm finding out if Tammy tried to kill me. If I made it out alive, whoever wanted me dead won't."

Steven scoffed. "Bree Artego, you think I don't see what this is?

"You've always been paranoid about me and Tammy. And yeah—you were right. While you were off chasing deadlines on our wedding night, Tammy was the one by my side.

"You want out? Cool. But you walk away with nothing. Otherwise, no deal."

My chest squeezed like someone had their fist around my heart. I couldn't breathe.

That night, I'd been out drinking with clients, chasing a deal for our company. I landed in the ER with stomach bleeding. Called him nonstop. He never picked up. He was with her.

My mouth filled with that sharp, bitter taste. I spat blood right at him.

"Get out."

Steven's face twitched, tension flashing in his eyes. "Think twice about the divorce, Bree. This won't end well for either of us."

He left. I stood there, fists clenched, then felt my phone buzz.

A new message—last month's cancer screening.

I stared at it, breath stuck in my throat.

Late stage.

I let out a cold, dry laugh.