Reborn in Fire

The rumors of my divorce from Ryland Payne had circulated for two years.

Over those two years, he had paraded around with the secretary whose husband had once saved his life, appearing at every event and trampling my dignity underfoot.

I had never uttered a single word of complaint.

That changed on the anniversary of our son's death, when he showed up at the memorial art exhibition I had organized for our boy, with that woman and her child in tow.

The necklace around that woman's neck featured the longevity locket I had personally designed for my son.

I lost all control and smashed the exhibition, then rushed forward to snatch it back, only for Ryland to block me desperately.

I slapped him across the face in front of everyone, and he shoved me down onto the shattered picture frames in retaliation.

The next day, the entire internet branded me as the deranged woman.

"Two years ago, if she hadn't lost her mind and gone speeding through the rainstorm, the little heir of the Payne family would never have died on the spot!"

"Exactly, she killed her own son through her recklessness, and now she wants to hurt her husband's benefactor. What a venomous witch."

I turned off my phone, and my gaze turned to ice, inch by inch.

Ryland Payne, this time, I decided to leave you for good.

...

I sat quietly on the cold sofa and waited.

A massive crash echoed from the entryway as the door flew open, kicked in violently from outside.

Ryland stormed in, reeking of alcohol.

He clutched a document in his hand, the divorce agreement I had already signed and sent over by my lawyer.

Right in front of me, he tore that agreement to shreds. "Elena Andrews, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now!"

Ryland seized my wrist with crushing force, and I winced in pain. "You caused a scene at the exhibition, and now you're pulling this divorce nonsense! Do you think the Payne family's reputation hasn't been humiliated enough!"

He leaned down, and the foul stench of booze washed over my face, turning my stomach.

I lifted my eyes and stared at him coldly.

Then I raised my other hand and pointed to the tablet on the coffee table, its screen still glowing.

The display showed today's financial news, with Ryland making a bold appearance alongside his new flame to endorse the Payne Group's latest project.

The secretary at his side, Jolie Hayes, wore a necklace with a small, exquisite longevity locket dangling from it.

"That's Theo's thing. How dare you give it to her?"

That longevity locket was from a design I had sketched by hand during my pregnancy, crafted by the finest artisan, and it had hung around my son's neck from the moment he was born.

The fury in Ryland's eyes froze solid, a flicker of shock passing through them.

The grip on my wrist loosened without him realizing it. "It's just an inanimate object. Was all that drama really necessary? Do you have any idea how close you came to ruining Jolie at the exhibition today!"

An inanimate object?

Those words stabbed through my heart like a dagger, the pain so sharp I could barely draw breath.

At that moment, his phone buzzed from his pocket.

The caller ID read Jolie.

Ryland answered almost instantly, his earlier rage melting away into softness. "Don't be scared. I'm right here."

On the other end of the line, Jolie sobbed with heartbreaking delicacy. "Ryland, I'm so sorry... The whole thing at the exhibition was my fault. I shouldn't have worn that necklace... I just... I just wanted to honor Theo's memory in my own way..."

What a touching tribute.

Ryland cooed reassurances right away. "It has nothing to do with you. She's the one who lost it. Don't overthink this. Just rest up."

Before hanging up, he glanced back at me, his eyes conveying a silent message. "Look how kind she is, and how vicious you are."

He slammed the door on his way out. "Elena Andrews, if you want a divorce, you'll have to wait until I'm dead! You'd better behave yourself and stop crossing my limits! Do you have any idea how much it hurts me when you hurt her!"

I watched the direction in which he vanished, and finally, I smiled.

Ryland, your limit was Jolie.

My limit was my late son, Theo.

You ached for her, but who ached for me?

Who ached for our boy, who had died with eyes unclosed?