The Avalanche's Bitter Echo

While my husband, Caleb, chose to be with his lover, his parents were dying in an avalanche.

I let him go. I faced the hospital's payment demands alone.

In my past life, I had made him choose his parents over his lover.

His parents survived, but his lover died, her car plunging off a cliff during a blizzard as she drove to find him.

At first, my husband showed no remorse.

A year later, at the celebration for my solo art exhibition, he pushed me off the deck of a private yacht, leaving me to drown in the icy water as revenge.

"Skylar died because of you! It's all your fault!"

I sank into the icy depths, my future and all my art buried with me.

This time, he could choose. His dying parents, or his lover.

When he finally saw his silenced phone and the flood of urgent notifications from the hospital, he broke down.

He looked as if he'd aged ten years overnight.

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1

When the emergency call came, my husband's lover, Skylar Vance, was nestled in the VIP section of a charity gala, basking in the spotlight.

"Mrs. Monroe, your parents-in-law were in a severe avalanche while skiing," a frantic voice said from a top private hospital in Colorado. "Their injuries are critical. They need an emergency transfer to a specialized medical center for an experimental brain surgery. The cost is five million dollars."

This was a conversation I had already lived through once. Without hesitation, I put the call on speakerphone, ensuring my husband, Caleb Hawthorne, heard every single word.

I turned to him. Disbelief twisted his handsome features.

"Ava, are you that desperate for attention?" he scoffed. "Using my parents to cause a scene at a charity gala? Is this your new strategy?"

I didn't scream or plead. I simply stated the facts, my voice flat and stripped of all emotion.

"This isn't an act. They're in trouble. We need five million dollars to save them, which means we have to access the family trust immediately."

His icy gaze cut right through me. "This pathetic little stunt isn't winning you any points," he sneered. "And now you're after my money?"

We had known each other for ten years. I had once saved his art investments with a single painting, and this marriage of convenience was my reward.

Caleb came from a top Wall Street financial family, while I was just a gallery owner from a modest background. He never saw me as an equal, and his obsession with the Instagram influencer Skylar Vance was an open secret.

When we got married, I told him he could see Skylar whenever he wanted. I had no interest in being shackled to his good looks or his fortune.

He slammed me against the wall and kissed me roughly, growling, "Shut up, Ava. Just be Mrs. Hawthorne. That's all you need to do."

After the wedding, his coldness only intensified.

But when Skylar returned to New York, I saw the fire in his eyes as he gazed at her. It was then I finally accepted that no part of his heart had ever been mine, not even the smallest corner.

My own gaze turned cold, all warmth extinguished by disappointment. "I'm not lying, and I'm not acting."

I looked him straight in the eye.

"Believe it or not, your parents are critically injured. If you have a shred of humanity, you'll help me raise the money. If not, get out of my way so I can save them myself."

He froze, stunned by a forcefulness he'd never seen in me before.

I turned to leave. As I moved to push past Skylar, who was blocking my path, she let out an exaggerated shriek and tumbled down the steps, her limbs flailing as if her strings had been cut.

"Oh, it hurts so much!" she moaned from the floor, tears instantly welling in her eyes, the picture of wounded innocence.

"Caleb, don't blame Ava," she sobbed. "I'm sure she didn't mean to."

Fury clouded Caleb's features. He rushed to her side, carefully scooping her up.

Skylar flinched in pain, clutching her throat. Only then did I notice a red rash blooming on her neck.

"You'd better pray she's okay," Caleb roared at me, his voice echoing under the flash of cameras. "Because if anything happens to Skylar, you'll live to regret it."

He swept Skylar up in his arms and stormed out the door.

I stood alone in the opulent ballroom, swallowed by the glare of flashing cameras, a block of ice forming in my chest.