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The Scar That Freed My Soul Novel Cover

The Scar That Freed My Soul

To force my husband to sign the divorce papers, I had to press a blade against my own neck until I bled. He was hesitating because he didn't want a scandal, even though he had just watched his mistress push me down the stairs, killing our unborn child. While I lay bleeding on the floor, Calvin didn't call an ambulance for me; he comforted her because she was "scared." I walked away with a jagged scar and a broken soul, leaving them to their stolen happiness. Five years later, at a party, the game "Never Have I Ever" brought everything crashing back. Calvin looked at me with haunted eyes, ignoring his now-wife Brea, and whispered, "I made a mistake. I want you back." Brea went ballistic, screaming that I was the home-wrecker, and tried to attack me again in a jealous rage. But this time, I wasn't the victim. I turned to my handsome neighbor, Derek, and closed the door on Calvin's pleading face. The next morning, a headline flashed on my phone: "Tech Mogul Calvin Bishop Stabbed to Death by Wife in Police Station." I touched the scar on my neck and finally smiled. Karma didn't just knock; she kicked the door down.
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Chapter 3

Audrey Wolfe POV:

The car was suffocating. Brea's frantic accusations echoed, each word a fresh cut, not just for Calvin, but for me. The air grew thick with her paranoia, her jealousy. The silence from the backseat, from Kaliyah and me, only seemed to fuel her rage.

Calvin's jaw tightened. His knuckles, white against the steering wheel, were the only outward sign of his mounting frustration.

"Brea, calm down," he said, his voice strained. "You're being irrational."

"Irrational?" Her laugh was a harsh, broken sound. "You call me irrational after what you did? After what she did? You left me alone! Alone, Calvin! Do you know how scared I am?"

Maya, who had been quietly listening from the front passenger seat, finally spoke, a nervous laugh escaping her. "Wow, sounds like someone's having a rough night. Maybe you should call her back when things are calmer, Calvin."

Calvin shot Maya a glare that could curdle milk. His face was a thundercloud, his irritation clearly boiling over. Without another word, he snatched the phone from the console and ended the call, the abrupt click reverberating through the car. He didn't even look at us.

"Well," Maya said, trying to lighten the mood, "that was... a dramatic finish to the party." She turned in her seat. "Thanks for the ride, Calvin, but I think I'll call my own cab from here. This seems like a private conversation." She quickly got out of the car, her escape a silent commentary on the chaos she'd just witnessed.

The tension in the car ratcheted up a notch. Calvin remained silent, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"I can drop you both off," he offered, his voice devoid of emotion. "It's on my way."

"No thanks," Kaliyah snapped. "We'll take a cab too. We prefer not to be caught in the middle of your domestic disputes, Calvin." She reached for her door handle.

"Wait." Calvin' s voice was suddenly urgent. "Audrey, can we talk? Just for a minute?"

Kaliyah paused, then sighed, looking at me. "Audrey, what do you want to do?"

I hesitated. A part of me just wanted to run, to put as much distance between myself and this man as possible. But another part, the stubborn, resilient part, knew that avoidance wouldn't make him disappear. Not tonight, anyway.

"Fine," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "But make it quick."

Kaliyah gave me a look that silently screamed, Don't you dare fall for his bullshit. But she closed her door, signaling for me to do the same.

Calvin put the car in park, turning off the engine. The sudden quiet was deafening. He turned to face me, his eyes pleading. "Audrey, I... I never meant for any of this to happen. What Brea just said... she's not well. The IVF treatments, they're taking a toll."

Kaliyah scoffed again. "Oh, the poor, delicate Brea. Always the victim, isn't she? Just like five years ago, when she pushed a pregnant woman down the stairs."

Calvin flinched, his body stiffening. He closed his eyes for a moment, a wave of what looked like genuine pain washing over his face.

"It was an accident!" he rasped, his voice rough. "Audrey, you know that. You were so angry, you lunged at her. She just reacted. It was all a terrible accident."

I shook my head, a bitter taste filling my mouth. "An accident? You really believe that, Calvin? You stood there, watching me bleed, while you comforted her. You let your assistant, the woman you were sleeping with, tell me I was hysterical and ruined. You chose her."

"I was in shock!" he countered, his voice rising. "I didn't know what to do! It was a blur!"

"It wasn't a blur for me," I said, my voice cold and flat. "I remember every second. The pain. The blood. The way the doctor looked at me, telling me there was nothing they could do. My baby, Calvin. Our baby. Gone." The words were like shards of glass in my throat.

Kaliyah reached for my hand, squeezing it tight. Her eyes were moist, brimming with unshed tears. "Audrey, you don't have to relive this."

"No," I insisted, pulling my hand away. "He needs to hear it. He needs to remember." I turned back to Calvin, my gaze unwavering. "After I lost the baby, I told you I wanted a divorce. I couldn't look at you, couldn't breathe the same air as you without seeing her face, without feeling that empty ache inside me. You said you understood."

"I did!" he insisted, running a hand through his hair. "I was horrified! I was wracked with guilt!"

"So wracked with guilt," I continued, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "that within weeks, Brea had moved into our apartment. Our home. She was sleeping in our bed, wearing my clothes, parading around like she owned the place. I came home one day, and she was there, in my kitchen, humming, making you coffee. Like she belonged."

My stomach clenched. The memory was a fresh wound, even after all these years. That day, I had walked into my home, the scent of her perfume permeating every room, and found Brea, casually sipping tea at my breakfast bar.

"Get out!" I had screamed, my voice raw with grief and rage. "Get out of my house, you tramp!"

She had just smiled, a condescending, pitying look on her face. "Oh, Audrey. You really think this is your house anymore? Calvin moved me in. He said you wouldn't be needing it."

I had lunged at her, a primal scream tearing from my throat. I just wanted to scratch that smug look off her face. But she was quicker. She stepped aside, and I stumbled, losing my balance. Her hand shot out, pushing me hard against the doorframe. My head hit the wood with a jarring crack. I crumpled to the floor, my vision swimming.

That wasn't the fall that killed my baby. That was the fall that killed my spirit.

Calvin had burst in then, drawn by the commotion. He saw me on the floor, dazed, and Brea standing over me, looking distressed. Predictably, he rushed to Brea's side.

"What did you do, Audrey?" he'd demanded, his voice cold, devoid of any concern for me. "Why are you attacking her?"

"She moved in!" I'd choked out, tears streaming down my face. "She's in our house!"

"It's not your house anymore, Audrey," he'd stated, his voice flat. "You wanted a divorce, remember? We'd started the paperwork."

That night, lying alone in a hotel room, my head throbbing, my heart shattered into a million pieces, I knew. There was no going back. There was no 'us' left. I had to get out. I had to make him sign those divorce papers. No matter the cost.

"I went back to the hospital, you know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, pulling myself from the past. "To the room where I lost our baby. I just sat there. And I cried until there were no more tears left. The nurse found me, limp on the floor. She thought I was having a breakdown."

Calvin made a choked sound, a low guttural noise in his throat. He reached for my hand again, his fingers trembling. "Audrey, please..."

"No," I said, pulling away, my voice gaining strength. "You don't get to touch me. Not anymore."

"I know I messed up," he said, his voice thick with what sounded like genuine anguish. "I know I hurt you. But I can fix it. I swear, I can."

I looked at him, truly looked at him. The man who had once been my everything. Now, he was just a stranger begging for a second chance he didn't deserve. The pain was still there, a dull throb, but it no longer consumed me.

"You can't fix what you broke, Calvin," I said, my voice calm, resolute. "Some things are beyond repair."

"But Audrey, I'm miserable now," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Brea is... she's not you. She's paranoid. She's obsessed. I made a mistake letting you go."

I turned my head, gazing out the window at the passing city lights. His misery was not my concern. It was a consequence, not a plea.

"You wanted a divorce after that," Kaliyah prompted, her voice soft, recalling my earlier statement. "What happened then? Why didn't you get it?"

I closed my eyes, the weight of that next memory pressing down on me. "Because my parents got involved," I said, the words heavy with resignation. "They found out I was trying to leave him." The next part, the real horror, was still unspoken. It was the part that left the scar on my neck.

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