Chapter 1
The day my boyfriend and I went down to the courthouse for our marriage license, his childhood friend ran me over with her car on purpose.
I miscarried on the spot, and my left leg was amputated.
Nash Morgan lost it and nearly choked the unconscious Lyra Delaney to death.
When I came to in the hospital, he looked at me with guilt in his eyes.
"Freya, she's still got a seriously ill mother at home and a little brother in grade school. I'm begging you—please, let her off."
I stared at him, not believing my ears.
"Let her off? So our baby died for nothing? They took my leg for nothing?"
He set his jaw, yanked Lyra out from behind him, and shoved her in front of me. "On your knees! Beg Freya to forgive you!"
Lyra knelt by my hospital bed, pressing her forehead to the floor over and over as she begged me to forgive her.
Even after I told him I didn't want to see her, Nash still had her by my side every single day, saying it was to take care of me and make things right.
One time, Lyra brought me a cup of scalding coffee. I finally lost it and knocked it out of her hand, splashing it all over her.
But Nash rushed over to check her burns and gave me a look of pure disappointment. "Isn't this enough? She's doing everything she can to make it up to you. Did you really have to go that far?"
Right then, something in me just died.
I pulled out my phone and messaged my older brother, who was living overseas.
Freya: Come get me, Jude. I'm done with Nash.
*****
Right after I sent it, Nash reached over and snatched my phone away. "Freya, are you trying to call the cops again? Is that really necessary?"
Lyra knelt down by my bed, smooth as anything, choking back sobs. "I'm sorry, Freya, it's all my fault. Please don't call the police…"
Nash helped her up, his face gone dark. "Freya Cameron, Lyra didn't do it on purpose. She's already done more than enough for you. Don't give her a hard time, okay?"
I hadn't said a word this whole time. The tears were already running down my face. Nash held out a few tissues, cold about it. I didn't take them.
I just broke and screamed at him, "Get out! All of you, out!"
Then I grabbed the apple off the bedside table and threw it at them.
Nash threw himself in front of Lyra on reflex and rounded on me. "Lyra's been taking care of you almost two weeks. Have you shown her one ounce of kindness? Just because you're hurt, does everybody else have to be as miserable as you are?"
I froze, leaning back against the bed, and met his eyes.
That was it. Two weeks, and he already felt like a stranger—nothing like the man I used to know. When the crash happened, he'd been furious enough to nearly kill Lyra with his bare hands. When I woke up, he'd cried and begged me to sign a letter of forgiveness. "If something happens to Lyra, I couldn't face her family… I don't know what to do…" I was the one who got hurt, and somehow it was Lyra who'd "done enough" for me.
I opened my mouth, and he cut me off before I got a word out. "Can you stop bringing up the baby and your leg?"
A minute later my phone rang. Jude, calling back. Nash ignored my hand reaching for it and answered anyway. When Jude asked what was going on, he said, easy as could be, "It's nothing, Jude. Freya and I are just having a little spat. I'll smooth it over in a bit, she'll be fine." A few pleasantries and he hung up, then handed the phone back. "Don't tell Jude. Don't get him worried. I heard he's in the middle of some big project right now."
I gripped the phone and said nothing.
After he sent Lyra off, Nash sighed and sat down beside my bed. "Freya, you're not yourself anymore, and your temper's gotten so bad… You used to be so upbeat, so cheerful. I miss seeing you smile."
I let out a cold laugh and looked him dead in the eye. "If you were the one in this bed—if you were the one who lost a leg—could you still smile? Watching the person who killed your kid hover over you every single day, could you smile? I'm crippled. I'll never dance again as long as I live. How exactly do you expect me to smile?"
