He Donated to Her, I Divorced Him

Chapter 2

"No, Thiago. I'll handle it myself."

I tilted my head, avoiding his hand.

For a moment, his hand froze midair. His face darkened, but only briefly, before softening. He stepped closer, as if to pull me into his arms.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he murmured, catching my wrist lightly and pressing a brief kiss to the back of my hand. "I shouldn't have come home so late on a day this important. And you shouldn't have rushed into danger alone." The worry in his eyes looked completely convincing. "What if you'd been hurt? Let's just get to the hospital first."

He pinched my cheek gently, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Then I'll take my punishment later."

He touched me carefully, every movement gentle, his gaze full of an intensity that made it clear how much he truly ached for me.

But all I felt was revulsion. Bile rose in my throat, pressing against my lungs until it was hard to breathe.

I had spent hours preparing for our anniversary, waiting foolishly since dawn for him to come home and cut the cake with me. And now he had just crawled out of another woman's bed, only to wrap me in his arms and murmur about his concern.

A humorless laugh threatened to escape. My eyes burned.

I pressed my hand to his chest and shoved him back.

I barely had time to speak when the sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears.

I turned. Naomi leaned on the doorframe. Her skirt streaked with ash, her wrists and knees scraped and bleeding. Her hair was a mess, the sticky strands plastered to her face only emphasizing how drained she looked.

It finally sank in. What I had seen upstairs wasn't a hallucination.

I glanced at the warped, blackened window on the second floor. The fire had been massive. Somehow, they had jumped down, found the strength to dress, and escaped.

By the time the firefighters arrived, the room was empty.

They hadn't escaped at the last second. They had escaped long before the firefighters arrived.

Something bitter twisted in my chest.

"Naomi?" Thiago's voice shifted, sharp with concern. He strode to her in a few long steps. "What happened?"

Tears blurred Naomi's eyes. Her voice trembled. "I heard the house was on fire. Liliana was inside. I panicked and ran as fast as I could... I didn't..." Her gaze dropped to her scraped knee. "I tripped on the front steps."

"Liliana, are you hurt? We need to get you to the hospital!" Thiago's voice was urgent, protective.

Naomi took my hand in hers, too familiar, too intimate, and her voice trembled with unease.

Once, Naomi had been a friend I admired and trusted. If she'd worried about my safety, then all I would have felt was gratitude.

Now, it made me feel sick.

I wanted to throw up. I wanted to slap her.

I raised my hand, ready to strike, but Thiago stepped forward and scooped Naomi into his arms.

"You're hurt worse than Liliana. I'll take you myself."

He had already taken a few steps before he noticed my burning stare. He glanced back at me.

"Liliana, your leg is fine. Hurry up, or you'll fall behind!"

"No," I said coldly. "I'll take care of things at home. Naomi's injuries are serious. As my husband, it's your duty to see her safely to the hospital." My gaze flicked to her reddened ankle, my voice dripping with irony.

Unfortunately, Thiago didn't catch the sarcasm. His gaze flickered, a shadow crossing his features. Then he nodded and carried her away as if nothing had happened.

After they left, all the strength drained out of me at once.

I sank onto the sofa and stared at the empty doorway as the last three years of my marriage began playing back in my mind.

Three years ago, Thiago was the overlooked one in the Lambert family. No matter how hard he tried, his older brother Samuel outshone him in everything, grades, accomplishments, composure, and the effortless confidence that made people admire him. Years of living in Samuel's shadow had made Thiago insecure and withdrawn, until the year he came of age and learned his family had arranged a marriage for him. That fiancée was me.

In the second year of our engagement, tragedy tore my family apart. With nowhere else to go, I moved into Lambert Villa as Thiago's fiancée, and from then on, we were together almost every day.

Back then, I had lost everyone I loved, and he was lonely in his own way. Wounded people recognize each other too easily.

Over time, loneliness drew us together until the distance between us disappeared.

He once asked me, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice, "Why did you fall for me? Samuel is better than me at everything. He's smarter, more impressive, and every girl seems to like him."

I held his hand and looked at him as gently as I could.

"Your brother is impressive, and people have always admired him for it. I respect him. That's all. With you, I can be honest. You're the one I want, Thiago. Besides, I'm your fiancée. We were promised to each other from the start. Of course you're the only one I've ever wanted."

Thiago pulled me into his arms so tightly I could barely breathe. After that day, we only grew closer.

For my sake, he stopped sinking into self-pity and started pushing himself quietly. Slowly, he became someone who could stand beside Samuel without being overlooked.

But love, no matter how deep it once ran, could still change.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I peeled away the charred skin around my wound. The pain was sharp enough to send tears down my cheeks, but the wound on my body was nothing compared to the one in my chest. Whatever love I had once felt for Thiago had been torn apart too completely to be put back together.

Just then, someone arrived at the house.

"Liliana, I heard you were hurt! How bad is the injury?"

It was Ivan Lambert, Thiago's uncle.

Ivan was the person Thiago feared most. If Samuel had been the golden standard Thiago admired from afar, Ivan had been the harsh mentor who shaped both brothers with ruthless discipline from childhood.

As the head of the Lambert family, he had the authority to discipline and judge the younger members of the Lambert family, including Thiago and Samuel.

In my memory, Ivan had always been restrained, dignified, and impossible to read. He rarely smiled, rarely wasted words, and carried a quiet authority that made everyone careful around him. No one dared disrespect him. Even speaking to him meant choosing their words carefully.

That was why his concern made my throat tighten. I lowered my eyes and forced myself to answer quietly.

"I'm fine."

Ivan's expression cooled at once, irritation sharpening his voice.

"Liliana, the marriage agreement you signed with Thiago only binds you for three years. If you're unhappy, divorce him. I can help you."

He had seen through all the hurt I was trying to hide in a single glance.

I froze. I had thought that, as the head of the Lambert family, he would defend Thiago and pressure me to put up with it for the family's reputation.

Instead, he was offering to help me leave.

"Ivan," I asked, looking up at him, "why would you help me?"

For a long moment, he just looked at me.

Then his expression softened slightly, almost imperceptibly. "Liliana, don't you remember? You saved me once. I never forgot."

My mind went blank. No matter how hard I searched my memory, I could not recall what he was talking about.

Before I could ask, Ivan's phone rang. His expression turned serious the moment he saw the caller ID. After a brief apology, he handed me his private contact card.

"Liliana, if you make up your mind, you can come to this address. I'll be there whenever you're ready."