Chapter 4

Emily's POV

"Emily, let me explain."

Alexander rushed over and grabbed my wrist. "The photo isn't what you think. Sophia's family was forcing her to marry some creepy older guy who wouldn't stop stalking her. We only took these photos to make her family back off and help her escape."

Playing along was an excuse. Taking wedding photos was an excuse.

And bringing her into the apartment we were supposed to share as husband and wife was also just an excuse.

I violently shook his hand off, my eyes cold as ice. "Alexander, don't touch me. You make me sick."

In five years, this was the first time I had ever spoken to him with such venom.

Alexander looked as if he had been stabbed. He froze completely.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Sophia suddenly ran out of the living room.

Her eyes were red, and tears were streaming down her face. "Emily, please don't blame Alexander. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have been so shameless to crash here. I'll leave right now..."

She turned and ran toward the door.

"Sophia!" Alexander grabbed her arm. "It's the middle of the night, where are you going? That guy is still looking for you!"

"Then let him find me!" Sophia sobbed hysterically, struggling to pull away. "I'm just a burden anyway! I'd rather die than ruin your relationship!"

As she struggled, her hand knocked a ceramic vase off the side table.

With a loud crash, the vase shattered into pieces on the floor.

Sophia suddenly knelt down, picked up a sharp shard of ceramic, and without hesitation, brought it toward her wrist.

"Sophia! Are you crazy?!"

Alexander's face turned pale. He lunged forward and knocked the shard out of her hand.

But a thin line of blood was already forming on Sophia's pale wrist.

Alexander pressed down on her wound, turning to scream at me. "Emily! Are you happy now? Do you really have to drive her to suicide to be satisfied?!"

I stood there quietly, watching Alexander's bloodshot eyes and the veins popping on his neck. It felt incredibly absurd.

"I drove her to this?" I let out a dry laugh.

"Aren't you?!" Alexander snapped. "She's been pushed to the edge, and you don't have an ounce of sympathy? You're a woman too, how can you be so cold-blooded?!"

He paused, his next words cutting deeper than any knife. "No wonder people say you were born heartless. When your mother died in that car crash, you didn't even shed a single tear. I thought you just struggled to express your emotions, but now I see you simply don't have a heart!"

Those words ripped open the deepest scar in my soul.

I was only fifteen when my mother died.

I was in the passenger seat during the crash.

The violent impact had caused temporary hearing loss and left me in extreme shock. I physically couldn't cry.

That was the most painful memory of my life.

I had once bared that wound to Alexander, and he had held me all night, comforting me.

And now, he was using that very scar as a weapon to tear me apart in front of another woman.

I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back down.

"Yes, I have no heart," I said, opening my eyes to look at him with dead silence. "So both of you can go die wherever you want. Just don't get your blood on my floor."

Alexander stared at my indifferent face, his mouth opening as if to explain.

But Sophia let out a painful gasp in his arms, instantly pulling his attention back.

"I'm taking her to the ER," Alexander gritted his teeth, lifting Sophia in his arms, and rushed out the door.

The front door slammed shut again.

I walked over to the broken ceramic shards and knelt down.

The flowers I bought yesterday were crushed, mixed with water and blood on the floor.

Without any expression, I grabbed a broom and swept the mess away.

Then, I went into the master bedroom, dug into the bottom drawer, and pulled out a photo.

It was a photo of Alexander and me from our first year together. He had his chin on my shoulder, smiling like a boy who had just won the lottery.

I took a pair of scissors and cut right down the middle, separating us.

I tossed Alexander's half straight into the trash can.