Serena’s POV
I watched Ryan’s broad shoulders disappear through the doorway, sothing sharp and unexpected twisting in my chest. The urge to call after him clawed at my throat—wait, co back, let explain—but the words crumbled to ash before they could escape.
What would I even say? That hurting him felt like self-mutilation?
The silence he left behind felt heavier than his presence ever had.
Sally burst through my door like a hurricane the mont his footsteps faded, her face flushed with barely contained panic. "Serena, are you okay?"
"I’m fine," I whispered, the lie scraping against my damaged vocal cords.
I collapsed back into my chair, every bone in my body suddenly made of lead. The righteous anger that had sustained through our confrontation drained away, leaving behind an ache I couldn’t na.
Why does hurting him hurt ? The question lodged itself in my chest like a splinter.
"Thank God you’re alright," Sally continued, her relief palpable. "I have news about the arson case."
I forced myself to focus, grateful for the distraction from the war raging in my head. "Was it Claire?"
Sally nodded grimly. "She bribed a maintenance worker to help her start the fire. Used her employee access to case the building first." Her expression softened. "But Serena, it’s over. Claire’s locked up. She can’t hurt you anymore."
One threat down. How many left?
"The legal team’s making progress on the plagiarism case too," Sally added. "We should have good news within the week."
Two victories that should have made feel triumphant. Instead, all I could see was Ryan’s face in those final monts—the way his eyes had gone glassy with unshed tears, like a man watching his world end in slow motion.
Stop thinking about him.
But I couldn’t. The image clung to like smoke, making it hard to breathe.
"Serena?" Sally’s voice seed to co from underwater. "What’s wrong?"
Then she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my God—you’re crying!"
I froze, my fingers automatically rising to my cheek. They ca away wet with tears I hadn’t even felt forming.
When did I start crying? Why am I crying over him?
The betrayal of my own body sent a fresh wave of panic through . I scrubbed at my face furiously, as if I could erase the evidence of whatever this was.
"What did that bastard say to you?" Sally’s voice hardened, protective fury blazing in her eyes. "Did he threaten you? Because I swear I’ll call the police—"
"No, Sally. It’s not—" My voice cracked. "I just... my head’s a ss right now. Can you give so space? I need to think."
I need to figure out why my heart is trying to crawl out of my chest.
Sally hesitated, clearly torn between respecting my wishes and her instinct to shield from whatever was causing this breakdown. "If you want to talk—about anything—you know where to find , okay? Don’t suffer alone."
"I won’t," I promised, the lie bitter on my tongue.
After she left, my thoughts drifted to Maya—the woman who’d wept over like I’d risen from the dead, who’d spoken of friendship and partnership with such intimate knowledge. She’d called Serena Blackwood with absolute certainty, as if the na belonged to more than my own breath.
What if it does?
The thought sent ice through my veins.
Ethan had looked at with a brother’s recognition, desperate and unshakeable. Maya had known details about my preferences, my habits, things too personal for Ryan Blackwood to have fed her as lies.
What if they’re telling the truth?
I’d researched Ryan extensively after our first encounter—his business empire, his scandals, his teoric rise from tragedy to triumph. But I’d never looked into Serena Blackwood’s family. Her past. The life she might have lived before everything went dark.
The life I might have lived.
Without mories to anchor , what did I really know about myself? Everything I believed, everything I’d built my identity on, had been told to by others or pieced together from articles and photographs that felt like soone else’s life.
Who am I? Really?
The question echoed in the emptiness of my mind, mocking and urgent. I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of uncertainty crushing down like an avalanche.
What if Cedric lied to ?
My hands began to shake. The wedding ring on my finger suddenly felt like a shackle.
What if I chose a different ring once? For a different man?
Images flashed through my mind: Ryan’s hands, strong and familiar. The way he’d looked at in the hospital, like I was a miracle he’d stopped believing in. The certainty in his voice when he called his wife.
What if he’s telling the truth?
The possibility opened like a chasm beneath my feet. If Ryan was right, if I really was Serena Blackwood, then everything I’d built with Cedric was a lie. Every kiss, every promise, every mont of supposed happiness—stolen from soone else’s life.
I doubled over as the full implications hit . If I was Serena Blackwood, then Ryan had spent three years searching for his missing wife, only to find her playing house with another man. Only to watch her reject him, hurt him, send him away again and again.
Oh God. What have I done?
The tears ca harder now, hot and shaful. Sowhere in this city, a man who might be my real husband was nursing wounds I’d inflicted out of ignorance and fear.
And if he’s not lying, if he really loves ...
Then I’d just broken the heart of the man I’d promised to love forever.
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