The moment Evan Shaw saw me, his previously relaxed expression darkened as his brows knitted together. Striding toward me, his gaze landed on my injuries, and a flicker of emotion crossed his eyes—too subtle to pin down.
“What happened? How did you end up coming out of the mountains alone?”
I explained everything, detailing the events that brought me here. After listening, he let out a long sigh.
“Surviving such a disaster means better days are ahead. Come on, let’s get your wounds treated.”
“Okay.”
I thought he’d simply support me as we walked, but instead, he scooped me up into his arms effortlessly and headed toward a car parked at the base of the mountain.
Leaning against his chest, I could hear the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat. A faint blush crept onto my cheeks as I spoke shyly, “Evan, you don’t have to carry me. I can walk just fine…”
He only tightened his grip.
“The ground’s covered in weeds. I don’t want you cutting your feet.”
I had no choice but to let him carry me to the car. He gently set me down in the seat and retrieved a small first-aid kit from beneath it. Pulling out a bottle of rubbing alcohol, he carefully dabbed it on my wounds with a cotton pad, his movements tender and deliberate.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not at all.”
Watching his concern for me, I clenched my arm tightly with my right hand, determined not to let the tears pooling in my eyes spill over.
The memory of my previous life hit me like a cold wave.
I remembered the early days of my marriage to Eugene. At a company gathering, the drinks kept coming, one toast after another. Concerned he might overdo it, I softly urged him to slow down.
But instead of listening, he erupted in fury and shoved me into a champagne tower in front of everyone.
The glasses came crashing down, shattering as they hit the floor. I fell into the shards, the sharp edges piercing my skin. Blood mingled with the spilled champagne, soaking me as I lay there.
I cried out in pain as the staff helped me to my feet. Staring at him in disbelief, I couldn’t understand how he could act so cruelly.
His eyes held no warmth, and his voice was as cold as ice.
“Does it hurt? Good. Because when Sharon died, there wasn’t even anything left of her. Her pain was a thousand times worse—no, a million times worse! If it weren’t for you, if you hadn’t taken her parachute, she would still be alive. Opal, this is all your fault!”
I stood there, in front of everyone, enduring his accusations as he crushed me into the dirt.
It was at that moment I realized Eugene’s love for Sharon ran deep. Marrying me had never been about love. It was all for the Cook family fortune.
I let out a bitter laugh, looking at him as if he were the biggest joke I’d ever seen.
“Eugene, do you really think all of this is my fault? The plane was sabotaged by your rivals, and the parachutes were intentionally tampered with. Yet instead of blaming them, you’re blaming me. You’re nothing but a coward!”
