CHAPTER NINETEEN
Henrik
The Reckoning
I waited until Deangelo left before I went into Bryony's room.
I'd heard them talking. Heard him confess his love. Heard her say it back.
And I knew—I knew it was over.
But I had to see her. Had to try to apologize, even though I knew it wouldn't change anything.
I pushed open the door. She was sitting up in bed now, looking stronger than she had in days. But when she saw me, her expression hardened.
"Henrik."
"Bryony." I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. "I'm so glad you're awake. I've been so worried—"
"Don't." Her voice was cold. "Don't pretend you care. Don't pretend you've been worried. I know the truth."
"What truth?"
"About Amelia. About the affair. About the life insurance policy you took out on me six months ago."
My stomach dropped. "Bryony, I didn't—"
"Didn't what? Didn't cheat on me? Didn't take out a policy on my life right around the time you started fucking your mistress? Which lie are you going to tell me now, Henrik?"
"I didn't try to kill you," I said desperately. "I swear, I didn't. The police caught the guy—it was some stalker. I had nothing to do with it."
"Maybe you didn't hire him. But you didn't protect me either. I told you I felt like someone was watching me. I told you I was scared. And you dismissed me. You called me paranoid."
"I know. I know, and I'm so sorry—"
"Sorry doesn't fix this." She looked at me with such contempt that it physically hurt. "You destroyed our marriage, Henrik. You destroyed me. And for what? For some woman who would fuck a married man and laugh at his wife with him. Don’t sit here and pretend it didn't mean anything to you?"
"She didn't—"
"I don't care!" Her voice rose, and she winced, pressing a hand to her ribs. "I don't care about her. I don't care about you. I just want you out of my life."
"Bryony, please—"
"I want a divorce. Luca's already drawing up the papers. You're going to sign them, and then you're going to leave me alone. Forever."
I stared at her, seeing the finality in her eyes. There was no coming back from this. No second chance.
"Okay," I said quietly. "Okay. I'll sign the papers."
"Good."
"For what it's worth," I said, "I am sorry. I know that doesn't mean anything to you now. But I am. I'm sorry for everything I did to you. Everything I didn't do. You deserved so much better than me."
"Yeah, I know I did." She looked away. "Now get out. Your time playing the perfect husband has come to an end."
I left without another word.
And as I walked down the hospital corridor, I realized that I'd lost everything that mattered. My wife. My reputation. My self-respect.
All because I'd been too selfish to see what I had until it was gone.