I Paid For His Lies With My Life And Blood

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Declan Holloway chased me down after the cheatingcrashed his vintage Porsche, nearly killed himself, and somehow, woke up with amnesia.

The doctors called it early-onset Alzheimer's, but the only memory he clung to, the only person his broken mind retained, was me.

Everyone said it was proofthat Declans love for me was visceral, an instinct carved into his soul.

I only felt sick.

I forbade him from coming within ten feet of me. Every towel, every glass, every single utensil in the house was labeled with my name and strictly compartmentalized.

The day he was desperately thirsty and reached for my own, labeled water glass, I hurled it against the stone fireplace in front of the entire staff.

He was terrified. His eyes were shattered and vacant.

In that moment, a sliver of sharp, acidic grief broke open inside me.

Hes not the old Declan, I told myself. Hes a clean slate.

Later, he attended a small gathering of his old college buddies. I hesitated for an hour before driving over to pick him up, only to hear the low, amused voices from behind the door.

Grant, look, playing the amnesia card just to mess with your wifes head? Its a little much, even for you.

Ronnies devotion is insane, man. You know she sacrificed her pinky finger for him back in the day, right?

Declan chuckled, lighting a cigarette.

Ronnies flawless, sure. Except for one thing: she cant tolerate Scarlett.

The more she tries to cut me off, the more agonizing the internal conflict for her. Once she learns to be the bigger womanthe right kind of wifeIll ease up. Eventually.

Outside the door, my tears hit the marble floor, silent and heavy.

Declan. Were done. There is no 'eventually.'

Your illness is fake.

But mine? Mine is real.

The late-autumn rain turned to snow, melting against my coat. An icy draft snaked in through the doorframe, carrying the broken snippets of conversation.

Grant, youre being too cruel to her. If she loves you that much, why not just grovel and ask for forgiveness? Why the fake amnesia?

Declan flicked ash from his cigarette. His voice was a low rumble.

You dont get it. Ronnie is soft-hearted, but shes also a lioness. We agreed shed be the only one. If I don't play the victim, shell never stop holding the infidelity over my head.

More importantly, this is for Scarlett. She heard about the crash and miscarried. If I hadnt immediately flown her out of the country, she might not have made it.

And Ronnie? She got a harmless phobia. Compared to what Scarlett endured, what is that?

The air in the hallway solidified.

After a long pause, someone muttered hoarsely, Grant, arent you afraid shell find out and truly lose hope in you?

Declan cut him off with a short, cold laugh.

Hope? If she cant handle this level of discomfort as the wife of Declan Holloway, then shes not the woman I thought she was. Scarlett is different. She only has me. I am her entire world.

His final words were a harsh whisper: Forget everything you heard in here. All of it.

I bit down on my lip until the metallic tang of blood filled my mouth.

Scarlett should be here soon, shouldnt she? a voice chirped inside.

I spun around, scrambling to flee, but the sudden glare of blinding headlights froze me in place.

The shriek of tires was the last thing I heard before the impact sent me flying.

When I looked up, Declan was rushing out, and Scarlett was already clinging to his chest.

It wasnt my fault! She just lunged right out in front of me

My hair was loose, blood streaked across my face.

Declan didn't even look. He lifted his foot and landed a vicious kick to my back. The sickening thud of bone against concrete was distinct.

I curled into a ball, and a wad of cash landed on my shoulder.

Trying to stage an accident for a payout? he sneered. This should cover your funeral.

Then, he slipped an arm around Scarlett and turned away.

Why didnt you let me come pick you up? His voice was sickeningly gentle.

Grant, maybe we should keep a little distance I dont want to upset your wife.

You little fraud I heard the soft, wet sound of him kissing her. I told you I missed you, didnt I? And you came back.

I lay crumpled on the pavement, the grit mixing with the crimson on my face.

The truth was, the Sinclair family business went under a year ago.

And the Holloway family, due to Declan's supposed amnesia, had scratched his name from the list of heirs.

The pricey imported neuro-regeneration shots he supposedly needed? The ones costing a fortune? I had sold off my jewelry, then I sold plasmapumping the last of my savings into that fake treatment.

My own doctor had warned me: Tatum, keep this up and you'll collapse.

But watching him look at me with that confused, heartbreaking gaze, calling my nameI transferred the last of my own medical funds to him.

I looked at the scattered bills, and a thin, hollow laugh escaped me.

So much money.

But it was too little. Not enough to buy back all the years of my love, all the sacrifices, all the life I'd given him.

After a quick, perfunctory bandaging at the nearest clinic, I returned home.

Declan was sitting at the dining table. His eyes lit up instantly when he saw me, just like they used to when he waited up for me back in the beginning.

Wife I forgot how to use the forks. Will you feed me?

I glanced at the breadcrumbs stuck to his jacket.

I remembered. Declan Holloway had an absolute, near-pathological contempt for anything less than intellectual perfection. He had a photographic memory and loathed incompetence.

Now, he was sitting here, willing to play the helpless fool who couldn't even manage a pair of chopsticks.

This was his love?

Seeing my silence, his eyes welled up. His voice trembled.

Wife, please dont be disgusted with me. I learned the multiplication tables today. Ill recite them for you.

I didnt say a word. I simply handed him a long serving spoon.

The movement pulled the fractured muscles in my back, making my face go white with pain.

He took it cautiously, careful not to brush my hand. Wife, are you hurt?

I stared at his perfectly acted, phony compassion. Im fine. Just got hit by a car.

The drivers boyfriend thought I was staging an accident. He gave me a good, hard kick.

Declans pupils constricted. He looked genuinely concerned.

Where are you hurt? Im taking you to the Emergency Room!

I watched his panicked, over-the-top expression and forced a smile.

Its been handled. Right now, theres something more important I need to tell you.

Declan scooted closer, crouching on the floor, looking up at me pathetically, his eyes brimming with fake tears.

I looked down at his portrait of a tender, worried husband.

Suppressing the sharp ache in my chest, I spoke the words slowly.

Lets get a divorce.

Declan froze, then violently grabbed my hand and pressed it to his cheek.

Is it because you think Im stupid? His voice shook. I wont divorce you I only have you.

Only me?

I managed a smile that felt more like a grimace, then pulled my hand free and walked toward the bathroom.

The water ran for a long time. I realized Id forgotten to bring clothes, so I wrapped the towel around me and walked barefoot to the bedroom door.

I stopped dead.

I heard his soft, gentle voice: Scarlett, dont pout The punishment isnt over yet.

Be a good girl. Ill see you at the clinic tomorrow. We cant start trying until youre fully recovered. Dont worry, no one is going to hurt you this time.

I stood there for a moment, then walked silently away.

My tears were hot, but my heart was utterly cold.

I woke up the next morning to find myself in the master bed. The comforter was new, freshly laundered.

Declan was standing by the door, wearing sterile gloves and a face mask.

Wife, you got mad because I touched your hand yesterday, didnt you? Thats why you wouldnt sleep in here.

I, I promise I didnt touch you! The bedding is all brand new! I just I saw you passed out on the table, and you looked so tired

I watched his panicked, clumsy explanation and gave a faint smile.

Do you remember what I said yesterday?

He shook his head blankly. His eyes were clean and innocent, like fresh snow.

What was it, wife? I dont recall.

I slowly sat up. The injury in my back was an icy, knifing pain.

Nothing important. Its your check-up day today. Im going with you.

A flash of genuine panic, quick as lightning, crossed his eyes.

Its fine, I can go alone.

I smiled at him, and for the first time, I reached out and adjusted the lapel of his perfectly straight jacket.

Nothing is more important to me than you are.

I meant it.

I meant it so much that Declan instinctively grabbed my hand, his eyes red-rimmed.

Wife, youre finally accepting me again?

I didnt answer. I just looked at him, letting him hold me tightly, letting him promise that we would never be apart again.

At the hospital, I was stopped outside the MRI room where Declan was headed.

Family members arent allowed in the magnetic resonance imaging suite.

Im also a patient. I showed the nurse my own lab order.

My results came back fast.

It seems the car accident impacted you more than we thought. The initial trauma caused a slow bleed, leading to an abnormal subarachnoid space. You are at immediate risk of sudden death. You must be hospitalized right now.

The doctor immediately drew up the admission papers, which I tore to shreds.

No treatment. If anyone asks, please maintain my confidentiality.

As I left the exam room, the door to the adjoining suite was slightly ajar. I caught a glimpse of Declans back.

He was bent over, gently kissing Scarletts lips. She was on her tiptoes, her hands linked behind his neck.

His check-up. This was his check-up.

A frantic throbbing started behind my eyes, like something was trying to claw its way out of my skull.

I sank to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. The last thing I saw before the darkness took over was his face, contorted in a mask of alarm, rushing toward me.

Tatum

I dreamed I was dead.

At my funeral, Declan wore a black suit, his expression a perfectly measured grief.

Three months later, his and Scarletts baby was born.

They named him Intentan echo of my name.

Scarlett leaned into Declans arms and murmured, A way to remember my sister.

Declan kissed her forehead. Its all over now.

The irony was a bitter burn.

Even my death was just a footnote in the grand, sweeping drama of their love story.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the passenger seat of our SUV. Declan was leaning over me, buckling my seatbelt.

Youre awake? His voice was soft. You collapsed at the clinic. You scared the hell out of me.

Lets go home. You need to rest.

I stared blankly at his face, inches from mine. His eyelashes were long, and when he looked down, he always appeared so focused, so deeply in love.

My phone vibrated in my palm. A video message from an unknown number.

I put in my earbuds and pressed play.

Declans low, amused voice was sickeningly clear.

Let me check how well youve recovered.

Scarletts voice was syrupy and coy. Youre so bad Be gentle.

The video was short. The last frame, before the screen went black, was the platinum wedding band on Declans left hand.

[Sister, I recognized you in the parking lot.]

[I stepped on the gas on purpose. I wanted to see who Grant would protect.]

[Now you know. He kicked you and held me.]

[Oh, and you havent told him your family is bankrupt, have you?]

[The expensive serum you bled yourself dry for? The one-thousand-dollar-a-vial stuff? It went straight into the trash. That doesnt hurt, does it?]

[I honestly cant think of a more pathetic woman than you, so heres a little wedding anniversary gift.]

The message ended.

The car stopped.

Declan walked around and opened my door.

Wife, let me carry you in.

I didnt move.

I was cold, rigid, a husk with the soul sucked out.

The arm he slipped under me tightened. His voice was muffled against the top of my head.

Wife, youre trembling. Hold on to me if youre cold.

Declan set me on the sofa and carefully draped a cashmere throw over me.

My phone rang. The property manager said there was an urgent package that required my signature.

Declan handed me a glass of water. You stay put. Ill get it.

I took a few sips and heard his footsteps disappear outside.

After an unknown length of time, a sudden, heavy weakness paralyzed my body.

I tried to call his name, but the door was violently shoved open. Three strange, burly men crowded into the living room.

Tatum Sinclair, right? The beefy guy with the neck tattoo held up his phone. Time to pay your debts.

My pupils shrank. My voice was a terrified, strangled croak.

I didnt borrow

A calloused hand slammed over my jaw, cutting me off.

If you dont pay, dont blame us for getting nasty.

A brutal slap knocked my head sideways. My vision went black.

Boss, this chick is a looker A greedy hand slid up my leg.

They say the Sinclair heiress was the prettiest thing in the city. Look at the face, the figure!

You want to die? The lead man snarled. The client said whoever actually touches her isnt walking out of here in one piece.

What is his deal? He hires us to shoot his own wife?

You idiot. He truly loves the other Miss Sinclair. These photos are just a power move, a way to keep his wife in line.

Through the hazy fog, I finally understood the wedding anniversary gift Scarlett had promised.

For a few precious seconds, my heart simply stopped beating.

My blurry vision registered the sound of a key turning in the lock.

The flashbulbs went off again.

I opened my eyes to see Declans bloodshot eyes and haggard face.

Tatum, youre awake His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper on wood. You scared me to death.

He spoke in frantic, broken sentences.

Hed gone to get the package and somehow forgot to lock the door. When he came back, the house was a mess. And I was unconscious on the bed, clothes torn and mussed.

Thank God youre okay

He choked up, burying his face in my palm. I failed you. I couldnt protect you.

Slowly, deliberately, I pulled my hand out of his tight grip.

Your memory seems to be improving, doesnt it?

His eyes widened in genuine alarm.

Are you mad? Im so sorry! I forgot to tell you in the panic!

Look, heres the scan. My brain is totally normal. Im completely recovered!

I didnt even glance at the medical imaging.

Declan gritted his teeth, then swung his arm and delivered a harsh slap across his own face.

His cheek immediately flared red and swollen, but his gaze was even more desperate, more pathetic.

Its all my fault. Slap me, yell at me, but dont shut me out.

He was like a child rushing to present a treasured item. He pulled a velvet box and a small, delicate slice of cream cake from behind his back.

Its our anniversary today!

He opened the box, revealing a slender diamond bracelet.

I bought you a gift. Do you like it?

Without asking, he took my limp wrist and fastened the clasp.

I lowered my eyes, gazing at the glittering bracelet, and finally spoke. My voice was dry, like a broken bellows.

Declan, do you love me?

Declans movement stopped.

The air solidified for several agonizing seconds.

He grasped my hand again, the force of his grip painful, his eyes focused with an intensity that felt like it was trying to brand itself onto my soul.

Yes. He said it, every syllable, with the solemnity of an oath. Tatum Sinclair, I love you.

The phrase was painfully familiar.

Hed said it when he knelt in the rain after he cheated. Hed said it when he put the ring on my finger at our wedding. Hed even said it the first time he recognized me after the fake amnesia.

Every time, I believed him.

Believed him without reservation, believed him until Id given everything I had.

How laughable.

I looked into the bottomless well of sincerity in his eyes and felt an overwhelming, bone-deep fatigue.

The sound of his phone broke the silence.

He glanced at the screen, then grabbed his jacket.

Theres a lead on those bastards. I have to go immediately.

He stopped at the door, turning back, his eyes resolute.

Wife, wait for me!

His footsteps faded. The house fell into a deadly silence.

Ten minutes later, my phone screen lit up.

A voice recording from Scarlett.

Should I leak the rest of the photos now?

After a short pause, Declans voiceterrifyingly calmreplied.

Not yet. Wait.

You dont still have feelings for your wife, do you?

His voice dropped lower, colder.

Dont be ridiculous. The photos are leverage. If she gives you any trouble, you show them to her.

Scarlett laughed, then her voice turned tearful.

But is her punishment just a few photos? We lost a baby, Grant.

Declans voice hardened. Relax. I will make sure you get justice.

I listened quietly, tears streaming down my face.

The place in my chest that had been raw, bloody, and mutilated finally stopped hurting.

Only an empty, barren numbness remained.

I picked up my phone. As I lowered my head, blood began to drip from my nose and eyes.

I sent Declan a text message.

Grant Holloway. Ive run dry. My blood, my trust, my love. Is the curtain finally ready to fall on your performance?

Then, I closed my eyes and let my phone fall from my hand.

The next second, it started ringing frantically.