Chapter 10
The screen flickered to life, and there she was—Rachel Carter, half-naked and straddling him.
Julian sat there with his head tilted back, eyes closed, completely still as she undid his shirt, one button at a time. The videos kept coming. One after another. Some from just weeks ago. Others dated a year back—the very beginning of his twisted affair with her.
“So she knew all along…”
Julian’s voice was hoarse, gutted. The weight of betrayal hit him like a goddamn truck.
He had sworn he’d love Isla forever. He was the one who asked her to stay. And yet—he was the one who broke her.
An hour later, Rachel’s hospital door flew open with a crash.
She looked up, startled, forcing a shaky smile as Julian stormed in, his face darker than a thundercloud.
“Julian? What are you doing—”
He threw a phone at her chest. It bounced onto her lap. On the screen were all the video files she’d sent to Isla’s email account.
“Explain.”
Rachel’s face turned a sickly pale. She snatched up the phone, scrambling for words.
“These… these weren’t from me. I swear—”
Julian grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the bed, the veins in his hands bulging like they might burst.
“I warned you. I told you—don’t ever drag your bullshit to her face. And this is what you did?”
Rachel gasped, clawing at his wrist, panic rising in her eyes.
“I’m pregnant! With your child! Your mom begged me to keep it—”
“A child?”
Julian laughed, sharp and bitter. His grip tightened.
“You think I give a damn about that?”
Rachel sobbed, kicking wildly. “It’s your baby!”
He let go, letting her collapse into a coughing, trembling heap.
Then he grabbed her chin, dragging her face up to meet his.
“Listen real close. Even if you have that kid, I’ll make sure he never takes his first breath.”
Rachel trembled violently, backing away until she hit the headboard. “You’re fucking insane.”
Julian sneered, picked up the fruit knife from the table, and drove it into the wall right next to her ear. The blade hummed as it sank into drywall, just barely grazing her skin.
“You sent those videos to her. You pushed her over the edge. And you know what I do to people who hurt her.”
He turned and slammed the door behind him, leaving Rachel staring at the quivering knife, her sobs finally breaking loose.
Julian stumbled back home.
The hallway light flicked on as he entered. He froze.
Isla was standing at the table, stirring soup with a soft, familiar rhythm. The golden light haloed around her hair, casting her in a glow that felt almost holy.
“Isla…”
He ran to her, arms out—
And passed straight through her.
The illusion shattered like glass.
Julian gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white.
Then he heard her voice. Soft. Sweet. Like it used to be.
“Will you be home early tonight?”
He dropped to his knees, face in his hands, a broken sob ripping from his chest.
“Yeah… yeah, baby. I’ll come home early. I’ll come home every damn day.”
But this time, there was no answer.
He didn’t know how long he stayed like that until loud banging shook him back to life.
Mrs. Carter stormed in, slamming a stack of papers on the table.
“Isla signed the divorce papers. Sign yours. Rachel’s pregnant—don’t let the baby be born a bastard.”
Julian looked up slowly. Then he laughed. Low, deranged.
“What are you even saying, Mom? Isla’s right here. She wouldn’t divorce me. She’s still with me.”
Mrs. Carter froze, hairs on end.
“Julian… that woman’s dead.”
“Dead?”
Julian looked past her shoulder, toward nothing. Then he reached out, like grasping someone’s hand.
“She’s right here. Can’t you see her?”
