Jasmine Blooms After the Ruins

Three years after our divorce, I ran into my ex-husband at the hospital. He was carrying supplements, accompanying his mistress to a prenatal appointment. I was there for a follow-up on the legs they had broken at the Wifely Virtue Academy. At the sight of my wheelchair, his knuckles turned white. “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up when you got hurt?” I answered calmly, “You blocked me.” After a long silence, he draped his jacket over me. “Sorry. I forgot. Come home with me. I promised your dad I’d take good care of you.” I backed my wheelchair away, making my refusal clear. He let out an angry laugh. “All these years, and you still haven’t learned to behave?” I smiled without answering. It wasn’t that I hadn’t learned. My husband simply had a keen nose. He would get jealous if I wore another man’s clothes. “You get cold easily. Don’t make me worry, okay?” Ethan Hayes spoke gently, as though we had never separated. He picked up his jacket to drape it over me again. Then the word “paralysis” on my medical chart stopped him cold. “Claire, it’s been years. Ava and I stopped blaming you a long time ago.” “Come home. I’ll find you the best specialists.” I declined politely. “That really isn’t necessary. My husband is coming to pick me up.” Ethan’s brows drew together, but before he could speak, Ava Collins emerged from the examination room, her belly slightly rounded. She froze when she saw me, then broke into an affectionate smile. “Claire! They let you out of the Wifely Virtue Academy?” “I hope you won’t be doing any of those disgusting things again.” Her voice carried. Everyone around us looked at me with contempt. Some even took secret pictures and whispered. Ethan stepped in front of me, his warning sharp. “Ava. Watch what you say.” Ava pouted innocently. “It’s just been so long since I saw Claire. I couldn’t help myself.” She smiled at me, her eyes full of smug provocation. “Today marks a hundred days of my pregnancy. Ethan’s throwing me a party. He even gave the auction house an unlimited bid to buy me jewelry.” “He also had all that jasmine you planted pulled out and replaced with my favorite roses.” “Did they serve Michelin-starred food and champagne at the academy, Claire?” Only after saying it did she seem to realize she had slipped up. Ava covered her mouth, looking embarrassed. “Please don’t take that the wrong way. I was just wondering if you’d like to come.” “It’s okay if you don’t have a dress. You can wear one I don’t want anymore. We won’t even make you show an invitation.” Ethan shot her an icy look. “That’s enough.” He handed me a card, his voice softening again. “When you come home, I’ll throw you an even bigger party.” “Take this. Buy yourself a new dress and some jewelry.” I raised an eyebrow. He had actually given me a supplementary card linked to his own account. Ava looked so upset she nearly dug her nails through her palms. I found it funny, but I felt nothing more. “No, thank you. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness. I won’t get in your way.” “As I said, my husband is coming.” After a long pause, Ethan spoke hoarsely. “Claire, stop this. After everything you did, you didn’t even have friends left. How could you have a husband?” “I know you resent me. But you’re disabled now. Who can you rely on if you don’t come home with me?” He was right about one thing. Once, he had been the only person I could rely on. Ethan’s father was a compulsive gambler. His mother had remarried and left long before. Whenever his father came home, Ethan got beaten. His thin body was always covered in bruises. I used to take rubbing alcohol and bandages from home for him. After a while, Dad asked if I’d been getting into fights. “Or have you been eating the bandages?” Ethan didn’t want anyone to know, so I kept his secret. Until Dad saw him for himself and sighed in heartache. “Come have dinner with us, son.” My mother had died when I was young. Dad raised me alone. Taking care of me was already hard enough, but he always set aside an extra portion for Ethan. Then Ethan’s father went to prison for murder. Looking at the boy who had no one left, Dad asked, “Would you like to live with Claire and me?” Ethan nodded. Dad filed the adoption papers right away. He worked three jobs to keep us both in school. The year Ethan started college, Dad worked himself to death. His last words were a plea for Ethan to take care of me. Ethan wiped away his tears and held me as I sobbed. “You have me now.” “No matter what happens, I’ll always love you.”After Dad died, the shock left me unable to speak. On top of his classes, Ethan worked himself ragged at part-time jobs. It was the only way he could afford my tuition and medical bills. In just three months, he lost a frightening amount of weight. I was terrified he would meet the same end as Dad. I forced myself to find a distraction and fell in love with painting. My teacher said I had talent and should pursue art. So Ethan did everything he could to send me to the best studio. Then, one year, a hurricane brought all of Harbor City to a standstill. I was trapped in a small shop beside the studio. The water had reached my calves. And it kept rising. Emergency crews closed the roads and ordered Ethan to get upstairs. But he pushed past them, fighting the wind and floodwater. When he finally found me, covered in injuries, I cried, “I’m sorry, Ethan.” He threw his arms around me, weeping with joy. Over the next few years, I got into one of the country’s top art schools. Before I even graduated, I held my first solo exhibition and was hailed as a gifted young artist. Ethan, meanwhile, built his company from nothing and rose to the top of the business world. That year, he confessed his love for me and swore at Dad’s grave that I was the only woman he would ever marry. “Dad, if I ever betray Claire, may I die a horrible death!” Back when his love seemed so pure, he bought an entire art museum for me. He stayed by my side, day and night. Our lavish wedding made national headlines, and he gave me the wonderful life he had promised. I thought I was truly happy. Until he began sponsoring Ava Collins. Her father gambled, favored boys, and beat both her and her mother. She had rarely had enough to eat. Her skeletal body was covered in scars. Just like Ethan’s had been. I understood that childhood trauma could follow you like rain that never stopped. So I never tried to stop him from helping her. I even sent gifts to Ava, who had just started college. But somewhere along the way, the girl we were sponsoring became the person Ethan cared about most. A sticker marked the passenger seat as hers. He picked out her clothes himself. He canceled meetings to defend her whenever someone supposedly bullied her. One call from her could pull him away from our dates. “Ava isn’t feeling well. She’s just a young girl. I’m worried.” But he had forgotten that I was only two years older than her. I cried. I fought with him. But the more I protested, the colder he became. “Can’t you behave for once?” “I’ve put up with you paying people to bully her, accusing her of cheating, and getting her financial aid revoked.” “Have I spoiled you that badly?” I was stunned. I had never done any of those things. I wanted to explain, to show him that Ava and I got along. So I went to her birthday party. Ethan asked what she wished for. She smiled coyly. “I want Claire to give me the bracelet she’s wearing.” That bracelet had belonged to Dad. It was my last precious keepsake. No one knew that better than Ethan. Yet when I refused, he forcibly took it off me. That was the first night I didn’t come home. I kept waiting for him to come looking for me. I sat outside our house all night. By morning, I had a fever. When I finally went inside, I found Ava straddling him, kissing him. I broke down, rushed over, and slapped her. I threw everything I could grab at her. But Ethan shielded her with his body, pink lip gloss still staining his mouth. “It was an accident. Can you stop making a scene?”An accident. What a convenient word. I saved the evidence and exposed her at her college. Ava became the mistress everyone despised. But Ethan, who cared so much about his pride, held a press conference and took all the blame. He even produced documents claiming I was mentally ill. Public opinion turned against me. People threw paint at me and vandalized my exhibitions. I cried and asked him why. His expression was cold. “She’s a sensitive girl. How is she supposed to live with herself when you spread rumors like this?” I slapped him hard and demanded, “What did you promise my dad?” “How am I supposed to live after this?” He tossed me a bank card. Then he asked, “She’s the only other woman I have, and I’m still guaranteeing you a comfortable life. Isn’t that enough?” When I didn’t answer, he scattered a handful of cash in front of me. He gave a quiet, contemptuous laugh. “Don’t be so greedy.” “Your dad wouldn’t want to see you like this. Acting like a lunatic.” My heart shattered. Before I could speak, Ava burst in, looking terrified. Her clothes were torn, her makeup smeared. She trembled all over, crying pitifully. “Claire, if you hate me, I’ll leave. But why would you have someone assault me?” “And post it online…” I checked my phone. A video of Ava being dragged into an alley and sexually assaulted was trending. The IP address that uploaded it matched mine. Before I could explain, Ethan dumped me in a crime-ridden slum. “I spoiled you for too long. You thought you could get away with anything.” “Maybe you’ll understand once you’ve suffered the way she did.” He left me there for three full days. By the end, I barely looked human. The day he brought me back, I asked for a divorce. He frowned. “I only made you live with poor people for three days. Is that really necessary?” Necessary? Every time I closed my eyes, greasy hands and a foul stench threatened to swallow me whole. I didn’t want to explain. I only wanted a divorce. Then something happened to Ava during dance practice. Someone had hidden nails in her dance shoes. Her legs were injured. She would never dance again. And once again, every piece of evidence pointed to me. I hired a private investigator and showed Ethan the footage. He still refused to believe me. He left me penniless in the divorce and sent me to the Wifely Virtue Academy. “When you learn to behave, I’ll bring you home.” Now, I really had learned. At the very least, neither he nor Ava could stir anything in my heart anymore. I smiled calmly. “You’re right. The old Claire Bennett had no one to rely on but you.” “But I’m married now. You don’t need to concern yourself, Mr. Hayes.” He swallowed, struggling to speak. “I know the punishment was a little harsh. But I couldn’t stand watching you become a bad person.” “I never sent you to prison, did I?” “You don’t have to pretend with me. I won’t abandon you.” Ava nodded, looking at me with pity. “Exactly, Claire. Making up an imaginary husband is honestly pretty sad.” “Why don’t I pay your medical bills and take you to see a psychiatrist?” Before I could answer, a familiar voice called out. “Claire.” Noah Sterling walked toward me, carrying jasmine and a jacket. He sighed. “I knew it. No jacket again.” “Did you sneak out when the housekeeper wasn’t looking?” He draped the jacket over my shoulders with practiced ease. When I didn’t push him away, Ethan’s gaze chilled. “Claire, who is he?” I lifted my hand, my fingers laced through Noah’s. I made every word clear. “My husband.” Only then did Noah look up. The moment Ethan saw his face, his expression changed. “There’s no way Noah Sterling is your husband!”