Chapter 4

Mark came home late that night. He saw my pale face but said nothing about it.

"I'll be staying at Jessica's more often," he announced, not looking at me. "She's not comfortable being alone after the... incident. It's better for her recovery."

I didn't argue. I didn't have the energy. I just nodded, my mind already miles away, calculating, planning. His cruelty was a gift. It erased any lingering doubt, any shred of affection I might have held from a life long past. He hated me. He wanted me gone. The feeling was now mutual.

For the next five months, I lived a double life. By day, I was the quiet, recovering wife. I cleaned the apartment. I endured Jessica's smug visits and Mark's cold indifference. They thought I was broken, a shell of a person waiting to be discarded.

But by night, when they were gone, I studied. I pulled out my old law books, the pages worn and familiar. I reviewed case law, torts, constitutional law, everything. The burn scars on my back ached as I hunched over my desk, but the pain focused me. Every legal principle I mastered was another brick in the wall of my new life.

I was getting stronger, physically and mentally. The baby inside me was growing, a silent, constant companion in my secret rebellion.

Then, a week before the bar exam, Mark' s behavior shifted. He came home with a bag full of baby gifts-a tiny onesie, a soft blanket, a stuffed animal.

"I was thinking," he said, his voice laced with a concern that was so fake it made my skin crawl. "You've been under a lot of stress. The fire, the pregnancy... I think you should see a specialist. For pregnancy-related stress. Just to be safe."

He was laying a trap. I knew it. In our first life, he used my "emotional state" to undermine me at every turn.

"Thank you, Mark," I said, my voice carefully neutral. "That's... thoughtful."

The next day, my phone buzzed. It was a text from a classmate. "Sarah, you need to see this." It was a screenshot from a private social media group. Jessica was boasting.

"Mark is such a sweetheart," her post read. "He's so worried about Sarah's mental state. He had her bar exam registration voided, citing 'extreme pregnancy-related psychological distress.' He said a courtroom is no place for her right now. And he even managed to get my name put on the roster instead! Wish me luck, everyone! #BestBoyfriend #LawyerLife"

The air was knocked out of me. He hadn't just sabotaged me. He had stolen my place. He had given my future to her.

Rage, cold and pure, flooded my veins. I walked out of my apartment and banged on Jessica's door. She opened it, a triumphant smirk on her face. Mark was behind her, hosting a small "good luck on the bar" party for her with their political friends.

"Mark," I said, my voice shaking. "What did you do?"

He looked at me, his expression icy. "I did what was best for you, Sarah. A mother's place is at home with her child. Jessica is more deserving of a legal career. She has the drive. You don't."