Eve's whole body stiffened to the last muscle at this question, and a frosty sensation ran through her nerves. Suddenly, her throat became tight again, making her breathing harder.

"He can't hurt you anymore," Ray whispered, sensing her silent pain. He immediately held her close. His lips kissed her lips, her cheeks, and then the burned area with tenderness. Eve clung to him as if he were a piece of driftwood saving her from drowning. He was there, keeping her afloat. Nevertheless, it took a while before she finally found the strength to tell him.

"It was a few months ago," she whispered, finding strength in Ryker's touch as he stroked her back. She remembered the exact day...

"Once again, Dylan had come home unexpectedly from a mission. That meant unexpected to me. Surely he knew, or could have told me sooner ... But again, he didn't think it was necessary. He never did."

She found it difficult to talk about her broken marriage. She didn't want Ryker to get a bad image of her—that he thought she was sensitive or anything like that, that she was whining or thin-skinned. "Anyway... Dylan just turned up at the door again and expected everything to be ready for him."

Anger boiled inside her like dry wood lit and smothered a hundred times with blazing fire, yet she always found the strength to feed a new flame.

"The first thing Dylan did was throw his things into the hallway, hug, and kiss me—as if everything was fine and as if we hadn't had a huge argument on the phone just before."

He was used to her keeping her head down. Kaylen didn't like to argue, and she often just complied or didn't even bring things up. She always told herself she didn't want to burden their little time with more arguments, especially for Liam. She swallowed and swallowed. But in the end, it just wasn't possible anymore. And that day was here.

"The argument on the phone was horrible, and I realized that my love for him was slowly but surely fading. My love for him couldn't make up for it anymore. He was never there for us; he drank more and more and..."

Eve paused and cleared her throat. She didn't want to air all the dirty laundry and problems in front of Ryker now. There was still something about the last vestige of respect; she didn't want to be as level-headed as Dylan.

"When I ended the kiss, any observant husband might have realized that all was not well ... and would have seen the signs that this marriage was ending. I had planned to finally talk to him about the divorce when he got home."

Eve pressed her lips together and snorted. "I was ... done. I was only wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. The first thing he said was, 'How do you look anyway?'" Her voice took on a harder tone. Anger that sharpened the otherwise soft sound. "I told him that Liam had been running a fever for the past few days, and I had to keep taking him to the doctor. I spent days and nights making soup, changing cool compresses, taking his temperature, and worrying. And I didn't even mention that I was ill myself. But the fact was, I felt terrible. And yet I endured it all while swallowing tablet after tablet. I didn't want him to accuse me of whining or being a bad mother again."

Because that was precisely Dylan's way. He always dismissed her problems, worries, and suffering as exaggerated or inappropriate. Of course, she realized that taking care of her sick child was a matter of course.

This was the fate of a mother. It didn't matter that she wasn't healthy. She had to look after her child because she loved him, and no one here could help her—no one to tell her to lie down herself. No father could drive Liam to the doctor or take them both there. No. When she was no longer fit to drive, she had to wrap her sick son up warm and get on the bus with him. She had to go shopping and cook if they needed something to eat, no matter how unwell she was.

Eve had never complained about it. She loved Liam more than anything in the world. But Dylan, who had never really experienced the care and effort involved in caring for a sick child, took her sacrifice for granted. He had no sympathy or pity for her.

"I was tired, exhausted, and my nerves were shot. I had hardly slept for several nights, if at all. Liam was finally feeling better, and his father's return made him happy. He was excited and jumping around him like a puppy. So Dylan claimed that the boy didn't like attending school and that I let him play me. He said I was too soft, spoiling the boy, and needed to be tougher. Otherwise, he would never become a real, strong man."

Eve could feel Ryker starting to boil, too. "A strong, big man like him, huh? One who beats his wife and drinks as soon as he gets home?" he hissed and hugged her so tightly that she almost lost her breath. But he noticed immediately and kissed her forehead while mumbling, "Sorry...". She could see his teeth clench and a muscle on his chin twitch. "Please, go on," he begged.

It might be inappropriate and not 'good,' but Ryker's anger at Dylan comforted her. Everyone had defended her husband for far too long, even some of her few 'friends.'

"The day was a nightmare. He went to take a shower and dropped everything as usual. He was used to me always putting it away to avoid arguments. But this time, I wasn't going to swallow everything again. I was determined not to." Eve sighed. "But I wanted to wait until Liam was in bed. I didn't want him to overhear the argument that would ensue. So while Dylan was sitting on the sofa watching football, he wanted to know what was for dinner and when I was going out to buy it."

She knew how she stared at Dylan then. He had noticed that she wasn't feeling well. But he had only seemed to care because she hadn't received him fresh and tidy. And then he wanted her to go shopping for him. She was stunned.

"I was already so frustrated at that point. So I told Dylan there was something simple and that I wouldn't shop that day. Heavens, I already knew what was going to happen! And I was right! The ensuing argument ended as usual: Dylan was angry and accused me of not asking too much of me to go to the shops and cook something decent. After all, he was finally back home after four months, and it was only appropriate."

She wrinkled her nose. When she thought about it now, she wished she had told him off. But Liam was awake; he was already crying, and she was busy trying to calm him down.

"Annoyed, he got dressed, took the keys, and stormed out the door. He stayed gone for a while, and I started to prepare dinner. When Dylan returned, he had a flower bouquet with him. He said he was sorry and didn't want to argue. It was always like that. Dylan was always convinced that a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates would fix everything."

"And, of course, you didn't want to argue in front of Liam and come across as 'the bad one,' did you?"

Eve nodded. She closed her eyes as the images came back to her memory. She remembered everything as if it were yesterday. The smells, the feelings. Her fingers were stiff as she stirred the Bolognese sauce with the wooden spoon.

"He sat on the sofa all evening and didn't lift a finger. I was busy setting the table and cooking while he poured himself one beer after another. Liam kept trying to get his attention... but it only made Dylan grumpier because he wanted to watch the game in peace. So I took Liam into the kitchen with me. Liam has always loved helping me cook, and that night, he got to wash the salad. Later, Dylan finally called for me to bring him a beer."

Ryker snorted, and Eve had to smile slightly. He was probably thinking the same thing that had been going through her mind at that moment: 'Get it yourself, lazy prick.'

"I should have held back ... After all, I knew what he could be like when he was drinking," she muttered, her brow furrowing. To this day, Eve was annoyed that she hadn't pulled herself together. If she had, things might have turned out differently. "But my tongue was quicker than my mind. So I told him to go and get it himself. Jesus, he was a Navy Seal. He spent all his time doing tough missions. And then he was too good to get his ass off the couch and go get his beer while I cooked dinner and kept Liam busy," she rumbled, her fingers twitching against Ryker's skin.

"And as if it wasn't enough that I said he had two healthy legs and knew where the fridge was, I also asked him about the fact that it was his sixth beer. And whether he shouldn't call it a night." Her voice began to crack. "I ... I was just out of my mind. It was a shitty day, we argued so many times, and it never helped. It just got worse and worse. I didn't know what to feel. There was so much frustration, disappointment, and loneliness." Her breathing was shaky because the emotions were swirling even now. But Ryker held her in his arms.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he said - and didn't realize how comfortable these words were for her. Even if they didn't change anything these days. Eve had reproached, hated, and loathed herself so often. Cursed for her words, her feelings... for waiting too long to get divorced and then not being able to wait for this evening until Dylan was sober again. Everything, in her eyes, had... gone to shit.

"Dylan approached me like a bull on a red rag. And that's how I felt, too. I was waving it, and I still didn't stop. I knew what was going to happen. It wasn't our first argument. But I couldn't stop... I just couldn't shut up anymore."