Chapter 2My Secret Husband: Choosing My Childhood Sweetheart Over My Long-Term Love.

"This is Megan's Band-Aid. You're always picking on her, but see how nice she still is to you?"

"Can't you learn from her? Stop being so petty."

So, all along, he thought I was petty, jealous of his little girl crush.

I felt the cuts sting, and red patches started appearing all over my face.

"What's in the Band-Aid?"

Mark wasn't used to my sharp tone and faltered slightly.

"Uh, I think it's peach scented."

"Megan knows I'm allergic to peaches."

How could she not know?

Once, Megan deliberately gave me a dress for a party. She'd secretly rubbed peach fuzz inside it.

I didn't notice anything until the party started. My whole body turned red, my face swelled up like a balloon.

Mark thought I did it on purpose just to embarrass him.

He looked at me, writhing in allergic agony, with nothing but contempt.

"Figures. Straight out of the sticks. Can't even handle a simple party."

"She's really punching way above her weight being with me."

Megan, meanwhile, put on her best pitiful act.

"Mark, maybe Sarah didn't like the dress I gave her? She looks really unwell."

Of course, Mark wouldn't let Megan feel the slightest bit wronged.

"Uncultured thing. You're just embarrassing me."

My throat was swelling shut. I wanted to say something, but couldn't get a word out.

I knew Mark wouldn't believe me anyway.

Finally, I was taken to the hospital. As I was being helped out, Megan whispered in my ear.

"I know you're allergic to peach fuzz. I did it on purpose."

"That's what you get for stealing Mark. It's karma."

Someone who hates you will stoop to anything to hurt you, while the person who supposedly loves you doesn't even know your allergies.

Eventually, a shred of guilt must have pricked Mark, because he drove me to the hospital.

The car was full of traces of another woman.

A pink Hello Kitty keychain, the scent of gardenia perfume, even a half-eaten bag of Flamin' Hot Cheetos on the floor.

Mark was a notorious neat freak. Once, I ate a Snickers bar in his car because my blood sugar was low.

He kicked me out immediately.

"You got crumbs all over the car! Are you disgusting?"

It was below freezing, maybe 20 degrees Fahrenheit. I walked for almost an hour in a thin sweater before I could get a cab.

I went home with a raging fever.

And Mark just said:

"So I made you walk a couple of miles? Do you have to be so dramatic?"

Mark noticed me looking at the car's interior and seemed a bit sheepish.

"Megan's always forgetting things. I'll give them back to her later."

My head was pounding from the allergic reaction, and I didn't have the energy to listen to his excuses.

Suddenly, Mark's phone buzzed. He snatched it up immediately.

His face lit up with undisguised joy.

"Megan? How are you?"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming right over. Stay right there, don't move."

He hung up. The car speeded up abruptly, the inertia making me feel even sicker.

"Megan cut her hand. I need to go check on her."

Mark didn't drive to the hospital. He parked downstairs from Megan's apartment.

I watched him go upstairs, feeling my breathing get heavier and heavier.

I stared at the lights in Megan's apartment until they went out. He never came back down.

In that instant, despair washed over me completely. The Mark who promised to always protect me died that night.

With my last ounce of strength, I dialed a number I hadn't called in far too long.

"Help me."