Chapter 1 Five Years of Love, All for Nothing
Waverly Knight was in a car accident. As she lay in the operating room, her mind flashed back to the moments before the crash and a photo on her phone.
In the photo, Beckham Lynch was holding another woman, his expression full of tenderness as if she were a long-lost treasure he had finally recovered. His eyes were filled with care and devotion.
Waverly had been staring at that photo in a daze when the accident happened.
She was Beckham’s wife. But the woman in the photo? She was Beckham’s first love.
Waverly had been married to Beckham for five years, yet she had never seen him look at her with such warmth. At that moment, her heart felt like it had been torn to pieces.
His first love had returned. And as for her?
What did she mean to him? Did she even have a place in his heart?
A desperate thought took root in Waverly’s mind. She wanted to find out once and for all if Beckham cared for her, even a little.
When she opened her eyes, the white ceiling of the hospital room came into view. She was dazed and confused.
“You’re awake.” A cold, magnetic voice reached her ears.
Waverly turned her head and was met with a sharp, handsome face. Beckham’s deep-set features exuded authority, and though his expression was blank, his eyes were naturally captivating.
But now, those eyes held no trace of warmth as they looked at her.
Waverly blinked in bewilderment and asked, “Who are you?”
She glanced around the room. “Where am I?”
Beckham’s brows furrowed slightly as he scrutinized her, his gaze piercing as though trying to assess her condition.
Frightened by his look, Waverly feigned panic and stammered, “W-Why are you looking at me like that?”
Beckham quickly withdrew his gaze, his tone indifferent. “It’s nothing. We’re just friends.”
Her last shred of hope crumbled. It felt like her heart had been shattered, leaving a gaping, bloody wound. She felt unbearable pain.
Five years of marriage. She had worked hard to be the woman he wanted—the perfect Mrs. Lynch. And all it amounted to was this?
“Friends?”
Every bit of love she had poured into this relationship was all for nothing.
Just then, the hospital room door opened, and a miniature version of Beckham entered. It was their son, Arthur Lynch.
He didn’t even glance in Waverly’s direction. He walked straight to Beckham instead. Looking up at his father, he said, “Dad, we need to go. Ms. Wells is waiting for us to watch her performance.”
Waverly gripped the bedsheet tightly beneath her hands to keep her emotions in check.
A bitter irony struck her—this was the son she carried for ten months, the child she bore. Yet now, as she lay injured and frail, he wouldn’t even glance her way.
Indeed, like father, like son. Arthur’s whole world revolved around Sarah Wells, just like Beckham’s.
People always said that boys struggled to empathize with their mothers. Now, Waverly understood that all too well.
Beckham treated her with indifference, and Arthur followed suit. At home, he wouldn’t so much as smile at her. In public, he even avoided acknowledging her.
In Arthur’s eyes, she was nothing but a woman who spent her days doting on her husband and child—an embarrassment.
Waverly sneered inwardly. She felt that they were truly cut from the same cloth. If that’s how it was going to be, she was done.
Five years of love and dedication? She would let it all go for nothing.
When Waverly was discharged from the hospital, Beckham’s assistant handled all the arrangements.
Still playing the part of someone with amnesia, Waverly looked at the assistant and asked directly, “Who are you?”
Jenna Jones hesitated momentarily before answering, “I’m Mr. Lynch’s assistant. I’m here to take you home.”
Waverly blinked innocently. “Mr. Lynch? Who’s that?”
Jenna fell silent for a moment, then replied, “The man in the hospital room earlier. He’s your husband.”
