Chapter 2

Abbey Blake POV:

"Is it yours?" My voice was barely a whisper, but it sliced through the silence of the room. "Is that child, inside her, yours?"

David flinched, a visible tremor running through his body. He took another hesitant step, reaching for my hand. "Abbey, please, let's not make rash decisions. We can talk about this. We can fix this."

I yanked my hand away, a visceral wave of revulsion washing over me. "Fix this?" My voice cracked, tears finally brimming in my eyes. "There's nothing to fix, David. It' s broken. Beyond repair. I want a divorce."

My whole body trembled, a violent shiver that had nothing to do with cold. It was the shock, the betrayal, the sheer magnitude of his deceit. Six years. Six years of my life, my hopes, my dignity, all twisted into a cruel joke. Briana. Of course. It wasn't just some random affair. David and Briana had been a thing in college, a passionate, volatile romance that everyone thought had ended in flames. But fires, I now realized, could reignite.

"You went back to her," I choked out, the words catching in my throat. "You went back to your college sweetheart and made a baby with her while I was pouring my heart and soul into trying to conceive our child. While I was taking those pills, enduring those injections, letting doctors prod and poke me, believing in us."

"No, Abbey, it wasn't like that!" David' s voice was hoarse. He dropped to his knees, a sickening thud against the polished marble floor. His hand flew up, striking his own cheek, a sharp, flat sound. "Please, Abbey, forgive me! It was a mistake! A terrible, unforgivable mistake, I know, but I swear... I love you! You're my wife! That baby... it means nothing! I can make her get rid of it, Abbey, I swear! Just please, don't leave me!" He hit himself again, harder this time, his eyes pleading.

My stomach churned. The sight of him, groveling, self-flagellating, was grotesque. "Get rid of it?" I scoffed, a bitter, hollow sound. "So, you'd sacrifice your own child just to keep up this charade? Just to avoid facing the consequences of your actions?" The irony bit deep. He could so easily discard a life, a life he created, when it became inconvenient. Yet, for six years, he' d watched me suffer, longing for a child he secretly knew he was already creating with someone else.

He looked up at me, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. "It was... it was because you couldn't give me a child, Abbey. My mother, the family... the pressure was immense. I needed an heir. And Briana... she was just there. It was a moment of weakness, I swear."

The bitterness turned to a scorching acid in my throat. He blamed me? My infertility, my struggle, was the justification for his betrayal? The thought that he could use my deepest pain as an excuse for his abhorrent actions was a new, deeper wound. My mind raced back, stitching together moments, realizing the timeline. Briana started as my coach just over three months ago. When did the "moment of weakness" happen? While she was coaching me? While I was vulnerable, hopeful, trusting?

"I can't believe this," I whispered, the words barely audible. "You want an heir, David? Then you have one. With Briana. Consider your wish granted. I'm leaving. You can have your heir, and your 'wellness coach.' I' m out." My voice was flat, hollow, devoid of any feeling but profound weariness.

David's eyes widened again, filled with a fresh wave of terror. "No! Abbey, no, you can't!" He scrambled to his feet, lunging towards a decorative letter opener on his desk. Before I could react, he plunged the sharp, ornate blade into his forearm, drawing a gasp from me as blood immediately bloomed across his crisp white shirt. "Look! Look what you're making me do, Abbey! I can't live without you! I'll die if you leave!"

A shrill scream pierced the air. "David! What are you doing?!"

Briana.

She burst into the room, her face pale, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes, wide with horror, darted from David's bleeding arm to my stunned face. "You! You monster! What did you do to him?!" she shrieked, her voice unexpectedly strong despite her apparent distress.

Before I could even process her words, she was on me. Her hands, surprisingly powerful, shoved me hard in the chest. I stumbled backward, my head hitting the sharp corner of a heavy antique console table. A searing pain exploded behind my eyes, and I felt a warm, sticky liquid trickling down my neck. My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor, dimly aware of the clatter of the letter opener as it fell from David's hand.

My vision blurred, the room spinning. I could hear David's frantic voice, but it wasn't directed at me. "Briana! Are you alright? Are you hurt?" The floor felt cold beneath me, and the world began to fade.