Chapter 2

Alexander' s eyes widened slightly at my abrupt statement, a fleeting shadow of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced by his usual calm. He glanced from me to his phone, then back to me, the message notification still starkly visible. "Talk, darling? About what?" he asked, his voice smooth, too smooth. He picked up his phone, his thumb already hovering over the screen, poised to dismiss the notification. "Right now, I think you just need rest."

But the message wouldn't be dismissed. It was a call. And he answered it. "Yes?" His tone was clipped, professional, a stark contrast to the saccharine endearments he'd lavished on Carson just hours ago. He walked a few steps away, turning his back slightly, as if to shield his words from me. "No, now isn't a good time. I told you, I'm with Haylie... Yes, yes, I know. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just... be patient." He ended the call, his shoulders stiff.

He turned back to me, an apologetic smile plastered on his face. "Duty calls, my love. A crisis at the office. You know how it is." He moved towards the door, already shrugging into his jacket. "You get some rest. I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't worry your pretty head about a thing." He blew me a kiss, a gesture that felt utterly performative, and then he was gone, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him.

Don't worry, I thought, a bitter laugh bubbling in my throat. Don't worry about the woman you just kissed, the supplements you're forcing me to take, or the child you' re actively preventing me from having. The empty words hung in the air, a cruel echo.

Sleep was a distant concept. I lay there, eyes wide open, watching the city lights flicker through the window. Every creak of the old building, every distant siren, seemed to amplify the roar of betrayal in my ears. Hours bled into one another, each minute a slow, agonizing drip of realization.

Just before dawn, a sharp, clattering noise broke the oppressive silence. A woman's scream, followed by a man's booming voice, drifted up from the street below. I pushed myself out of bed, drawn to the window by a morbid curiosity. Across the street, a couple from the building opposite were having a very public argument. She was accusing him of infidelity, her voice raw with pain. He was shouting denials, his face contorted in anger. It was a messy, heartbreaking tableau, a mirror reflecting my own shattered reality.

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I gasped, spinning around. Alexander stood behind me, his face pale, his eyes wide. "Haylie! What are you doing? Get away from the window. Don't look at that filth." He pulled me back, his grip surprisingly strong. He moved to the window, his movements swift and decisive, and drew the heavy velvet curtains, plunging the room into semi-darkness. "Disgusting," he muttered, shaking his head. "People have no respect for privacy."

He turned to me, his expression softening into a mask of concern. "Are you alright, darling? You look shaken. You shouldn't expose yourself to such ugliness." He reached out, his fingers tracing my cheek. "Our home is a sanctuary, remember?"

I recoiled from his touch, a shiver running through me. "Alexander," my voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "What do you truly believe defines loyalty? And love?"

He blinked, caught off guard. "What a strange question, my love. Loyalty is unwavering devotion, of course. And love... love is what we share, Haylie. An unbreakable bond. A promise of forever." He smiled, that charming, practiced smile. "Speaking of forever, I was thinking... it's your birthday today. I want to celebrate properly. Just the two of us. A lavish dinner, perhaps? Whatever your heart desires."

Just then, a soft knock came at the door. Mrs. Jenkins poked her head in. "Mr. Pugh, there's a guest downstairs. A young woman. She says she needs to speak with you urgently."

Alexander's blood drained from his face. "A... guest? Who? I'm not expecting anyone." His voice was tight, a frantic edge to it. "Tell her I'm unavailable. Tell her to come back later."

My heart pounded. Her. It had to be her. "Who is it, Alexander?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. I moved towards the door, my eyes fixed on the hint of red fabric visible through the crack.

He tried to block my way, his hand extending. "No one important, darling. Just a junior associate from the office. A misunderstanding."

But it was too late. She stepped past Mrs. Jenkins, her red dress a fiery streak against the muted elegance of our hallway. Carson Gibson stood there, a triumphant smirk on her face. Her eyes met mine, a cold, calculating gleam in their depths. She gave me a slow, deliberate wink.

My breath caught in my throat. The world tilted. Alexander, standing rooted, his face a mask of horror. Carson, bold and unashamed, right here in my home.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mrs. Pugh," Carson purred, her voice dripping with venomous sweetness. She looked me up and down, a sneer twisting her lips. "Still clinging on, I see."

A wave of icy fury washed over me, a sensation so intense it almost felt like a physical blow. I forced myself to take a deep breath, to steady my trembling hands. "And who might you be?" I asked, my voice calm, almost detached. It was a performance, a desperate attempt to maintain control. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

Alexander, finding his voice, rushed forward. "Carson! What are you doing here? I told you to wait!" He turned to me, a whirlwind of frantic excuses. "Haylie, darling, this is Carson Gibson, a new marketing junior from the firm. She's... she's very ambitious. A little overzealous, perhaps."

Carson laughed, a harsh, grating sound. She smoothed down her dress, revealing a barely concealed hickey on her neck, a fresh, vivid red mark against her pale skin. Her eyes, still locked on mine, dared me to react. "Oh, no need for introductions, Mr. Pugh. I'm sure Mrs. Pugh knows exactly who I am." She ran her tongue over her lips, a provocative gesture aimed directly at me.

My fists clenched. The image of that hickey, the taunting look in her eyes, fueled a cold, burning rage. But I held it in, forcing a polite smile. "Indeed," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Well, Alexander, I'm sure your 'junior associate' has urgent business. Perhaps you should attend to it."

Alexander looked from me to Carson, his face a mixture of relief and fear. "Yes, yes, of course. Come, Carson. We'll speak in my study." He practically shoved her towards his office, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at me. "I won't be long, Haylie. Don't worry."

Don't worry. The words again. As he disappeared with Carson into his study, I heard her voice, low and seductive, followed by his hurried whispers. My mind raced. This wasn't some casual fling. This was a brazen display, a claim staked right in my living room.

Alexander, who had once pursued me with such passion, who had promised me the world, had changed. The man who had showered me with attention, who had memorized my favorite flowers and coffee order, was now a stranger. He had wooed me tirelessly, a whirlwind courtship that swept me off my feet. He was everything I had ever dreamed of, erasing the bitter taste of my parents' broken marriage. He was my secure future, my steadfast love. Or so I believed.

Now, that illusion lay shattered on the floor, scattered like broken glass. I had to know more. I had to see the full extent of this betrayal. I would follow him.

I waited until the house was quiet, until Alexander' s car pulled out of the driveway again, Carson, no doubt, tucked away in the passenger seat. I slipped into my own car, my movements precise, mechanical. The same road, the same destination. My heart was a drum in my chest, beating a frantic rhythm of dread and determination.

This time, Alexander pulled into a secluded parking lot behind a small, unassuming clinic. He helped Carson out of the car. She clutched her stomach, a wince of pain crossing her face. She looked unwell, her complexion pale, a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Alexander' s arm went around her instantly, his face a mask of concern. "Are you alright, darling? Is it the baby?"

The baby. The word hit me with the force of a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. I gripped the steering wheel, my mind struggling to process what I had just heard. The baby.

Carson leaned into him, her voice weak but still edged with a strange triumph. "Just a little Braxton Hicks, I think. Nothing to worry about. But you know, morning sickness has been dreadful." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Alexander? It's our little secret, isn't it? Our precious surprise."

Alexander' s fingers stroked her hair, his expression tender, almost reverent. "Of course, it's our secret, Carson. Our precious boy. Nothing will stand in the way of our family." He looked down at her swollen belly, a possessive hand resting there. "You know how important this is to me. To my family. A son."

A son. A legacy. My mind reeled. All those years, all those "fertility tonics," all those empty hopes. While I was swallowing contraception, he was creating a family with someone else. A son. The unspoken expectation from his parents, the one he had so carefully shielded me from, was now being fulfilled by this woman.

My world collapsed. The ground beneath me gave way. I felt a cold, empty chasm open up inside my chest. The pain was so profound, so absolute, it brought me to my knees.