Chapter 5

The sterile white of the hospital ceiling swam above me. The doctor' s voice was a distant hum, confirming what I already knew. "The baby is gone, Alexis. We did everything we could, but the trauma was too severe. And the tumor... it' s reacting badly to the stress. We need to schedule surgery soon, or the prognosis will worsen."

A nurse, her face etched with pity, patted my arm. "You need to rest, dear. Avoid any more emotional distress." Emotional distress. The words were a cruel joke. My husband hadn't even shown up. No call, no text. Nothing.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. A social media notification. Carmen Hodges. A photo of her, looking delicate and tearful, nestled in Carlton's arms on a sun-drenched beach. His arm was wrapped protectively around her, his face a mask of tender concern. The caption: "Healing with my hero. He's always there for me, even through the darkest times. Our little angel will be watching over us."

My stomach lurched. The physical pain was nothing compared to the fresh wave of nausea, the burning bile in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears finally streaming down my temples, wetting my hair. My baby. My precious, miracle baby. I had lost it. And no one was here to mourn with me. No one was here to even acknowledge its existence.

Days later, a ghost of myself, I discharged myself from the hospital. The house felt alien. As I stepped through the front door, the familiar, comforting scent of my home had been replaced by a cloying, sweet floral perfume. My eyes landed on the shoe rack. My favorite silk slippers, the ones Carlton had bought me in Paris, were gone.

Carlton stood in the living room, his face taut, a faint frown on his lips. His eyes fell on my blood-stained skirt, and a flicker of disgust crossed his face. "Alexis, you're bleeding all over the carpet. Go clean yourself up."

My heart felt nothing. No anger, no pain. Just a hollow ache. He thought it was just "blood." He had no idea what that blood represented. He wouldn't care anyway. I reminded myself to stay calm, to not let the anger surge. The tumor. My precarious health.

Then, she appeared. From the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune. Carmen. Wearing my silk slippers. She walked towards us, a soft, domestic smile on her face. "Oh, Alexis, you're home. Carlton made your favorite tea." She gestured towards the teapot. Mine. The one I had brought to him on our anniversary morning.

"Carmen is moving in, Alexis," Carlton announced, his voice devoid of emotion, as if stating a weather forecast. "She needs a safe place to recover. And after everything, I feel responsible."

Carmen nodded demurely. "I told Carlton I could work for free, as a housekeeper. Just until I get back on my feet. I don't want to be a burden."

They stood there, a united front, waiting for my reaction. My blood ran cold, then boiled. But I couldn't scream. I couldn't rage. My head throbbed. I simply turned, walked to our bedroom, and began methodically packing a suitcase.

Carlton followed me, his voice low and chastising. "Alexis, don't make a scene. Carmen has been through enough. You need to be understanding."

"Understanding?" I turned, my voice trembling with suppressed fury. "Understanding of the woman who killed my child? The woman you chose over me, over our baby?"

His brow furrowed. He glanced at my skirt again, a look of vague discomfort on his face. "Alexis, you're not making sense. You need rest. You're unwell."

Before I could retort, a theatrical shriek erupted from the bathroom. "Oh! My hand! I cut myself!" Carmen.

Carlton sprinted out of the room, leaving me alone with my packed suitcase. I heard his frantic murmurs, Carmen's delicate whimper. He came back, carrying a small basin of water and a first-aid kit.

Carmen, trailing behind him, her face tear-streaked, clutched her bandaged finger. "Oh, Carlton, I'm so clumsy. I was just trying to help, to do the laundry. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Carmen," Carlton said, his voice soft, gentle. "You rest. I'll take care of it." He knelt down, then, to my horror, picked up a lacy, delicate item from the laundry basket-Carmen's underwear-and began to gently handwash it in the basin.

My eyes widened. Carlton, with his impeccable hygiene, his obsessive cleanliness, who once recoiled from a drop of my own blood, was now tenderly washing another woman's intimate apparel. He used to make me feel disgusting for existing, for being human, for having a body that sometimes bled or sweated. He had made me feel like an inconvenience. For Carmen, he broke every single one of his rules.

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. He truly loved her. This was not just lust. This was a profound connection, built on her manufactured vulnerability and his savior complex. He had finally found someone who made him feel like a hero, someone who wasn't strong or independent like me, someone he could "save."

I slammed my suitcase shut. This was it. No more.

I walked back into the living room, a strange sense of calm settling over me. I pulled out the divorce papers, already signed and notarized, and placed them on the coffee table. "Sign them, Carlton. It's over."

His face, usually so composed, contorted into a mask of rage. With a violent sweep of his arm, he sent a teacup flying, shattering it against the wall. "No! I won't! You're being dramatic, Alexis! This is a phase!" Carmen, startled, gasped and rushed to him, trying to gently restrain him. "Carlton, darling, calm down!"

"Don't you dare touch him, Carmen!" I snapped, my voice finally cracking. "You manipulative leech! You repaid my kindness by destroying my life!"

Carmen's face went pale. She stumbled back, trying to stammer a denial. But I didn't wait. I turned, grabbed my suitcase, and walked towards the door.

"Alexis! If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back!" Carlton roared, his voice thick with fury. "You'll regret this! You'll regret everything!"

I paused at the threshold, then, for the first time in what felt like forever, I genuinely smiled. A slow, chilling smile of absolute freedom. "I doubt it," I said, my voice clear and strong.

Then I walked out, leaving the chaos, the betrayal, the empty promises behind me.