Chapter 1

I was three months pregnant, the kind of happy that makes you want to hug strangers.

Mark and I had wanted this baby for so long. Our Charleston life, in the beautiful house my family helped us buy, felt perfect. He was the ambitious tech CEO, I was the supportive wife from a family known for boutique hotels.

College sweethearts, five years married. It was a good story.

Then Mark came home from a "late work meeting."

He handed me a single rose, the kind you grab from a grocery store bucket, already a little sad around the edges.

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"For my beautiful wife," he said.

That's when the words started.

Not words he said, but words hanging in the air above his head, bright and impossible, like captions in a movie only I could see.

`"OMG, he gave the 'side piece' a fresh bouquet but the 'starter wife' gets a pity rose? He's totally catching feelings for the 'main character' now!"`

I blinked, thinking I was tired, the pregnancy playing tricks on my eyes.

Mark was still talking, something about a stressful day.

More words flared.

`"Only 4 more months until the 'first wife' character gets written off. Premature labor, chooses the baby over herself, classic tragic exit. Clears the way for the OTP!"`

My hand went to my stomach.

A cold dread, sharp and sudden, cut through the happiness.

`"Anyone else feel bad for her? The kid she dies for apparently grows up to resent her for not being 'strong enough' and never visits her grave."`

I clutched the wilted rose, its thorns pricking my palm.

This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

`"She's just a plot device, LOL. Her family money is what bankrolled the 'hero's' rise. Textbook."`

My breath caught. My family' s money. My life. A plot device?

I looked at Mark, my husband, the man I loved.

The man these... comments... were painting as a villain in a story where I was the disposable first act.

My heart pounded.

No.

I wouldn't be a tragic first wife. I wouldn't be written off.

This was my life, my baby.

If this was a script, I was going to burn it.