Chapter 2

The next morning, I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My face was pale, and there were dark circles under my eyes from a sleepless night. Liam hadn't come home. He' d sent a single, sterile text at 3 a.m.: "Something came up. Will be back tomorrow."

Something came up. Her name was Chloe.

My hand went to my stomach. For two weeks, I had been holding a secret, a tiny piece of hope that I thought would finally make our marriage real. I was pregnant. I had planned to tell him on our anniversary, to show him the positive test and watch his face light up. I imagined it would be the final brick solidifying our future, cementing me as his wife in a way no business contract ever could.

Now, that hope felt like a stone in my gut. What would he do if he knew? Would he see it as a blessing, or as a complication? A trap?

The thought of bringing a child into this web of lies was suffocating. I picked up my phone and found the number for a clinic, my finger hovering over the call button. The choice was agonizing. This child was a part of me, a part of the love I felt for him, but it was also conceived from a lie.

I couldn't bring myself to press the button. Not yet. I needed to see him, to understand what was happening.

I decided to go to his office. Maybe seeing him in his element, surrounded by the empire we had built together, would bring back the man I thought I knew.

As my car pulled up to the Hayes Corporation tower, I saw a small commotion near the entrance of a popular café across the street. People were gathering, phones held up to record. My driver slowed down, and my eyes were drawn to the center of the crowd.

It was Chloe.

She looked frantic, her hair a mess, her clothes slightly disheveled. A man I didn't recognize had her cornered against the wall. He was big, with an angry, red face, and he was yelling at her, his finger jabbing towards her face.

"You think you can just come back and everything will be fine?" the man roared. "You and that bastard Liam Hayes! He ruined me!"

Chloe was crying, pleading with him. "Mark, please, just leave me alone. It has nothing to do with you anymore."

"It has everything to do with me!" he shouted back, grabbing her arm. "He took everything from me because of you!"

A part of me, the cold, hurt part, wanted my driver to just keep going. This was her drama, not mine. She had brought this storm back into our lives.

But then I saw Liam.

He was standing on the edge of the crowd, half-hidden by a large planter. He wasn't moving. He was just watching, his face a cold, unreadable mask. He saw Chloe being manhandled, heard her cries for help, and he did nothing.

For a wild, hopeful second, I thought, He really is done with her. He doesn't care. It was a cruel thought, but my heart clung to it.

Then Chloe saw him. Her tear-filled eyes locked onto his, and her expression changed from fear to a desperate, heartbreaking plea.

"Liam!" she cried out, her voice cracking. "Please... help me. I was wrong to leave. I was a fool. I've thought about you every single day for three years. I still love you, Liam. I never stopped."

Her words hung in the air, a public declaration of war against my marriage. The crowd murmured, their phones still recording every second of the soap opera unfolding before them.

Mark, the angry man, laughed humorlessly. "Oh, he's here? Perfect. Let him watch." He tightened his grip on Chloe's arm, and she winced in pain.

I watched Liam's face. The cold mask was still there, his jaw clenched. He didn't move. He just stood there, a spectator to her pain. My hope surged again. He was going to let this play out. He was choosing to stay out of it. He was choosing me.

And then, in an instant, everything changed.

It was as if a switch had been flipped inside him. The cold detachment in his eyes vanished, replaced by a flash of pure, protective fury. He pushed through the crowd with a force that sent people stumbling backward.

"Get your hands off her," Liam snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

Mark turned, surprised. "Hayes. So you do care."

Liam didn't answer with words. He grabbed Mark's wrist and twisted it with brutal efficiency. The man cried out in pain and released Chloe. Without a moment's hesitation, Liam shoved him backward. Mark stumbled and fell hard onto the pavement.

The crowd gasped. Liam ignored them. He ignored Mark scrambling on the ground. He ignored me, sitting in the car just a few feet away, my world collapsing.

He turned to Chloe, his entire focus consumed by her. The fury on his face melted away, replaced by a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. He gently took her by the shoulders, his eyes scanning her for any injuries.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with a raw concern that he had never, not once, shown me.

Chloe threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his chest. "I was so scared," she whispered.

Liam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him in a protective embrace. He held her as if she were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her head.

I sat there, frozen in the car, watching the man I married choose another woman over me in the most public, brutal way possible. The last shred of my hope died. The illusion was not just cracked; it was utterly obliterated. And all I could feel was the cold, heavy weight of the truth.