Chapter 4

I laughed, a light, airy sound that didn' t reach my eyes. "Aren't you happy for me?"

"I shouldn't have held on to the past for so long," I continued, playing my part. "It's time I started seeing new people."

"What new people?" Evertt cut in, his voice suddenly sharp, a hint of panic in his tone.

"You don't need to meet anyone," he said, taking a step closer. "I'll take care of you. It's what Evertt would have wanted."

I just looked at him, a cold smile playing on my lips. He wanted to take care of me? The man who let me nearly die of a broken heart? The man who stood by while his new lover had my dog beaten to death?

Suddenly, Kylee cried out from the hallway, clutching her stomach. "Dustin! My stomach hurts!"

Evertt's attention snapped to her instantly. He rushed to her side, his face etched with worry, and scooped her into his arms.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," he said, his voice full of panic. He hurried down the stairs without a backward glance.

The house fell silent again.

I slowly slid to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. The mask I wore crumbled, and silent tears streamed down my face.

After a moment, I wiped them away. I would not cry for him anymore.

I stood up and began to pack the rest of Evertt's things myself. I filled box after box, sealing away every memory, every piece of our life together.

As I worked, I heard the faint, unmistakable sounds of Kylee's fake moans and Evertt's soothing whispers from their room down the hall. They were back already.

I closed my eyes, shutting it all out.

Later that night, the house was thrown into chaos. Lights flashed on, and I heard frantic footsteps.

I opened my door to see Evertt carrying Kylee down the stairs again, his face a mask of terror.

The servants were whispering. "Her spotting is getting worse." "Mr. Martin is so worried." "I heard she might lose the baby."

I closed the door, shutting out the noise and their manufactured drama.

They returned the next day. A celebratory feast was laid out on the dining table to welcome them home. Every dish was one of Kylee' s favorites.

"Thank you, Dustin," she cooed, leaning against him. Then she looked at me with fake sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Dustin was so worried about me, he must have neglected you."

Evertt glanced at me, his apology brief and dismissive. "I'll have them make your favorites next time."

I sat down and picked up my fork, eating silently. The food tasted like ash in my mouth.

Kylee giggled, nestling into Evertt's arms as he peeled a shrimp for her. She deliberately licked the tip of his finger, her eyes daring me to react.

I ignored her, but a tightness gripped my throat, making it hard to breathe.

I forced myself to swallow, then asked the chef, "What kind of oil was used in these dishes?"

My voice was tight with a dawning horror. I spat the food into my napkin.

The chef replied, "It's all made with peanut oil, ma'am. Mr. Martin said it's good for Miss Armstrong and the baby."

My hand clenched the tablecloth.

I'm severely allergic to peanuts.

Evertt knew this. He had known since our first year together when I had a reaction so bad he had rushed me to the emergency room in the middle of the night. He had held my hand the entire time, his face pale with fear.

But he had forgotten. For her, for their baby, he had forgotten the one thing that could kill me.

My vision started to blur. My chest felt tight, and my breath came in short, ragged gasps.

Evertt finally noticed something was wrong. "Helen? What is it?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

I tried to speak, but no sound came out.

His face paled as he stood up, moving as if to come to me.

But then Kylee let out a sharp cry, clutching her stomach again. "Dustin! It hurts!"

Evertt froze.

He looked at me, my face turning blue, then looked at Kylee, her face a mask of pain.

He made his choice.

He pulled his hands back from me.

He turned and lifted Kylee into his arms.

"Hang on, honey, I'm getting you to the hospital," he said, his voice frantic.

He didn't look at me again.

As I lost consciousness, the last thing I saw was his back as he carried her away, leaving me to die.