Chapter 3

The threat hung in the air, cold and sharp. He would take my son away from me, even in death.

My body trembled. I felt the fight drain out of me, replaced by a hollow defeat.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words tasting like poison in my mouth. I directed them at the muddy ground, unable to look at Cali's triumphant face.

She sniffed, a delicate, wounded sound. "It's fine. I forgive you." She didn't even look at me.

Kaden shot me one last glare of disgust before turning his full attention back to her, leading her gently back to the car as if she were made of glass.

I was left alone on the muddy path.

A message buzzed on my phone a few minutes later. It was from Kaden.

"Cali's ankle is swelling. Taking her to the doctor. The driver will be back for you in an hour."

I sank to my knees, the tears I had been holding back finally falling, mixing with the rain that had started again. I cried for my lost child, for the love that was now a weapon used against me, for the woman I used to be.

I took out the small orange bottle from my pocket. The pills looked so small, so harmless. I swallowed one dry. It was a promise to myself. A promise of an end.

I gathered the scattered, mud-stained lilies, wiping each petal with the hem of my coat. They were all I had left of this day. They were my love, my sorrow, my apology to the child I couldn't protect.

Kaden didn't come home that night. Or the next.

On the third day, I saw it. A friend had tagged me in a post. It was a live video from a lavish party on a yacht.

Kaden was there, laughing, a glass of champagne in his hand. Cali was beside him, sparkling in a sequined dress. She leaned into the microphone of a giddy social media influencer.

"Kaden, everyone wants to know," the influencer gushed. "When are you going to make an honest woman out of Cali?"

Cali giggled, turning to Kaden with wide, expectant eyes. "Yes, Kaden. When?"

Someone in the crowd yelled, "He's already married!"

Cali pouted, a perfect performance of hurt feelings. "But he doesn't love her," she said, just loud enough for the camera to pick up. "Kaden, you have to choose."

Kaden looked into the camera, his handsome face serious. He didn't hesitate.

"Cali," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "It's always been you."

The crowd erupted in cheers. Cali threw her arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder, but I could see the victorious smirk she flashed at the camera.

It was a performance for my benefit. A public execution of my marriage.

And in that moment, I finally understood. It wasn't about revenge on her family. It wasn't a game. He loved her. All the pain, all the humiliation he put me through... it was real.

I closed the laptop. The room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside. The wind howled, rattling the windows. I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my belly, doubling me over.

It was worse than the usual cramps. It was a ferocious, tearing agony.

I stumbled to the bathroom, a cold dread washing over me. I saw the blood. So much blood.

I woke up on the cold tile floor. The pain was a dull, throbbing echo. I felt... empty. A part of me had been scooped out, leaving a hollow void.

Kaden was there when I opened my eyes again. Not in person, of course. He was kneeling beside my hospital bed, his face a mask of practiced concern.

"The doctor said you lost the baby," he said, his voice soft. "It was... very early. A chemical pregnancy. It happens."

He was dismissing it. Dismissing another life. Another child.

I remembered a time, long ago, when we first started trying. He had been so excited. He would talk for hours about names, about what our child would look like. He would hold me and whisper promises of a future filled with laughter and tiny feet.

That man was gone. The man who sat before me now was a stranger.

A memory surfaced, sharp and cruel. The yacht. His public declaration.

"It's always been you," he had said to her.

The pain in my heart was so immense, it felt like a physical death. I had lost everything. My babies. My husband. Myself.

The tears came then, hot and unstoppable. They were tears of grief, of rage, of a love so completely and utterly destroyed.

Suddenly, the hospital room door burst open.

Cali stood there, her arms crossed, her expression impatient. She was dressed in a pristine white tennis outfit.

"Kaden, are you coming?" Her voice was sharp, annoyed. "You promised you'd play a match with me today."

Kaden immediately dropped my hand. He stood up, his attention shifting entirely to her.

He walked toward her, a playful smile on his face. "Jealous that I'm spending time with my wife?"

Cali scoffed. "As if. You're just wasting time."

"Maybe I like wasting time with her," he teased, deliberately trying to provoke Cali. "Maybe I'll stay here all day."

It was their sick, twisted game, and my hospital bed was their playground. My grief was their entertainment.