Ninety-nine times, my husband Nathan hadn’t deserved me. Yet I stayed, believing my love could fix him. But the hundredth betrayal broke whatever was left of my devotion. He had let Danica—his drunk secretary and mistress, to drive me home, and that choice led to the crash that killed the four month old baby in my womb.

I thought the nightmare ended with the accident, but the true horror began when I heard their voices through the thin hospital partition.

“I’m so sorry, Nathan.” It was Danica. “I’m so scared. Karylle… she’s going to kill me. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have driven, and listened to her. I thought I would be able to go home safely. I killed your baby.”

“Ssh, stop crying,” Nathan’s voice soothed. He sounded tender. More tender than he had been with me in years. “Of course she won’t kill you. I won’t let that happen. And. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“But the baby…” Danica hiccuped. “Are you mad? I know you wanted an heir. I ruined everything.”

There was a pause. Then, a low, dismissive chuckle that made my blood run cold.

“You silly girl,” Nathan said. “Why would I be mad at you? It was an accident.”

“But… your son…”

“Honestly?” Nathan sighed, the sound of a man relieved of a burden. “It’s not like I wanted the baby. She was the one who kept pushing for it. She was obsessed. I just went along with it because my grandfather has been breathing down my neck for a legitimate heir. I needed the old man off my back.”

The world tilted on its axis. I felt bile rise in my throat. He didn’t want our child? The nursery we painted? The names we picked out? It was all a lie?

“I only want to have a baby with you, Danica,” Nathan whispered, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “You know that.”

“Then divorce her!” Danica cried, her voice rising in desperation. “Why won’t you? Why are we still doing this? Marry me, Nathan. Let’s have our own baby.”

“Baby, we talked about this,” Nathan said, his tone placating. “I can’t just divorce her yet. If I leave her now, especially after she just lost the kid? The press would crucify me. Also, my grandpa. And your brother? He’d kill me if he found out I was sleeping with you while married to her.”

“So we wait?”

“We wait until the inheritance is signed over. Once I have full control, I’ll cut her loose. I promise.”

“Do you love her?” Danica asked. The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“No,” Nathan answered instantly. No hesitation. No remorse. “I only love you.”

Then, the sound of wet, sloppy kissing filled the silence.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t storm in there and tear the IVs from my arm to strangle them. I felt a strange, icy calm settle over me. It was the death of hope. The death of the woman who had forgiven him ninety-nine times.

The Karylle who loved Nathan died in that hospital bed along with her unborn child.

I waited until the sounds of their affection faded, until the door handle turned.

Nathan walked in. He adjusted his expression instantly, shifting from the callous lover I had just heard to the grieving, concerned husband.

“Karylle,” he breathed out, rushing to my side. He reached for my hand, his palms sweating. “Oh, God. You’re awake. I was so worried.”

He squeezed my fingers, his eyes glistening with unshed, fake tears. “I’m so sorry, honey. The doctor… he told me about the baby. I can’t believe he’s gone.”

I looked at him. Really looked at him. For the first time, I didn’t see the man I loved. I saw a monster in a designer suit.

I pulled my hand away as if his skin were acid.

Nathan blinked, hurt flashing across his face. “Karylle? I know you’re in pain, but I’m here. We’ll get through this.”

Then, I saw her. Danica was hovering in the doorway, clutching her arm in a cast, looking small and fragile. She was biting her lip, playing the part of the victim perfectly.

“What is she doing here?” I asked. My voice was a shard of glass—sharp and dangerous.

Nathan stiffened. He glanced back at her, then turned to me with a sigh. “She wanted to see you, Karylle. She’s been a wreck since the accident.”

Danica stepped forward, tears already spilling down her cheeks. “Karylle… I… I don’t know what to say. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please, you have to believe me. I just didn’t want you driving because you are my boss—”

She reached out as if to touch the foot of my bed.

“Don’t come near me,” I said, my voice low.

“Karylle, please,” Danica sobbed, her shoulders shaking. “I’m hurting too. I feel so guilty.”

“You should,” I spat. “You were drunk. You insisted on driving. You killed my son. You should have died instead of him!”

“That’s enough!” Nathan snapped.

The mask slipped. The concerned husband vanished, replaced by the man who always defended her.

“She is trying to apologize, Karylle!” Nathan shouted, his face turning red. “She’s injured too! Look at her arm! Do you think she wanted this to happen? It was an accident. Stop acting like she murdered him in cold blood.”

“She might as well have,” I said, staring him dead in the eye. “And you put me in that car with her.”

Nathan yelled, throwing his hands up. “God, you are being so unreasonable. You’re hysterical. I get that you’re grieving, but don’t take it out on Danica. She’s family, and who knows there’d be an accident. She’d been driving drunk even before—”

“Family?” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Nathan narrowed his eyes. “You know what? I’m not doing this right now. You’re emotional. You need to rest. We’ll talk when you’re not acting crazy.”

He turned to Danica, his voice softening instantly. “Come on, Danica. Let’s go get some coffee. She just needs to cool down.”

He placed a protective hand on the small of her back. The same hand that used to hold mine.

Something inside me snapped. The last thread of my restraint severed.

“Nathan,” I called out.

He stopped at the door, looking back over his shoulder with an annoyed expression. “What now, Karylle?”

I sat up, ignoring the pain in my abdomen. I looked at him, then at her, and felt absolutely nothing but clarity.

“I want a divorce.”

“I want a divorce.”

He froze. His hand, which had been hovering near Danica’s back, dropped to his side. For a second, the silence was absolute. Even Danica stopped her performative sobbing, her eyes widening as she looked between us.

“You’re… you’re kidding me, right?” Nathan stammered, a nervous laugh bubbling up from his throat. “Karylle, stop it. That’s not funny.”

“Does it look like I’m laughing?” I asked.

Fear flickered in his gaze. It wasn’t the fear of losing me—I knew that now. It was the fear of the scandal. The fear of the prenup. The fear of his grandfather.

“You can’t just divorce me,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. He took a step toward the bed, looming over me. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? We’re the golden couple. The merger depends on us. My grandfather…” He raked a hand through his hair. “Grandpa would have a stroke. He wouldn’t accept it.”

“I don’t care about your grandfather,” I said, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands. “And I don’t care about the merger. I care that my son is dead, and it was all because of you!”

He took a deep breath, visibly composing himself. He smoothed his tie, adjusted his cuffs, and put the mask back on. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch, once the only thing that could ground me, now made my skin crawl.

“Baby, look at me,” he cooed. “You’re just emotional. It’s the hormones. The grief. You’re not thinking clearly. You don’t want a divorce. Think about us. Think about everything we’ve built.”

“What have we built, Nathan?” I asked softly. “A cemetery?”

He winced. “I know I haven’t been perfect. I’ve been busy. Stressed. But I can change. We can go on a date? Just the two of us. Once you’re out of here, I’ll take you to that Italian place you like. We can start over. We can try for another baby.”

The audacity of it stole the air from my lungs. As if my son was a broken vase he could just replace at the store.

“You love me, Karylle,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’ve always loved me. You wouldn’t throw that away over a misunderstanding.”

“What about me?” I whispered. “Do you love me, Nathan?”

“Of course I do,” he said.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

It was a soft kiss. Gentle. The kind of kiss that used to make my toes curl and my heart race. But now? It tasted like ashes. It tasted like Danica’s cheap perfume. It tasted like a lie.

He pulled back, smiling that charming, boyish smile that had fooled everyone.

“See?” he said. “We’re fine.”

I felt a bubble of laughter rise in my chest. It wasn’t happy laughter. It was dark, jagged, and bordering on hysterical.

Of course I do.

The lie was so smooth, polished by years of practice.

My mind drifted back, pulled by the undertow of memory to where this all began.

Our marriage hadn’t started with love. It started with a contract. A handshake between two old men in a cigar-filled study. My grandfather and his grandfather, merging empires through blood. I was twenty. He was twenty-two.

I had been terrified. But I had also been secretly thrilled. I had watched Nathan from afar for years at society galas. He was the prince of our social circle—handsome, charismatic, untouchable.

But there was always Danica.

She wasn’t just his secretary then. When her father died, leaving nothing but debt, Nathan’s family took her in while her brother Martin, who is Nathan’s best friend, tried to build their company again. She lived in the guest house. She was always there.

In the early years of our marriage, Nathan was aloof. He was polite, but cold. He treated me like a roommate he was forced to live with. He spent all his time with Danica and her brother. I was the outsider in my own home.

But then, Danica left. She went to Paris for fashion school. And for two glorious years, she was gone.

That was when the ice melted. Without her constant presence whispering in his ear, Nathan finally looked at me. He saw me. We started talking. We started laughing. He started coming home early.

I remembered the first time he brought me flowers—white lilies. I remembered the trip to the Maldives where we made love under the stars, and he held me afterward, whispering that he was glad he married me.

I thought I had won. I thought patience and love had conquered his heart. I thought we were finally a real marriage.

Then, six months ago, Danica came back.

She returned with a failed degree and a sob story, and Nathan immediately hired her as his executive assistant.

And just like that, the light in our marriage flickered and went out.

The betrayal didn’t happen all at once. It was a slow, agonizing erosion.

Betrayal number one: He forgot my birthday because Danica had a flat tire and needed rescuing.

Betrayal number ten: He missed our anniversary dinner because Danica was "depressed" about her ex and needed a friend.

Betrayal number fifty: I found a receipt for a diamond bracelet in his pocket. I never received it. Two days later, I saw it on Danica’s wrist. She claimed she bought it herself.

Ninety-nine times.

I had swallowed my pride. I had smiled at galas while she clung to his arm. I had cooked dinners that went cold while he was "working late" at the office with her. I had convinced myself that it was just friendship, that I was being paranoid, that he loved me.

But lying here, with the ghost of his lips on mine, the fog cleared.

He never loved me. He loved the convenience of me. He loved the inheritance I secured. He loved that I kept his grandfather happy while he played house with the woman he really wanted.

I looked past Nathan’s shoulder. Danica was watching us. Her eyes were narrowed, calculating. She wasn’t looking at Nathan; she was looking at me, trying to gauge if I was still a threat.

If I pushed for a divorce now, while I was bedridden and weak, they would destroy me. Nathan would manipulate the narrative. He would paint me as the unstable, grieving wife. He would use his grandfather’s influence to block me.

I needed to be smart. I needed to be like the old Karylle—pliable, sweet, and stupid.

I needed to make them think they had won, so they wouldn’t see the knife coming until I buried it in their backs.

I let out a long, shaky breath and lowered my eyes.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s just the grief talking.”

I felt Nathan’s body sag with relief. The tension evaporated from the room.

“I knew it,” he exhaled, patting my hand. “I knew you didn’t mean it.”

“I’m just… tired, Nathan,” I said, closing my eyes to hide the hatred burning in them. “I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.”

“Of course,” he said, standing up briskly. He was eager to leave. Eager to get away from the depressing hospital room and back to his life. “You rest. I’ll handle the doctors. I’ll handle everything.”

“Okay,” I murmured.

“And Karylle?” he said. “Don’t mention the D-word again. It upsets everyone. We’re going to get through this. Together.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

He nodded, satisfied. He opened the door and ushered Danica out.

I reached under my pillow and pulled out the phone. I dialed a number I hadn’t called in ten years. A number I swore I would never need.

It rang once. Twice.

“Hello?” A sharp, elegant voice answered.

“Mother,” I said. My voice was raspy, broken, but underneath it was steel. “You said…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You said once that if I ever came to my senses, you’d be there. You said you wanted to make up for leaving me and father behind.”

“I did,” my mother said, her voice softening. “I still do. What do you need?”

“Help me,” I whispered. “Process my immigration papers. Get me a visa. Get me a flight. I’m done, Mother. I want to leave. And I want to disappear.”

“It is a tragedy,” Arthur said, his voice gravelly. He set down his wine glass with a heavy clink. “A damn tragedy. My great-grandson. Gone before he even took a breath.”

He looked at me, his gaze softening. “I am truly sorry, Karylle. I know how much you wanted that child.”

“Thank you, Grandfather,” I said quietly, keeping my eyes on my plate. I pushed a pea around with my fork. I had barely eaten a bite.

Then, Arthur’s gaze snapped to Nathan, and the softness vanished. It was replaced by the cold fury of a titan.

“But what I cannot understand,” Arthur growled, “is how this happened. I was told you were at the company party. I was told there were drivers available. Why in God’s name was your secretary driving my granddaughter-in-law while intoxicated?”

Danica, sitting across from me, shrank into her chair. She was wearing a modest black dress, looking every bit the repentant sinner. She had been invited because she was "family," a decision that made my stomach churn.

“It was a mistake, sir,” Danica whispered, her voice trembling. “I… I thought I was fine to drive. I just wanted to help Karylle get home.”

“Help her?” Arthur slammed his hand on the table, making the silverware jump. “You put her in the hospital! You killed my heir! You call that help?”

“Grandpa, please,” Nathan interjected, leaning forward. His jaw was tight. “Calm down. It’s not doing anyone any good to point fingers. Danica feels terrible. She’s been beating herself up about it for days. It was an accident. The roads were slick.”

“The roads were fine!” Arthur barked. “The driver was the problem. Why didn’t you drive, Nathan? Or hire a car?”

“I had to stay back with the investors,” Nathan said smoothly. “You know how important the merger is. I couldn’t leave.”

“So you sent your pregnant wife home with a drunk girl?” Arthur shook his head in disgust.

“I told her I would drive,” I said.

The table went silent.

I didn’t look up. I kept staring at my plate. “I asked for the keys. I told them I was sober. But Danica insisted. She said no one drives her car but her.”

“Is that true?” Arthur demanded, glaring at Danica.

Danica’s face crumbled. “I… I don’t remember saying that. I was just… I was trying to be nice! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

She burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. It was a masterful performance.

Nathan immediately reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “See? She’s a mess, Grandpa. Karylle, stop making it worse. She didn’t mean to.”

“She didn’t mean to,” Arthur repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. He looked from Nathan to Danica, his eyes narrowing. “Just make sure this won’t happen again! I only want a grandchild, with Karylle, no one else,” he said as if warning Nathan of things he knew he was doing.

When the meal finally ended, I stood up immediately. I made it to the foyer before I heard footsteps running behind me.

“Karylle! Wait!” It was Danica.

“Karylle, please,” she panted. “You have to forgive me. I can’t stand you hating me. We used to be friends.”

“We were never friends, Danica,” I said coldly. “You were just my husband’s best friend’s sister.”

Her face hardened for a split second, the mask slipping, before she resumed her pleading look. She reached out to grab my arm.

“Don’t touch me,” I said, pulling away.

I turned to leave, but Danica suddenly stumbled back. She let out a sharp cry and fell to the floor, landing on her hip with a dramatic thud.

“Ouch!” she cried out.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Nathan appeared from the dining room, rushing over. He saw Danica on the floor and me standing over her.

“She pushed me!” Danica sobbed, clutching her ankle. “I just tried to apologize, and she shoved me!”

I stared at her in disbelief. It was so childish. So petty. And yet, so effective.

Nathan glared at me, his eyes blazing. “Are you serious, Karylle? You’re physically attacking her now? In my grandfather’s house?”

“I didn’t touch her,” I said calmly. “She threw herself on the floor.”

“Oh, come on!” Nathan scoffed. “Why would she do that? Look at her! She’s hurt!” He knelt down and helped Danica up, his arm lingering around her waist a little too long. “You’re out of control. You’re letting your grief turn you into a bitter, vindictive woman.”

“You know what?” I said, my voice quiet. “I’m tired of this game, Nathan.” I took a step closer to him. “Just choose, Nathan. Right now. Choose me or her.”

Nathan froze. He looked at me, then down at Danica, who was clinging to his arm like a limpet. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked trapped.

“I… Karylle, that’s ridiculous,” he stammered. “I can’t choose between my wife and my best friend’s sister. You’re both important to me.”

“That’s an answer,” I said.

I turned and walked out the front door into the cool night air.

I stood on the porch, taking deep gulps of oxygen, trying to stop the tears from falling. I wouldn’t cry for him. Not anymore.

“Karylle?”

A deep, familiar voice came from the shadows near the driveway.

I looked up. Leaning against a sleek black sedan was Martin—Danica’s older brother and Nathan’s best friend.

He looked different than I remembered. He had been away in London for the last year managing the overseas branch. He looked tired, his tie loosened, a cigarette in his hand.

“Martin,” I breathed.

He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his heel. He walked over to me, his expression full of concern.

“I heard about the baby,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I… I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry, Karylle.”

Seeing him—someone who actually knew me, someone who had been kind to me in the early days before Danica poisoned everything—broke my composure. A single tear escaped.

“It’s… it’s been hard,” I whispered.

Martin didn’t hesitate. He pulled me into a hug.

It wasn’t like Nathan’s hugs. It was solid. Safe. He smelled like tobacco and expensive cologne. I buried my face in his shoulder for a moment, allowing myself to be weak.

“I’m sorry about Danica,” he murmured into my hair. “I heard she was driving. I swear to God, Karylle, if I had been here, I never would have let her behind the wheel. She’s… she’s a mess sometimes.”

We stood there for a moment, two people grieving in different ways.

Later that night, back at our house, I was sitting at my vanity, taking off my earrings. The reflection in the mirror showed a woman who looked ten years older than she was.

The door banged open.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded, slamming the door behind him. “...outside my grandfather’s house! With Martin!”

I frowned, turning to face him. “We were talking. He was offering his condolences. Unlike you, he actually seemed to care for our baby.”

“Condolences?” Nathan let out a harsh laugh. “Is that what you call it? You were practically climbing him! I saw you hugging him. I saw how you looked at him.”

He marched over to me, gripping the back of my chair. “Are you flirting with Martin? Is that it? You’re trying to get back at me by throwing yourself at my best friend?”

“Flirting?” I stood up, pushing his hand away. “He hugged me because I was crying, Nathan! Because my husband was too busy coddling the woman who killed our child to comfort me!”

“Don’t turn this around!” Nathan yelled. “I saw you! You’ve always had a soft spot for him, haven’t you? Is that why you’re so eager for a divorce? So you can run to him?”

The hypocrisy was suffocating. It was so thick I could taste it.

I looked at him, my eyes narrowing into slits.

“You’re asking me if I’m flirting with Martin?” I asked, my voice deadly calm. “Just because I hugged him? I was being comforted by him?”

I took a step forward, invading his space.

“Well, with what you’re saying… are you admitting that you’re also flirting with Danica?”