“You don’t have to come. All I need is a few more days and I’ll be there.” My voice was low as I cut off the person on the phone.

By the time William returned, I was just ending the call.

He paused in the doorway, eyes narrowing slightly. I must’ve looked different… lighter somehow. There was a faint smile on my lips, one he hadn’t seen in months.

But instead of asking, he simply glanced at his watch. He had just spoken to Grace, promising he’d be home in time for her private prenatal massage.

So, he said nothing.

He assumed the call had been from my cousin—the only person from my old life I still had. He never once suspected I’d built something else in the silence he left behind.

Without meeting my eyes, he collected a file from the chair beside me. “There’s a board meeting I need to prep for. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

I nodded, even though we both knew it was a lie.

Tomorrow never came.

Instead, the only updates I received were indirect. Mutual acquaintances sent videos, photos and even headlines.

William and Grace , arriving hand-in-hand at art galas. Her laughing in his arms, him standing behind her protectively, showing her off like the ultimate prize.

On the day I was discharged from the hospital, I sat alone on the edge of my bed, watching the clock. No car came. No message. Not even a reminder to pick up my things.

I checked social media out of reflex and there it was—his latest post.

Nine images. All golden sunlight and perfect romance.

William and Grace, standing barefoot in a wheat field, her in a flowy white dress, his hands cradling her stomach. In one shot, he kissed her temple. In another, he knelt before her like she was some god.

My fingers hovered over the comment section. I typed without pausing.

[Wishing you both happiness. Hope the baby looks like her mother— sweet and innocent.]

I hit post and set the phone down.

Ten minutes later, it rang. William. I let it buzz until it stopped.

Thirty minutes after that, I signed my own discharge papers and walked out without a word.

As I passed the OB-GYN wing, I heard a familiar laugh.

There they were. William, seated beside Grace, his arm slung across the back of her chair. Her hand rested gently on her stomach as the nurse smiled at them from behind the desk.

“I swear, Mrs. Goldberg, your husband is a dream,” the nurse gushed. “He even asks for a heating pad so the gel won’t be cold during the ultrasound. So thoughtful.”

The women waiting nearby glanced over with admiration, envy in their eyes.

My hand drifted unconsciously to my own stomach.

There had been life there once. A heartbeat. A chance.

I remembered the hospital lights. The cold. The blood. There was so much blood.

I remembered dialing William through blurry vision, needing only to hear his voice. But Grace had been the one to pick up instead.

She had answered from the shower, grinning, with my husband all smiles behind her.

“Mrs. Goldberg,” she’d said sweetly. “I was feeling a little too hot, so William’s just helping me cool off.

I hadn’t said a word. I hung up.

Moments later, William had called back, voice sharp, holding a teary-eyed Grace in his arms like she was the one who had been wounded.

“You’re unbelievable,” he spat. “Always creating drama. Always wanting attention.” Then quieter, crueler: “You couldn’t even hold on to your child. Do you really think you deserve anything?”

And finally, words that burned like acid: “Honestly, I wish you had died instead. It would’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble.”

Now, standing there in that hallway, I turned to leave.

But William spotted me first.

“Why are you just standing there like a stray?” he snapped.

Startled, I stepped back. “I didn’t know you were here. I—I wasn’t following you.”

“Stop babbling.”

His tone cut deeper than I expected.

From beside him, Grace stood with a syrupy smile. “Mrs. Goldberg,” she said, placing a hand over her bump. “I’ve been meaning to thank you again—for the stem cells. My baby’s doing so much better now.”

She looked up at William. “Shouldn’t we offer to drop her off? She must be tired from walking around alone.”

William glanced at me, then back at her. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

The ride back was stiff and silent. As I shifted in my seat, something brushed my hand near the console. I reached down and pulled it free.

It was a deep red colored bra. Scented with a heavy floral perfume.

I didn’t say a word.

But Grace gasped dramatically.

“Oh! That must’ve been from the other night. William, you always forget to clean up after we’re done.”

William laughed lowly as Grace playfully smacked him. He murmured a soft apology, taking all the blame, brushing it off like some harmless misunderstanding. But as he held her, his eyes flicked toward me, scanning my face for a reaction.

He was met with nonchalance. I didn’t show any sign of jealousy, not even a frown. The same tight, uncomfortable feeling he’d felt at the hospital came back. A weight pressing down on his chest, leaving him restless.

“Nicole,” he said curtly, “you’ve been on your phone the entire time, it’s a bit rude.”

There was a bite in his voice. One he didn’t even bother to hide.

“Chatting with your cousin again?” he added when I didn’t respond. “Or is it someone I don’t know about?”

I had just finalized my one-way ticket and locked my screen.

“Just checking the weather,” I said, my tone steady.

My answer only deepened his scowl. Without warning, he snatched the phone from my hand.

“What’s the password?”

I looked at him, deadpan. “Our wedding anniversary.”

Seven years of marriage. And he didn’t remember our wedding date, even though it had only been a few days ago.

He typed once. Then again. And again. The phone locked after too many failed attempts.

I didn’t say a word. Neither did he.

The rest of the drive was tense and silent.

When we reached the estate, William was all softness again—toward his darling Grace. He helped her out of the car like she was made of glass, murmuring something about her nausea. His hand never left the small of her back.

He ordered the cook to prepare her favorite comfort food. As he passed through the hallway, he saw me walking alone toward the guest room, my suitcase dragging behind me.

He paused. For a moment, something flickered across his face—regret? Guilt? He pushed it down.

“Find out what Nicole wants and make that too,” he said to the cook. “We’ll all eat together tonight.”

Upstairs, I opened the guest room closet and was met with what could only be described as horror.

Every outfit I’d left behind was bathed in red. Someone had poured what looked like blood or red paint all over my clothes.

Thankfully, I had tucked my passport safely in my suitcase earlier.

I let out a slow breath and started putting on my shoes, determined to leave before anyone noticed.

But just as I turned around, Grace appeared in the closet.

She leaned against the large shoe rack. Her eyes roamed over me in disdain.

“Well, look at you,” she sneered. “Still hanging around like a roach that just won’t die.”

She stepped closer, her smile sugar-coated and venomous.

“You know, it’s kind of pathetic. Everyone laughed behind your back when I took your place—your husband, your house, your status. And here you are, crawling back in like a beggar.”

Then, tilting her head mockingly, she added, “Didn’t your mother die last month?”

The mention of her stung like a slap.

Grace clucked her tongue. “Poor thing. Guess she was the last one who actually cared if you lived or died.”

She pulled out her phone and shoved the screen in front of me. “Remember how you begged William to be there with you at her funeral? He was with me, oh the sunset was extra beautiful that day.”

The photo showed them on a dock, backlit by golden light, his lips pressed against her forehead.

That same day, I had sat on the floor of our hallway, crying into a voicemail he never returned.

Something in me snapped.

I slapped the phone from her hand. It hit the floor with a clatter.

She lunged toward me, but I grabbed her wrist and pushed her back. And before I knew it, she was pushing the shoe rack toward me.

I screamed in terror as I hit the floor with the shoe rack pressing me down.

Somewhere in the chaos, I heard shouting.

“Nicole!”

William’s voice, followed by the hurried footsteps of the servants.

Grace immediately laid on the floor and started moaning in pain as she heard his voice. She was such a snake.

“William… help me…”

He didn’t hesitate. He cast me a single glance as I laid there with the weight of the shoe rack over me, and then swept her into his arms and turned away.

He didn’t look back. He didn’t even know if I was still alive.

___

When Grace finally fell asleep an hour later, he searched the entire house, but it was way too late.

I had already boarded a flight to London, limping as I made my way onto the plane.

Just before the plane doors closed, my phone buzzed.

A single message from William.

[I don’t have time to play games, Nicole. Come home.]

I turned the screen off.

WILLIAM

The next day, At the hospital

He hated the fact that Grace looked so scared. He had never seen so much fear in her eyes as she asked if their baby was okay.

“Yes,” he assured her. “The doctor said that the baby wasn’t affected at all by your fall yesterday.”

Her face lit up instantly. “That's good. I was just so worried because you’ve been awfully quiet. I thought you’d received some bad news.”

He was trying to stay focused, but all he kept seeing were Nicole’s stone cold eyes as she’d stared at him from beneath the rack yesterday.

He opened my inbox again, but she still hadn’t responded to the text he’d sent asking her to meet them at the hospital.

It made him so angry, he wanted to punch something.

How could she overreact like this? Grace was pregnant. Surely, Nicole didn’t expect him to neglect a pregnant woman in that kind of situation.

Worse things than this had happened before, but Nicole always came back whenever he called. She could never stay away from him.

But now, she had completely cut him off. He scoffed in annoyance.

He silently escorted Grace out of the hospital and took her to have lunch, and then when she was safely tucked in bed at home, he made his way to the office.

“Mr Goldberg, Your grandfather is in the country and he has called for an emergency meeting upstairs. It should be starting any second now.” His assistant informed him as soon as he walked in.

Sighing silently, he started walking to the elevators, instructing her as he walked. “Call the florist. I’d like a bouquet of red roses. And call the stylist too, have her prepare a few designer pieces.”

“Of course, Mr Goldberg, I’ll have them sent to your villa immediately.”

“No, send them over to the Carrington house.”

He was sure that Nicole had gone back to her parents home. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go anyway.

___

One week later

She was back. She was finally back!

His lips curled into a smile as he watched the slender silhouette in the dark. She looked so pure and graceful in that nightwear.

“Nicole, I knew you’d come to your senses. But you know what I always say, you don’t have to wait up late for—” his voice trailed off as he realized the woman in the living room wasn’t Nicole after all. It was Grace.

She looked up at him with unshed tears in her eyes. “William, Nicole is gone, remember? She hasn’t come home since she left.”

“She hasn’t responded to any of my messages. Something must be wrong. This is so unlike her.”

Grace sniffled. “Maybe I should leave. It seems like Nicole is what you want anyways.”

“Hey…” he frowned and pulled her into my arms, kissing the top of her head. “This is your home. Don’t ever forget that. No matter what anyone says, this is yours and our baby’s home.”

An hour later, he angrily sent another text message to Nicole.

[ Tomorrow’s the annual company gala. You know that you’re expected to be there. Grandfather expects you too. Be there, and do not cause any trouble and embarrass me.]

He cocked his head back and downed all the whiskey in his glass. Nicole was stressing him out way too much, and she would definitely pay.

___

The next day, he walked into the venue of the party with Grace on his arm. She looked beautiful as ever, and he felt very proud.

Despite all the eyes on them, he held on to her until his grandfather arrived at the party and he had to help him welcome more guests.

“I don’t see Nicole anywhere.” Grandpa Goldberg said before even greeting William.

“She’ll be here. She had a little wardrobe malfunction.” He lied through my teeth. He knew better than to tell his grandfather that he didn’t know where Nicole was. He just wouldn’t have that.

A couple hours passed and there was still no sign of Nicole, he tried to call, but he was only met with the automated voice message telling him that the number was out of bounds.

It took everything in him not to punch the wall. It was time for the presentation— one that he and Nicole both gave every year. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it alone, but everyone would definitely notice her absence now.

As he prepared to go back to the hall, one of the tech guys walked up to him. “Mrs Goldberg has asked that we inform you that she added her contribution to the slides sir. She asked that you go on without her.”

Was she being serious right now?

He tried to call again and again but he only got the same error message. Swearing under his breath, he walked back into the hall and headed for the front of the room where the large projector was set up.

He did the usual thing they always did. Thanked the guests for all their donations and explained what charities their money was going to, showing them slideshow after slideshow.

“And now, I’ll have to apologize on behalf of my wife for her absence, but she also has a few words to say.”

He pressed the remote one more time to show Nicole’s slide, but instead of the quiet claps of appreciation he expected, the entire hall gasped.

He frowned, confused as whispers started flitting around the room and cameras started flashing.

Wondering what was causing such a scene, he looked back at the screen, and what he saw made his blood run cold.