Morning came. Alfred still hadn't.

The pain got worse. I finally called an ambulance.

While waiting, I scrolled through social media—and there it was. Vivian's latest post.

A whole sob story about being harassed at a bar and Alfred swooping in just in time. So brave, took a punch for her, she was so touched.

Attached? A picture of her, all teary-eyed, dabbing medicine on Alfred's face.

Caption:

[Love can overcome anything, and love is worth enduring anything.]

The comments? Filled with admiration.

[A man this handsome right in front of you, and you didn't make a move? Are you sure you're into men?]

[Exactly! If he were in front of me, I'd take care of his injuries too—just... in a different way.]

Vivian, smug as ever, replied:

[What's the rush? Sooner or later, he'll be mine.]

Then, someone casually dropped a video.

[Wow, what a coincidence! I saw you two that night!]

I pressed play.

Vivian, crying like some delicate little thing. Alfred, holding her close, shielding her, berating the so-called thugs.

His gaze was soft and tender.

And just like that, half a month ago came rushing back.

Alfred had invited a group to a club for drinks.

I got there early. No one else had arrived. He said he'd be there soon—something urgent at work.

Then George Lively walked in.

Alfred's business partner. Alfred always bragged about how George was some young, genius entrepreneur—secured two rounds of funding, company about to go public.

George's eyes swept over me as he moved closer.

"Hannah, you're beautiful. Even more than Alfred described."

I opened my mouth to speak—he clamped a hand over it.

"Alfred said you've got a great body. And that you're obedient."

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me close. His breath was warm against my ear.

"Tell me, Hannah, just how obedient are you?"

I thrashed, desperate to break free.

Annoyed, he bit down on my neck. Hard.

When I didn't scream, he pressed a freshly lit cigar to my collarbone.

The burn seared through my skin. I shoved him with everything I had and bolted.

Ran straight into Alfred and Vivian in the lobby.

Alfred barely glanced at me. Kept his arm around Vivian and walked right past.

Vivian? She smirked. Gave me a little wave.

A dazzling yellow diamond necklace hung around her neck.

I knew that necklace.

Alfred had won it at a Sotheby's auction. Said it was my Valentine's gift.

Then he changed his mind. Said I was too fat to pull it off.

He didn't come home till midnight, reeking of alcohol.

"Hannah, what's your problem now? You left before anyone even showed up. When did you turn into such a spoiled brat?"

I said nothing. Just tilted my head, showing him the bite mark on my neck, the blistered burn on my collarbone.

His face paled. He rushed over, voice suddenly soft.

"Babe, does it hurt? What happened?"

I told him. Everything.

He scoffed.

"Do you even hear yourself? If you're gonna lie, at least make it believable. Why would George be interested in you? What, did you try to seduce him?"

Then he grabbed my hair and dragged me in front of the mirror.

A mess of a woman stared back. Tear-streaked. Swollen eyes.

"Look at yourself. Who would want you? Look at all that fat on your tummy—disgusting."

Then he walked off to the bedroom.

I stayed in the closet, crying till morning.

The next day, he bought me a diamond necklace. Called it an apology.

I thought I'd buried that night deep.

But then I saw that video in Vivian's comments.

Alfred's eyes.

Not disgust. Not ridicule.

Not like how he looked at me.

No—when he looked at Vivian, his eyes were soft.

The ambulance came, and the paramedics got me on the stretcher.

Lying in the ER with an IV in my arm, I shot a text to Phoebe.

[Phoebe, I'm getting a divorce.]

After they discharged me, I stayed home for a few days, thinking I'd finally get some peace. Then my phone started blowing up.

Drained, I answered. Alfred's voice was ice-cold.

"I'm picking you up for dinner."

Before I could respond, he hung up.

Might as well play nice until the divorce was final. I got dressed and went out.

The second he saw my face, something clicked in his expression.

"I forgot to grab your ointment. The restaurant's near the hospital—I'll take you there first."

"No need. It's been days. I'm fine."

He sighed, almost relieved. "Thought so. It's been seven years. If you're still hurting, it's all in your head."

I let out a dry laugh. "Yeah. Seven years."

Seven years ago, I used everything I had to shove Alfred out of that burning building. A falling beam crushed me under the flames.

Three broken ribs. A fractured tailbone. Even now, the slightest bump sent pain shooting through me.

I never told him. Never wanted him to feel guilty. But the pain wasn't in my head—it was real.

If he had ever truly loved me, if he had ever cared... wouldn't he have noticed?

As Alfred drove, he started his usual excuses. "Vivian was shaken up after I saved her. I stayed a little longer to make sure she was okay. Don't overthink it."

I stared out the window. "I'm not. She's your secretary. Makes sense you'd stick around."

Apparently, my indifference hit a nerve. He suddenly slammed the brakes, and my earphones tumbled under the seat. I bent down to grab them—only to spot a swimsuit stuffed underneath.

A month ago, that would've wrecked me.

Now? I just picked it up and tossed it onto the back seat.

Alfred shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, that? Probably Vivian's. She must've left it after a swim lesson."

I just nodded and kept watching the scenery blur past.

At the restaurant, the couple at the next table kept sneaking glances our way. Eventually, the girl worked up the nerve to approach.

"Aren't you the CEO from Vivian's posts? Wow, you look even better in person!"

Alfred barely looked up. "You need something?"

She grinned, lowering her voice like we were in on some big secret. "So... are you and Vivian dating?"

Alfred glanced at me, still calmly eating, then turned back to her with a smile. "Yeah. Vivian and I are together."

A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen, but I didn't react.

The girl hesitated, frowning. "Then... who is she?"

Without missing a beat, Alfred said, "My maid."

As the girl walked away, she kept glancing back at Alfred, reluctant to leave. "I'll always support you and Vivian! You have to get married!"

Alfred watched them go, then casually dropped a scoop of ice cream onto my plate. "Babe, don't take it to heart. The CEO Falls in Love series on Vivian's socials is blowing up—it's great for the company. You have no idea how happy it makes her. If I shut it down, she'll be upset."

I barely looked at him. "I don't care. You don't need to explain."

Another sharp pain ripped through my stomach. I clutched my abdomen, my face paling.

On the drive home, his phone rang again.

"Mr. Johnston, can you pick me up from the pool? I'm wearing something way too revealing—it's impossible to get a cab. Please, please?"

Vivian's voice was sickly sweet, practically dripping through the speaker.

Alfred chuckled. "Alright, alright, I'm on my way."

After hanging up, he grabbed my hand and kissed it. "Babe, let's go pick up Vivian together. That way, you won't overthink things."

"Alfred, you can't go. My stomach hurts—I need a hospital. Now."

His expression darkened instantly.

"Hannah, can you stop being so dramatic? I wanted to take you with me so you wouldn't make a fuss, and now you're pulling this act?"

"I'm not acting! I need to go to the hospital—I'm serious, it hurts!"

"Oh, come on. At least make it convincing."

Suddenly, I felt a rush of warmth between my legs.

"I'm pregnant," I forced out, my voice shaking. "And I'm in pain. This could be a threatened miscarriage—we have to go to the hospital now."

Alfred didn't believe me. His face twisted in fury.

"Oh, so now you're pregnant? You lie to me about everything—and now you're using this? We've been married for four years. Have we ever used protection? And yet, you never got pregnant—not once! But the moment I go to pick up Vivian, suddenly you're carrying my child?"

His anger boiled over, and he slammed the brakes.

"Get out! Didn't you say you're bleeding? That your stomach hurts? Then go! Stop wasting my time—I need to pick up Vivian."

"Fine. I'll go."

I reached for the door handle, but he yanked me back.

"I've spoiled you too much. You're getting real bold, huh?"

"Let's get a divorce, Alfred."

He froze. "Divorce?"

I nodded. "Phoebe already drafted the papers."

His grip slackened. He just stared.

"Hannah Hill, are you serious? No one's gonna want a pretentious woman like you."

"I've thought it through. Goodbye."

I pulled the door open.

The second he realized I was actually leaving, he floored it.

The world blurred. Then pain—sharp, searing.

Bystanders screamed. Blood pooled beneath me, warm and endless.

Alfred didn't even look back.

The crimson spread, blooming like silent, twisted flowers.