"You corroborated her lie."

Arthur stood by the precinct exit, adjusting his cuffs. "I told the officers the truth. You broke in. You were hostile."

"She planted that earring in my bag."

"Elaine doesn't play games like that."

"But I do?" I asked.

"You're acting out of jealousy."

"I'm acting like a wife whose husband is protecting another woman."

"She was terrified, Zoe. You shoved past her."

"I walked past her to get my own company's files!"

"She has a cut on her cheek."

"From the car crash!" I yelled. "The crash where you gave away my blood to save her!"

An officer at the front desk cleared his throat loudly.

Arthur lowered his voice. "Keep it together. I posted your bail. The lawyers will handle the theft charge."

"I didn't steal anything."

"Just go home. I have to get back to the hotel. Elaine is extremely shaken up by your stunt."

"You're leaving with her?"

"She needs me right now."

He walked out, leaving me standing next to a vending machine.

***

The corporate rumors ignited overnight.

I sat at the head of the conference table. My ribs still ached, but I refused to show weakness.

"The press is asking questions about the police visit," David, our marketing director, said. "They want to know why the co-founder's wife was detained."

"No comment," I replied.

"Arthur isn't here to present a united front," David pressed. "He called in a personal day."

"I am here. That is enough."

"The investors are getting nervous. We need Arthur to make a statement."

"Arthur is unavailable," I snapped.

"He's with that art investor, isn't he? Elaine Monroe."

I glared at David. "We focus on the upcoming gala. Nothing else."

"Zoe, you can't sweep an arrest under the rug."

"Watch me."

A sharp, twisting cramp ripped through my lower back.

I gripped the edge of the mahogany table. My knuckles turned white.

"Zoe?" David asked, his tone shifting from accusatory to concerned.

The pain flared again. Hot. Blinding.

Wetness soaked through my skirt.

I looked down. Crimson blood stained the cream leather of my chair.

"Call an ambulance!" someone yelled.

"Don't," I gasped, trying to stand.

My legs gave out.

The boardroom spun. The fluorescent lights blurred into a solid white line.

***

"Mrs. Pierce."

I opened my eyes. The sterile smell of iodine filled my nose.

A doctor stood at the foot of my bed.

"What happened?" I asked. My voice cracked.

"You suffered a severe hemorrhage." He stepped closer. "Did you know you were pregnant?"

The monitor beeped a steady, hollow rhythm.

"Pregnant?" I whispered.

"Six weeks."

My hands drifted to my stomach. It felt completely empty.

"The trauma from the car accident, combined with extreme physical and emotional stress... your body couldn't sustain the pregnancy."

"Are you saying..."

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Pierce. The fetus is gone."

He handed me a single sheet of paper.

"Is there anything else we can do?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"Rest. That is all you can do now."

The doctor left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

I stared at the black ink on the white page.

*Miscarriage.*

My vision blurred. A tear slipped down my cheek, splashing onto the printed words.

I was going to be a mother.

We were going to have a family.

The door swung open.

Arthur walked in. He wore a fresh suit. No tie.

He didn't look at the monitor. He didn't look at the tear-stained paper in my lap.

"Elaine said she didn't mean it, why can't you be more understanding of her?" Arthur said.

My fingers crushed the edges of the medical certificate.

"What did you just say?"

"She feels terrible about the police calling you out like that. She was just scared." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You didn't have to collapse in the middle of a board meeting to make a point."

I threw the crumpled paper at his chest.

It bounced off his lapel and landed on the linoleum.

"Read it."

Arthur frowned. "What is this?"

"Read it, Arthur."

He stooped down and picked up the paper.

His eyes scanned the lines. The color drained from his face.

"Zoe... this..."

"Arthur, I lost our child, and all you care about is her feeling wronged."

"A baby?" His voice shook. "You were pregnant?"

"I was pregnant. And now I'm not."

He stepped toward the bed, reaching out. "Zoe, I didn't know."

"You didn't care to know. You were too busy comforting the woman who framed me."

"I thought you were just stressed. I thought..."

His fingers brushed my wrist.

I shoved his hand away with all my strength. "Don't touch me!"

Arthur stumbled back, his eyes wide.

"We can get through this," he pleaded. "We can try again."

"There is no 'we'."

"Don't say that. We are married."

"Not anymore."

Footsteps sounded in the corridor.

Elaine appeared in the doorway, clutching a massive bouquet of white lilies.

She wore a perfectly pressed designer dress. Not a single bruise visible on her face.

"Arthur?" she murmured, stepping into the room.

She looked at me, then at the paper in Arthur's hand. Her eyes welled with tears instantly.

"Zoe, I'm so sorry," Elaine cried, her voice trembling. "If it weren't for me, your baby wouldn't have..."

She buried her face in Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur wrapped an arm around her waist. He actually held her.

"Shh, El, it's not your fault," Arthur whispered to her.

I watched them. The rage that had been boiling inside me suddenly evaporated.

A cold, absolute clarity took its place.

"From today on, I am stepping out of your world."

Arthur froze. "What?"

"I am done. With this marriage. With you."

"You're grieving," Arthur said. "You don't mean that."

"I have never meant anything more." I pointed toward the door. "Get out."

"Zoe, please," Elaine whimpered. "Don't push him away because of me."

"Get out of my room."

Elaine peeked over Arthur's shoulder. A tiny, triumphant smile flashed across her lips before she hid her face again.

"We'll talk when you're rational," Arthur said.

He guided Elaine out of the room, leaving the white lilies resting on the visitor's chair.

I sat alone in the quiet room. My phone buzzed on the bedside table.

I grabbed it. Another message from an unknown number.

*You made the right choice. But Arthur's shares in the company belong to her now. Check your email.*

I opened my inbox.

A legal transfer document sat at the top of my screen. Arthur had signed away his fifty percent of Pierce Design.

To Elaine Monroe.