His face went dark in an instant, terrible to look at.

"Alma, are you out of your mind?!"

I raised my brows and looked at him, all blank and puzzled.

"Isn't this what you wanted? I'm giving it to you. So why are you angry?"

Jude looked like the sight of me made him sick. He glared at me for a few seconds, then grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

The moment it slammed shut, the whole apartment shuddered.

The smile dropped off my face at once. I loosened the hand I'd dug into hard enough to leave a bloody welt,

fished out my phone, and messaged the future me.

【Jude has an illegitimate kid out there too. How did you handle it back then?!】

The reply came almost the second I sent it.

【What are you panicking for.】

【As long as nobody runs a paternity test, who's to say whose kid it is?】

【The second that deadbeat husband stops breathing, cremate him right away. Pick the cheapest urn there is, and spend what you save on a bag for yourself.】

I stared at the screen for a few seconds, and the ache that had been swelling in my chest suddenly eased.

Good mood, and my nerve grew right along with it.

【Future me, while you're at it, can you give me a few lottery numbers, or some stock tickers or something?】

【I want to buy a few now.】

A string of exasperated emojis came through, and then a few cryptic codes.

【Don't buy now. Keep the little you've got for insurance and keeping the baby.】

【Once the deadbeat kicks the bucket and the insurance payout and the inheritance land, ease your way in.】

The moment I saw the word "insurance," I bolted upright.

I'd almost forgotten the most important thing.

I pulled up my contacts right away and called my best friend, the one in insurance.

"Sweetie, your next ten years of sales? I'm covering all of it."

She went silent for two seconds, spooked.

"Alma, what set you off?"

I rested a hand on my belly, my tone more generous than it had ever been.

"I want to buy accident insurance for Jude. The highest coverage available, set me up with all of it."

"As long as it's legal and by the book, as long as it pays out, buy as much as you can."

I couldn't wait for Delia Carter to come over, so I had her email me all the contracts to print and sign first.

By the time Delia got there, I'd just signed the last one.

She looked at the thick stack of insurance documents in front of me, then at my face, far too calm, and her eyes went red on the spot.

"Alma, did Jude bully you until you lost your mind?"

She grabbed me and held on, crying harder than me, the one it was actually happening to.

"Jude, that bastard. He swore up and down back then that he'd send her away for good. And now the scum's keeping her stashed away somewhere!"

"Both times he pulled this while you were pregnant! Nobody treats an enemy this cruelly!"

"After everything he's done to you, you're actually buying him insurance, worried something might happen to him?!"

I patted her back gently, my voice so gentle it made even me feel like the perfect wife.

"I've made my peace with it."

"Think of the policy as leaving something behind for my child."

Seeing me like that, Delia flat-out refused to leave me home alone. She insisted on dragging me to a bar to take my mind off things.

But we hadn't been in the booth long when a familiar name drifted over from next door.

"Alma really didn't make a scene this time?"

My hand went still around my glass of juice.

Delia clammed up too and glanced warily toward the wall.

The next booth's door wasn't shut all the way. Through the gap I could see Jude on the couch with his arm around Bridget.

His face was grim, and a few emptied glasses already sat by his hand.

Bridget tugged at him again and again, but couldn't stop him from drinking.

His friends crowded around the two of them, egging them on.

"Nobody does it like you, Jude. Three years ago, when Alma found out you'd cheated, she pulled the whole act—slit her wrists, wanted a divorce so bad she'd rather die."

"You really toughed it out, man. Not only did you get Bridget to have the abortion, you stashed her out in some little town for three whole years. Had to sneak your monthly taste of her every time you went back to visit your folks."

"And to keep Alma sweet, you tattooed her name on your stomach, strapped on an electronic tracker wired straight to her phone so she could check your location anytime she wanted."

"And you still went and broke that stubborn streak of hers, didn't you?"

The group burst out laughing, still heaping praise on Bridget and Jude.

"Our Jude's the richest man in Harbor City now. If I were her, forget just having a man with someone on the side—even if he came home a new groom every single night, I'd be the one showing up at his door with a fertility kit."

"She's got some nerve making a scene. Should've kicked her out with nothing and let her clear off, made room for our Bridget already!"

"Don't talk like that... I don't care about titles anyway."

That was what Bridget said, and yet the smile on her face was pure smugness.

Beside me, my best friend had gone white with fury, her fingers clamped around her glass, shaking with the force of it.

Something in my chest sat somewhere between relief and a dull ache.

So that was it. For three years he'd made the long trip home every single month.

I'd taken it for devotion. Turned out it was all for Bridget.

And the joke of it was, his own parents had gone right along with him, keeping it from me too.

Jude wasn't laughing. His face was dark,

throwing back one glass after another, some restless thing he couldn't name pressed down behind his eyes.

Finally someone caught on that something was off.

"How come you're still not happy? Alma's stopped making trouble, Bridget's pregnant—doesn't this mean you finally get to run both households out in the open?"

"Home fire still burning, banners flying outside too. There's men who'd kill for that and never get it."

Jude set his glass down hard on the table, his voice cold.

"Something's wrong."

The booth went quiet for a beat.

Jude let out a bitter laugh.

"You know what Alma said to me?"

"She said she'd be happy to wait on Bridget through her confinement!"

"I pushed her on it, said if she's so big-hearted, why not just move Bridget into the house to have the baby—and she agreed to that too!"

By the time he said it, his chest was heaving.

"She's out of her mind! Why isn't she angry?"

His friends traded glances, clearly not expecting him to blow up like this over the fact that I'd backed down.

Bridget's little face paled, and she bit down on her lip.

Someone ventured a careful laugh.

"Maybe she just came to her senses once she got pregnant."

"I mean, she's carrying a belly that big now. If she actually divorced, who's going to take on secondhand goods like her?"

"Women, right? However tough their mouths are, the second they've got no way out, they learn to be scared."

Jude shot him one cold look, and the man shut up instantly.

He leaned back into the couch, tapping his knuckle against the glass, one beat after another, his voice low.

"Alma's not that kind of woman. She's hiding something from me."

"This isn't going to just slide by. I'm going to keep testing her. I don't buy that she really feels nothing."

"I want to see what exactly she's up to."

His friends exchanged looks, their expressions turning a little odd.

Someone laughed it off, awkward.

"Never figured you actually cared this much about Alma, Jude."

"Thought you didn't have any feelings left for her at all."

"The hell are you talking about."

Someone beside him cut in at once.

"You know who Jude loves most, don't you? Bridget, obviously!"

By now Bridget couldn't force out a smile at all, her eyes red, her whole face full of resentment.

Jude said nothing, just drank, one glass after another.

Delia frowned and muttered a curse under her breath.

"That worthless piece of trash. Acting like he ever cared about you. If he cared even a little, he wouldn't have cheated on you twice while you were pregnant!"

I had no interest in watching any more of it. I just pulled her up by the hand.

"Come on. Let's go home."

The next morning, at first light, Jude—who hadn't come home all night—pushed open the bedroom door and hauled me straight out of bed.

His voice was cold.

"I'm going to give Bridget the wedding she deserves."

"She's trying on gowns today and getting the reception ready. It's her first time dealing with any of this, so she has no experience. You'll go and be her assistant."

His grip left my wrist throbbing, and whatever sleep was left in me was gone.

Last night he hadn't found the breakdown he'd wanted on my face, so today he'd switched to a new way to cut me.

When I walked into the venue, a flicker of triumph crossed Bridget's eyes.

Jude said flatly,

"She's your assistant today. Anything dirty or exhausting, hand it to her."

Bridget looped her arm through his at once and cooed,

"Jude, this train is too long. I really do need someone to hold it up for me."

Jude looked at me.

"Didn't you hear? Go hold her train."

I bent over my belly, and the second my fingers touched the fabric, Bridget took two steps forward.

I gritted my teeth and went after her, and she quickened her pace again as if by accident, keeping me chasing the train in circles with one hand braced on my stomach.

After a few rounds, cold sweat beaded on my forehead and the color drained from my face.

The stylist beside us couldn't stand it and said quietly,

"Mr. Gilbert, why don't I take over? Mrs. Gilbert is pregnant, after all."

Jude turned a hard look on her.

"She's willing to do it herself. Who asked anyone to interfere?"

The amusement in Bridget's eyes deepened. Then she said she was thirsty and sent me to fetch water.

I carried the glass over to her, and she let out a little shriek and threw the whole thing over me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. My hand slipped."

The hot water soaked through my clothes.

Under all those mocking, contemptuous stares, I curled my fingers into my palm,

clenched my jaw, and said, "It's fine."

Seeing that I was still holding it in,

Jude's brow furrowed, and he ordered, "Bring over the gift I prepared."

The moment the box opened, both Bridget and I froze.

Inside lay a somewhat worn wedding gown and a ring whose color had long since dulled.

One look, and my eyes went hot.

This was the wedding gift Jude had given me.

That year, I sold the house my mother left me and used the three million to clear the Gilbert family's debts.

We'd agreed we would go get married the moment the debts were paid, but Jude disappeared for three months.

Then, three months later, he showed up at the door of our rented apartment, covered in dust,

holding this exact gown and this ring in his arms.

Only then did I learn he'd been hauling bricks at a construction site by day and washing dishes at a restaurant by night, saving up bit by bit for this wedding gift.

Jude decorated the rented apartment with a few strings of cheap balloons, knelt on one knee by the peeling wall, and slid the ring onto my finger.

His eyes were red as he said,

"Alma, you've already given up so much for me. When it comes to our marriage, I want to give you the best I possibly can."

"Wait for me a little longer. Someday I'll replace this gown and this ring with better ones."

I waited three years, then another three.

And what I got instead was coming home early from a prenatal checkup to find him tangled up with his newly hired secretary in my bed.

Seeing my eyes redden and my hands shake beyond control, the darkness on Jude's face lifted in an instant.

Bridget pouted and complained,