"Zack, please, not again," I begged, clutching the bedframe as he loomed over me. My voice cracked, each word scraping against the lump in my throat. "I can’t keep doing this. It’s hurting me—it’s hurting the baby."

Zack’s face remained impassive as he pulled me out of the room.

"She’s not my responsibility!" I sobbed, clutching my belly protectively. "What about us? What about our baby?"

He paused, his gaze flickering to my rounded stomach for the briefest moment before hardening again. "The baby will be fine. Amber’s life is what matters right now."

Of course, it did. It always had.

Amber was his first love, the woman who had left him years ago and broken his heart. When she came back—sick, fragile, and helpless—Zack hadn’t hesitated to take her in. And ever since that day, I had become invisible. Worst of all, I became her blood bank.

"Please, Zack," I tried again. "I’ve already given so much—three transfusions this week alone. I can barely stand. If this keeps up, something will happen to the baby."

His jaw tightened. "You’ll be fine, Harriet. Stop being so selfish."

Selfish. The word hit me like a slap. My knees buckled, but Zack caught me before I could collapse, his grip on my arm firm as he dragged me toward the hallway.

He pulled me into the sterile white room where the nurse was already waiting.

"Mr. Wilford, are you sure about this?" she asked, her eyes darting toward me. "Your wife looks pale. She should rest."

"She’ll be fine," Zack snapped, his voice sharp enough to make the nurse flinch. "Just do your job."

I collapsed into the chair, my body trembling with exhaustion. The nurse hesitated but eventually tied the rubber band around my arm. The needle pierced my skin, and the sight of my blood filling the bag made nausea rise in my throat.

"Zack," I whispered, my vision darkening at the edges. "Please, I can’t..."

But his focus wasn’t on me—it was on the blood bag. The same detachment I’d seen for weeks. I wanted to scream, to make him see me, but the world tilted violently, and darkness swallowed me whole.

When I opened my eyes, the room was dim. My body felt heavy, drained of every ounce of strength. For a moment, I lay there, disoriented, until the memory of Zack’s cold grip and the nurse’s needle hit me like a punch.

"Zack..." I croaked, pushing myself up on shaking arms.

He wasn’t here. Of course not.

I stumbled out of bed, leaning heavily against the wall for support. My legs trembled as I made my way down the hall, the faint sound of voices guiding me like a thread.

The light spilling from Amber’s room stopped me in my tracks. I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest.

"But Zack," Amber’s tone turned hesitant, "what about Harriet? You can’t keep this up forever."

He didn’t answer immediately, and for a moment, I let myself hope. Maybe he’d defend me. Maybe he’d remember the promises we made, the life we’d built.

Then he spoke.

"Once she delivers the baby, I’ll get rid of her." His words were cold, final. "She was always just a stand-in, Amber. You’re the one I love. You always have been."

A strangled gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. My vision blurred as I stumbled back from the door, Zack’s words echoing in my mind.

I clutched my stomach, tears spilling down my cheeks. My legs carried me back to my room on instinct, though I barely felt the ground beneath me.

The hospital room was cold, sterile, and unbearably quiet. I lay on the stiff mattress. Days had passed, and not once had Zack visited. Not once had he checked if I was okay.

Instead, all I heard were whispers in the hallways. Whispers of Zack’s constant presence in Amber’s room, of how attentive he was to her needs.

I clenched my hands into fists, ignoring the IV needle tugging against my skin. My baby deserved better. I deserved better.

The door creaked open, and for a fleeting moment, hope stirred in my chest. But it wasn’t Zack. Just a nurse with a clipboard and a polite smile.

“Mrs. Wilford, your prenatal check-up is scheduled for this afternoon.”

I nodded weakly, watching as she scribbled notes before leaving.

An hour later, I finally got through to Zack on the phone.

“Zack, it’s me,” I said, my voice shaky but firm. “We have the baby’s check-up this afternoon. Can you—”

“Harriet, I’m busy,” he cut me off. I could hear muffled voices in the background—Amber’s laughter. “Just go by yourself. Amber needs me right now.”

"Zack, this is important—"

“So is Amber’s health.” His tone left no room for argument. The line went dead before I could respond.

My chest tightened, anger and heartbreak bubbling inside me. I dragged myself out of bed, my legs trembling beneath me. If Zack wouldn’t be there for our baby, then I would.

The clinic smelled of antiseptic and lavender air freshener. I clutched the chair’s armrests as the sonographer moved the cool gel-covered wand across my belly.

“You’re having twins,” she said.

Twins.

I should’ve been overjoyed, but Zack’s words played on repeat in my mind. “Once she delivers the baby, I’ll get rid of her.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I stared at the screen, watching the tiny heartbeats flicker. My hands trembled as I touched my stomach. How could I protect them if I couldn’t even protect myself?

The reality of my situation hit me like a brick wall. I had no money, no job, and nowhere to go. Zack had controlled everything since we married. I’d traded my independence for a wedding ring and the illusion of security, and now I was trapped.

Or was I?

My gaze fell to my left hand, to the diamond ring that glinted under the clinic lights. It symbolized love, loyalty, and forever—things Zack had already shattered.

I made my decision.

The jeweler’s eyes widened as he inspected the ring under a magnifying glass. “This is exquisite,” he said. “I can offer you $100,000.”

My breath caught. It was more than I’d dared to hope for. “Deal,” I said.

Minutes later, I walked out of the store with a cashier’s check tucked securely in my purse. My hands shook as I hailed a cab to a lawyer’s office.

The receptionist barely glanced up as I approached. “How can we help you?”

“I need to draft a divorce agreement,” I said, my voice firm despite the ache in my chest.

After that, I returned to the hospital. As I approached my room, I heard Zack’s voice.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

I stepped inside, expecting concern, but his face was hard, his words colder. “Where were you?”

“I needed some air,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

“Well, Amber needs another transfusion tonight,” he said, brushing past me. “Get ready.”

I froze, my anger bubbling beneath the surface. But I swallowed it down, forcing my expression to remain calm. “Of course,” I said softly. “But first, I need you to sign something.”

Zack frowned, his irritation evident. “What now?”

“It’s for our mortgage. Just some formalities,” I lied, pulling the divorce papers from my purse.

He barely glanced at the documents before scrawling his signature at the bottom. “Happy?” he snapped, handing them back to me.

“Very,” I said, clutching the papers tightly.

Later that night, I booked the earliest flight I could find. The twins would not grow up in this life.

"You’re awake! Oh, Harriet, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me." Amber’s soft, sweet voice grated against my nerves as she entered the hospital room, carrying a tray of steaming soup. "I brought this for you. You need to regain your strength."

I glanced at her, my body too frail to sit up properly. "I’m not hungry."

Her expression faltered, but only for a moment. Then she plastered on that same smile, the one she always used to charm Zack. "But I made it just for you. It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve sacrificed for me."

"Amber, I said I’m not hungry," I repeated, turning my head away.

The crash of ceramic against the floor made me flinch. I whipped my head around to see the shattered remains of the bowl, soup splattered across the pristine tiles. Amber stood there, trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Why did you do that?" she sobbed, her voice quivering. "If you didn’t want it, you could’ve just said so. You didn’t have to throw it!"

"What?" I gasped, my chest tightening. "I didn’t—"

The door burst open, and Zack strode in, his eyes immediately darting to the mess on the floor and then to Amber’s tear-streaked face. "What’s going on here?"

"Harriet," Amber whimpered, clutching her chest as if she were on the verge of collapsing. "She... she didn’t want the food I made for her. I just wanted to help, but she threw it and yelled at me."

"That’s a lie!" I shot back, my voice shaking with anger. "I never touched that bowl. She threw it herself!"

Zack’s eyes narrowed as he turned to me. "Harriet, enough."

"Enough?" I sputtered. "She’s lying, Zack! I didn’t do anything!"

But he didn’t want to hear it. His focus was already back on Amber, his voice gentle, soothing. "Come on, let’s get you out of here. You don’t need this stress."

He scooped her into his arms as if she were a fragile doll, whispering reassurances as she buried her face in his chest. At the door, he paused and glanced back at me, his expression devoid of warmth.

"Don’t forget," he said coldly. "Amber needs your blood later. Try to be cooperative."

The door shut behind them, and I was left alone, the sound of my pounding heart echoing in the sterile silence.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. My chest heaved with suppressed rage, but I knew there was no point in arguing. Zack had made his choice, and it wasn’t me. It never was.

That night, I packed the few things I had in the hospital room then left the divorce papers. I placed them neatly on the small table beside the bed for him to immediately see.

Then, without looking back, I walked out of the hospital. The airport buzzed with activity, the low hum of voices and announcements filling the space. I sank into a chair near my gate, clutching my ticket tightly. My fingers trembled as I stared at the destination: freedom.

My phone buzzed in my lap, Zack’s name flashing across the screen.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the answer button. The old Harriet, the one who begged and pleaded for scraps of his attention, would’ve picked up. But that woman was gone.

Instead, I let the call go to voicemail.

Seconds later, another call came through. Then a text.

Where are you?

You’re late for Amber’s transfusion.

Harriet, answer me!

A bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat as I typed my reply.

I’m done being her blood bank, Zack. I’m running away with your heirs, and you’ll never see us again.

I hit send and blocked his number before I could second-guess myself.