Nathan stroked her hair and said, "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing. Let that woman sit in there and think about what she's done. She won't dare touch you next time."

But there was no next time for me. I was already dead.

I broke down and wept.

It had happened on my birthday. I had spent the afternoon cooking, setting the whole table, and waiting for Nathan to come home so we could celebrate together. Yet even after the food went cold, he never came.

I was just about to call him when Annie showed up at the door. She knocked my birthday cake off the table and jabbed a finger at my forehead, her chin tipped up with contempt.

"You think just because you married Nate, he belongs to you? Let me make something clear—he's mine."

I had had enough. I shoved her hand away, and she spun around, hitting the corner of the dining table and crumpling to the floor. Blood poured from her nose.

Nathan walked in at exactly that moment. His face twisted with fury as he rounded on me. "Sherry Alvarez! You know Annie has hereditary hemophilia. Were you trying to kill her? What is wrong with you?"

Annie tugged at the hem of Nathan's pants, her eyes wide and glassy. "Nate, please don't blame Sherry. It was an accident… I'm sorry, Nate. I think I might be dying. Promise me you'll take care of yourself. Be good to Sherry…"

Nathan's face fell. He gathered Annie in his arms and rushed her to the hospital. He didn't look back once. I stood there watching them go, feeling something inside me go still and cold.

That night, Nathan dragged me out of bed while I was asleep. He was convinced that I deliberately hurt Annie, and he had decided on a punishment. He forced me into the fridge in the kitchen, and no matter how I fought him, he didn't stop.

"Please, don't do this! I'll die in there."

"You're scared? What about Annie? Did you stop to think she might die when you went after her?"

I was crying so hard that I could barely get the words out. "I didn't hurt Annie. She bumped into the table herself. I never pushed her. Please, you have to believe me!"

"So now you're going to stand there and tell me she did it to herself?" he snapped.

I gripped the edge of the fridge with both hands, refusing to let him close the door as though it were my lifeline.

"I'm pregnant. You can't do this to me!"

I had planned to tell him after we cut the birthday cake. It was supposed to be a surprise.

Nathan didn't believe me. I scrambled to pull the test results from my pocket and held them out to him.

"Look. I really am pregnant."

He snatched the paper, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it in my face. "Do you think I'm stupid, Sherry? I've never touched you. So tell me, whose is it?"

"It happened the night you came home drunk…"

His expression darkened into something ugly. "Don't lie to me. Tell me whose baby it is!"

Tears ran down my face as I shook my head. "It's yours. Honey, I would never lie about something like this."

Two months ago, he had come home from a work dinner completely drunk, pulling me close and refusing to let go. And somewhere in the blur of that night, we slept together.

The next morning, he swore up and down that nothing had happened, that he never would have touched me in that state. I assumed he was too embarrassed to admit it and let it go.

Nathan's hand shot out and closed around my throat. He forced me into the fridge, and I heard the sound of my bones snapping.

He threw in a sheet of paper and a pen and told me to write a thousand-word letter of apology to Annie. Only then would he let me out.

No matter how I begged, he didn't soften. He grew impatient with the noise and sealed my mouth shut with packing tape, then unplugged the fridge and had it moved down to the wine cellar.

Before he left, he made it clear to the entire household that no one was to let me out without his permission or there would be consequences.

Inside, there was barely enough room to breathe. I was folded into myself at an unnatural angle, the walls pressing in from every side.

Fear swallowed me whole. I never stopped pleading with him in my heart, even when I knew he couldn't hear me.

"Honey, please let me out. I don't want to be in here. I'm so scared. Please."

"Think about what you've done, Sherry."

With that, Nathan turned and walked out of the wine cellar.

Inside the fridge, the cold was unbearable. I was still in my pajamas, shaking so violently that I could barely hold myself together. A sharp, tearing pain radiated from my abdomen, and blood had begun to seep out beneath me, spreading until it stained everything red.

I could feel the baby slipping away. Desperate, I threw myself against the walls of the fridge, thrashing and clawing, but the bleeding wouldn't stop, and neither did the pain.

"Please, someone save our baby. Let me out. Please."

But my mouth was sealed shut. The words never left my throat. All I could do was scream them in silence.

I had never imagined Nathan could be this cruel. No matter how I fought, no matter how I begged, nothing reached him. In the end, I died alone in the dark, trapped between agony and despair.

In the last moments before I closed my eyes, I kept telling myself he would come and throw open that door and pull me out.

He never did. He had already left for Arci with Annie to watch penguins and go skiing.

After I died, my soul drifted free of the fridge. Even now, the smallest memory of those final moments sent pain crashing through me like it was happening all over again.

…

After dinner, Nathan took a phone call in the living room, while Annie headed upstairs. When he finally hung up and pushed himself to his feet, his shoe caught on something. He bent down to pick it up. It was a paper gift bag, and inside was a men's dress shirt.

"Wanda, whose shirt is this?"

Wanda glanced over. "Mrs. Grayson bought it for you when she was out shopping a while back, sir."

Nathan pulled the white shirt out of the bag and stood there holding it.

The first time I ever saw him, he had been wearing a white shirt just like that one. He was tall, sharp-featured, and effortlessly put-together. He chased off two men who had been giving me trouble, and something about him stayed with me long after he walked away.

But I knew he loved Annie. So I buried my feelings and kept things simple between us—just friends, nothing more. Every time she broke his heart, I was the one who sat with him through it.

Our families had known each other for years, and his parents had always been fond of me. They wanted him to marry me. I expected him to refuse, but he didn't.

Annie was already out of the picture by then, and for a brief, foolish moment, I let myself be happy about it.

The happiness didn't last long. After the wedding, I understood that his parents had pressured him into it. He didn't love me.

I didn't give up. I thought if I was patient and genuine enough, I could reach him.

He had a chronic stomach condition, so I learned to cook around it and even studied physical therapy to help manage his flare-ups.

Slowly, his coldness toward me began to thaw. Things between us felt like they were finally changing.

Then Annie came back, and everything I had built quietly fell apart.

Nathan set the shirt back in the bag. "She's been in there long enough. She should've learned her lesson by now. Go ahead and let her out, Wanda."

Wanda nearly lit up with relief. "Right away!"

She was back within minutes, her face completely drained of color. "Mr. Grayson, something's wrong. You need to come quickly. Mrs. Grayson… She's… I don't think she's okay."

Nathan's body went still for just a moment, but he shook it off so quickly that it might have been nothing at all.

"Don't be dramatic," he said. "She's too clever to die. Go tell her the act isn't fooling anyone. If she wants out of this, she can bring that letter and get on her knees in front of Annie. She does that, and I'll let it go."

A bitter smile pulled at my lips. I had been naive enough to believe he felt something for me, even if just a little.

Clearly, I had been wrong. Annie was all he had ever seen. The idea that I would fake my own death for his attention was almost funny.

"It's not an act, Mr. Grayson. I called out to her over and over, and she didn't respond. There's blood everywhere…"

"Enough." Nathan's voice cut sharp.

"Did she pay you to do this? Is that what's happening? Get out of this house. Now!"

Wanda left.

Nathan went upstairs, walked straight into the bedroom, and kissed Annie. I turned away. I was already thinking about leaving when he pulled back, his voice soft in a way it never was for anyone else.

"Get some sleep, Annie. I've still got some work to get through. I'll come back when I'm done."

Annie nodded and settled in without a word.

I looked at her for a long moment. She wore innocence like a costume, but I had seen what lived underneath it.

Before she and Nathan had left for Arci, she had slipped down to the wine cellar and blocked the fridge's vent. If she hadn't done that, I might not have died so quickly.

Nathan went to his study and lowered himself into the chair behind his desk, opening a folder. But his hands wouldn't stop trembling.

He sat with it for a moment, then threw the papers down and stood up. "Fine. Let's see what you're playing at."

He made his way down to the wine cellar and pushed the door open. The silence in there at that hour felt heavier than usual, the kind that pressed against one's ears.

Nathan walked up to the fridge. "Sherry, is that letter done?

"Actually, forget the letter. Just come out. If you apologize to Annie sincerely, that's enough. We'll put this behind us."

There was nothing. The cellar stayed silent.

When I didn't appear, something snapped in him. He drew his foot back and kicked the fridge, hard, more than once.

"Sherry, I'm not a patient man. I'll count to three, and you'd better be standing in front of me."

I watched him through my tears. I was dead. How did he expect me to move, to just walk out?

Then he reached for the handle and opened the fridge door.