Otis had his arm around Vivian's waist. He tilted her chin up and kissed her.

Vivian yanked the curtain open, her eyes locking onto mine with a look of pure provocation.

She'd spotted me.

And I watched them, like a masochist, tangled together right before my eyes. I watched until they were done.

My phone buzzed shortly after. A message from Otis, his tone almost weary with concern.

"Elaine, fighting is one thing, but you just had a miscarriage and your body hasn't recovered. Take your medicine. I already had someone deliver it. Drink all of it."

"Be good. Don't take risks with your health."

He'd noticed how pale I'd gone tonight from the post-miscarriage pain. Before he left, he'd even brewed the medicine himself.

I almost laughed.

Lying in another woman's arms and still finding time to worry about me. How thoughtful of him.

Otis pulled Vivian back down onto the bed, clearly not finished with her.

I twisted the diamond ring on my finger, my gaze hollow.

When Otis and I first got engaged, he'd been broke. He'd drained every cent he had and could only afford a ring with a cheap, flawed stone.

But I'd treasured it like it was priceless. Even after he made his fortune and bought me countless expensive rings, I only ever wore that one.

Once, I lost it. I cried for a full day and night, couldn't eat, couldn't sleep.

Then one day, while I was cooking dinner for him, I found an identical ring inside the belly of a fish.

I thought it was a miracle. That fate itself had returned my ring.

I found out later that Otis hadn't wanted me to be upset. He'd had someone craft an exact replica and slipped it into the fish himself.

In that moment, the ring became his get-out-of-jail-free card. His golden shield against anything.

But a ring that had been replaced, no matter how identical it looked on the outside, was never the same one.

Just like Otis.

The man who had only had eyes for me, who had loved no one but me, had ceased to exist a long time ago.

I'd been fooling myself. All I'd earned was more heartbreak.

So I pulled the ring off my finger and tossed it into the filthy gutter beside me.

Along with the wreckage of this marriage.

Over the next few days, Otis didn't come home.

Vivian, however, made sure to send me regular updates on their happy little life together.

"I heard you always wanted to go horseback riding. Otis took me."

"He also took me to the stretch of coast where you two had your first date. I chopped down that coconut palm you planted together as a love token. He just laughed and called me a brat."

"I mentioned once that I wanted to try his cooking, and he learned how to cook for me. You were with him for so long—I bet he never did that for you, did he?"

Light, breezy little messages. Each one landed like a sledgehammer on my already shattered heart.

On the sixth day, Otis finally came home.

He reeked of alcohol. He'd been drinking heavily.

The moment he saw me, he snapped.

"Elaine, I've been gone for days. Why didn't you come looking for me?"

"You used to come find me if I disappeared for even a minute. Why didn't you look for me this time..."

But as he kept talking, his voice cracked with something that sounded like hurt. He was like an abandoned kitten that had finally found its way back home.

Just hours ago, he'd been in bed with Vivian.

I pushed his hand away, my expression betraying nothing.

"You're drunk. I'll have someone make you something to sober up."

I stood to leave.

A crash. Otis knocked the glass fruit bowl off the table. It shattered across the floor, shards scattering everywhere.

He held up his hand, sliced open by the glass, and said quietly, "Honey, I'm hurt."

I ignored the wounded look in his eyes.

"Wait here. I'll send someone to bandage that."

His face darkened instantly.

"I don't want someone else. I want you to do it."

"You never used to be like this. When I got hurt, you'd ask me if it stung. You're so cold now. You're not my Elaine."

Whenever we used to fight, he'd act like a little kid throwing a tantrum to win me back.

Every time, I'd think he was adorable and let him have his way.

Now I just felt inexplicably irritated. I pried his fingers off my sleeve and walked straight inside.

Otis, stubborn as ever, slept on the living room couch out of spite.

When I woke the next morning, he was sitting on the sofa with a dark expression.

"Elaine, you really want to split up that badly? You didn't even care that I slept out here."

I frowned, about to say something, when a familiar voice cut in.

"Are you two fighting this early in the morning? Looks like we picked a bad time."

I turned. It was Melvin, with Vivian in tow.

Melvin slung an arm around Otis's shoulder, wearing a look of exaggerated disappointment.

"Come on, man, what'd you do to upset her this time? Keep it up and she'll leave you for good!"

"And sis, don't take it personally. My boy here's hopeless with women. Let me set him straight for you!"

Otis shoved him off, his tone sharp. "What are you two doing here?"

His gaze lingered on Vivian for a split second. He was clearly annoyed that Melvin had brought her into the house.

Melvin only faltered for a moment before breaking into a grin.

"I came to share some big news. My wife's pregnant. Three weeks along. Just found out today. You two are the first people I wanted to tell."

I looked at Vivian's flat stomach, and something inside me went cold.

A life was already growing in there. Their child.

And all I could think about was the one I'd lost.

Three months ago, Otis had taken me on a trip. On the way, a drunk driver slammed into us and I ended up in the hospital.

My baby, nine months along, didn't survive. The damage to my uterus was so severe they had to remove it entirely.

I would never be a mother. Not in this lifetime.

When Otis heard that Vivian was pregnant, every trace of anger vanished from his face. He smiled and congratulated Melvin.

But I knew who he was really congratulating.

Melvin pulled Otis upstairs to talk business, leaving me alone in the living room with Vivian.

I ignored her and went about my business, but she wasn't the type to leave well enough alone.

She walked up to me, contempt dripping from every word.

"You saw everything that night. Otis loves me. Why won't you let go? I've never met a woman so shameless."

"Once my baby's born, you're out whether you like it or not. The Hensons aren't going to keep a hen that can't lay eggs."

I raised an eyebrow. "Being the other woman really gives you that much confidence?"

Vivian sneered. "You want to know what happens when you cross the other woman?"

"You end up just like your mother. Mine took everything from her. Kicked her out like a stray dog."

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I stood frozen.

"You're Lisa James's daughter?"

Lisa James had been our family's housekeeper. While my mother was still recovering from childbirth, Lisa seduced my father.

She'd hidden unidentifiable hair in my mother's meals. Poured toilet water into her cup. In the end, she even tried to kill me.

When my mother discovered the affair and threatened to take them to court, they turned the tables on her. They framed her as a murderer and had her arrested.

I was two years old when they dumped me at an orphanage and left me to fend for myself.

And now, her daughter had wormed her way into my marriage.

Vivian looked at me with triumph in her eyes.

"You're just as useless as your mother. Can't even hold on to a man. Both of you, worthless."

Slap.

My hand connected with her face before I even thought about it.

Vivian crumpled to the floor on cue, clutching her stomach and wailing in agony.

The commotion brought Otis and Melvin running down the stairs.

Melvin pulled Vivian into his arms, his face tight with concern.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Vivian leaned against him, her voice small and pitiful.

"Don't blame her. She probably can't help it. She can't have children of her own, so seeing me pregnant must have set her off. She didn't mean to hurt me or the baby."

Otis's expression darkened in an instant.

"Elaine, what is your problem? You can't have kids—that's your cross to bear. Don't take it out on other people."

"Apologize to Vivian. Now."

I let out a cold laugh and pointed to the security camera mounted in the corner.

"There are cameras in this house. They record audio too. Why don't you watch the footage before you start pointing fingers?"

The color drained from Vivian's face. She shifted uneasily.

"Forget it, forget it. She just lost her head for a second. I don't blame her. My stomach really hurts, though. We should go to the hospital and make sure the baby's okay."

Melvin looked at me with undisguised disappointment.

"I treated you like family. And you tried to hurt my child. This isn't over, Elaine. You owe me an explanation."

He scooped Vivian up and walked out without another word.

Otis shot me a withering glare before following them to the door.

"You went too far this time. When I get back, you and I are going to have a long talk."

I said nothing. After they left, I dragged my suitcase out of the house.

I had just gotten into the car when my phone buzzed. An anonymous video.

Vivian had just finished her checkup. She clung to Otis's arm, her voice trembling with barely concealed fear.

"Otis, do you think Elaine knows? That her baby didn't die in the accident—that I strangled it? Is that why she came after me like that?"

"Otis, I'm so scared."

He pulled her close, stroking her hair.

"She doesn't know anything. The driver I hired left the country. Nobody knows that crash was staged except the three of us. And nobody will ever find out how her baby really died."

Melvin's voice cut in, bitter and sharp.

"It's that driver's fault. He couldn't even time it right—couldn't kill the baby on impact. The kid survived the crash and had to be delivered. If he'd done his job, Vivian wouldn't have had to finish it herself."

The crash was staged.

My baby survived it. They killed my child with their own hands.

Rage erupted inside my chest like a furnace door blown open. I told the driver to turn around and floor it to the hospital.

Vivian spotted me coming down the corridor. She opened her mouth, ready to provoke me again.

My palm connected with her face before she could get a word out.

"Vivian Whitmore, I'm here to collect the debt you owe my child—with your life!"