1 I held the family shirts I’d embroidered all night, our little cartoon faces stitched with care. My heart was light as we drove to Noah’s kindergarten sports day. Then Phill spoke, shattering my world without warning. “Noah isn’t your son.” His tone was flat, casual, as if commenting on the weather. I froze, blood running cold. He kept his eyes on the road. “Sierra was afraid of pain. I paid to have her embryo implanted in you. That’s why you had such severe rejection—he was never biologically yours.” Sierra. The girl I sponsored through college, now a teacher at Noah’s school. Bile rose in my throat. “Why tell me now?” My voice was a broken whisper. He shrugged, a cold smirk on his lips. “I grew tired of watching you play the perfect, devoted wife. It started to look pathetic. Time for a reality check.” I looked down at the smiling faces on the shirts. My whole life felt like a cruel joke. Later, I sat at home, tightly gripping a DNA test report. The thin sheet of paper felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, completely crushing my lungs. The names listed under biological parents were painfully clear. Noah and Sierra. The ninety nine percent match burned my retinas. I forced back my tears and looked at the man sitting next to me. He looked perfectly relaxed, even in a good mood. "When did it happen? Between you and Sierra." The deep, gentle voice I used to be so desperately addicted to now spit out the coldest poison imaginable. "Ironically, I have you to thank for it. If you had not insisted on making Sierra your maid of honor, I never would have met someone who suited me so perfectly." "It happened on our wedding night. Remember when I told you there was an emergency at the company and I had to leave? Sierra and I confessed our feelings that night. We just could not control ourselves." I stared at him in absolute disbelief. My heart crumpled into a bleeding mess. I would never forget that night. I thought it was the happiest moment of my life. I had walked down the aisle with the absolute love of my life, believing we would belong to each other until our dying breath. I was so blinded by joy that I did not suspect a single thing when Phill said he had to go to the office. I even felt a deep, aching gratitude toward him. I thought he was leaving because he wanted to be gentle with my psychological trauma. I thought he was giving me time to adjust to the physical intimacy of marriage. I had absolutely no idea he was consummating our marriage in another woman's bed. My voice trembled like dead leaves in the wind. "Then why tell me now? You could have kept this a secret until the day I died." Phill's face softened instantly. A look of deep, spoiling affection washed over his features, but it was not for me. "Sierra is pregnant again. It is a little girl. I promised her this baby would be the undisputed princess of my empire, and I always keep my promises." "I originally thought about using the same trick. But you refuse to even let me touch you anymore. Getting you pregnant again is impossible. So I had to put my cards on the table." "Whether you decide to accept this new child is your problem." I could not hold it in anymore. Hot, agonizing tears flooded down my face. My deepest, most agonizing scar had just become the knife he used to stab me in the back. He conveniently forgot that he once promised me the world. He promised we would be a single soul in two bodies. But in the end, he gave me the ultimate betrayal on the happiest day of my life. "So all those years you told me you loved me, when you said you would never force me... when you purposely ordered a custom, highly realistic mannequin with my exact face so you could cope... it was all an act?!" "You didn't touch me because you were already getting your fill somewhere else?" Phill scoffed, looking at me with pure amusement. "Not entirely." "Sierra is delicate. If I am too rough with her, she gets hurt. So yes, I do use that doll." "The face belongs to you. But the physical mold for the rest of the body..." He gave me a long, meaningful look. The humiliating implication was crystal clear. That single glance plunged me into a lake of freezing ice. So everything I believed in was a lie. All his restraint, all his deep affection. It was all just a beautiful illusion he built to cover up his nest with another woman. Those vows of eternal love were a script. And I was the only idiot who took them seriously. When we got out of the car at the kindergarten, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. Phill acted like absolutely nothing was wrong. He smiled brightly and helped our son change into his sports day outfit. I followed them like a walking corpse, completely tuning out Noah's excited screaming. A second later, a heavy leather ball slammed brutally into my stomach. I crashed hard onto the dirt floor. Even after five years, the surgical scar from the C section burned with an agonizing, piercing pain. Phill did not know this, but the phantom pain had never stopped. Every single night, my body would drag me back to the horrors of that pregnancy. The severe immune rejection pain would torture me until I almost passed out. The scar tissue would burn like acid. It felt like my abdomen was being sliced open while I was wide awake. When the pain reached its absolute peak, I would dig my nails into my own arms, hoping the new bleeding would distract my brain from the old agony. It was not that I did not want him to touch me. I was just terrified that if he saw me writhing in absolute psychotic agony, it would scare him away. But I never imagined my attempt to shield him would just give him the perfect cover to cheat on me. Noah watched me struggling to get up from the dirt. He grew impatient and kicked me hard in the shin twice. He turned around and whined to Phill. "Daddy, Mom is too clumsy! If she plays with us, I am definitely going to lose!" "Can Miss Sierra be my mom today and race with us? Everyone loves Miss Sierra. All the other kids will be so jealous of me!" Even though I already knew Noah did not share my blood, my heart still gave a violent, tearing ache. I carried him for ten months. I nearly died on the operating table for him. The immune rejection alone put me in the intensive care unit five different times. I gave up half my life to bring him into this world. How could I just cut him out of my heart? But at the same time, I suddenly realized something painfully clear. All the suffering I endured meant absolutely nothing against the magnetic pull of real blood. He was not mine. I was never going to keep him. The same went for Phill. I lay frozen on the dirt, completely unaware of when Sierra had walked over. The next thing I heard was her voice. She was wearing the matching family shirt I had made. "Oh my gosh, this fits perfectly!" she exclaimed with a sweet, surprised laugh. "I had waist reduction surgery a while ago, so normal clothes never fit me right. I thought this would look so bulky on me, but it is like it was custom tailored just for my body." My dead, hollow eyes twitched. I looked up at Phill in absolute disbelief. Phill was the one who suggested altering the waistline. It was on our fifth anniversary. He had pulled me into his arms and picked me up, spinning me around. He joked that I had gained a little weight. Then he gave me his anniversary present. It was a stunning, incredibly form fitting designer dress. He sighed and said it was a shame it was too tight. I felt so incredibly guilty. I thought my body had ruined his romantic surprise. I went completely crazy after that. I took every single piece of clothing I owned and paid a tailor to shrink the waists to match the exact dimensions of that dress. I forced myself to starve, pushing myself to the point of a bleeding stomach ulcer just to hit that target weight. I just wanted to make sure that on our next anniversary, I would be perfect for him. Looking back at it now, it was a pathetic joke. I had tortured my own body to fit another woman's mold. That anniversary dress was never meant for me in the first place. With Sierra taking my place, Noah easily won first prize. They basked in the envy and adoration of the crowd. The other kindergarten mothers surrounded them, praising what a beautiful, happy family they were. Sierra could not hide the smug triumph on her face, but she played the humble sweetheart perfectly. "Oh, you guys have it all wrong. I am just a teacher helping out. Noah's real mother is right over there." Dozens of eyes instantly shifted to me. Some looked at me with deep disgust, others with pathetic pity. After all, looking at the pale, shaking woman sitting in the dirt with ruined clothes, nobody would believe I was the wealthy wife of a corporate CEO. When Noah saw me looking at him, he burst into fake tears and buried his face in Sierra's chest. "She is not my mom! I want Miss Sierra to be my mom!" Phill exchanged a helpless, incredibly fond look with Sierra. He could not tear his eyes away from her. He did not even notice the dozens of malicious, judging stares stabbing into me. In a fraction of a second, the pain in my chest reached its absolute limit and then completely went numb. Pure survival instinct made me open my mouth. "Noah is right. Miss Sierra is his mother." The moment the words left my mouth, all three of them froze. Noah stopped his fake crying and stared at me in shock. They looked at me as if I was a cold blooded monster abandoning her poor family. Ignoring the shocked gasps of the crowd, Phill marched over, grabbed my arm, and violently dragged me toward the parking lot. He shoved me into the backseat of his luxury SUV. His eyes were filled with absolute disgust. "You really know how to play the obedient victim, don't you? I tell you to accept a second child, and your response is to happily give up your position as a mother?" "Did you announce that in public just to brand Noah as an illegitimate bastard?" "I just asked you to carry a baby for Sierra, and you hate me this much?" The bitter acid in my throat burned hotter. How could I possibly hate him? He was the one who pulled me out of the gutter. When I was a kid, my family was so desperately poor I did not even have the right to say no to anyone. So I learned to be quiet. I learned to be a good girl. Even when the school bullies targeted me, I never made a sound. The street thugs loved preying on quiet, broken girls like me. They threw basketballs at my head until I was covered in bruises. They burned my skin with curling irons. They choked me until my vision went black, just to see how long I could last before dying. Seeing that I would bite my own tongue until it bled rather than scream, the leader finally got bored with violence and shoved his dirty hands up my shirt. That was the exact moment Phill appeared. He was a wealthy, arrogant kid who solved problems with his fists. One brick to the head was not enough, so he used two. His handsome, wild face was splattered with blood, but he looked like the sun itself. When he looked down at me, there was no pity. There was no disgust. He just clicked his tongue. "Why are you so obedient? Do you not know how to fight back?" "Whatever. Being a good girl suits you. I will protect you from now on." Because of those two sentences, I followed him for twenty years. And he truly did protect me for twenty years. He never left my side, from the dark corners of high school all the way to the altar. I did not hate him. I just hated myself for being too greedy. I hated the fact that the bright, beautiful moon hung in the sky for everyone, but I foolishly believed it shined only for me. When Phill saw that I was not going to argue back, his patience evaporated. "Since you want to throw a tantrum and push things this far, you better keep playing the good girl." "I am moving Sierra into the house. She is going to be Noah's official mother." "You pack your things and move to the guest room. Sierra and I are taking the master suite." I thought I had gone completely numb, but watching my personal belongings being tossed aside to make room for another woman's clothes still made my vision blur. Sierra stood in the doorway, pretending to look shy and apologetic. "I am so sorry about this, Hazel. Phill just absolutely insisted he wants to see me in this lingerie tonight." I ignored the smug gloating in her voice. I just looked at her and asked the one question burning in my mind. "Why? I paid for your tuition and living expenses for ten years. Why would you do this to me?" There was not a single ounce of guilt in her eyes. "Sponsored me? The money you gave me over ten years is what I can make in a single night with him. Why would I throw away a golden ticket for your pathetic little charity?" "You were the one who taught me to fight for my own survival. I am just following your advice, big sister." "Besides, how are we any different? Phill sponsored you too. He paid for your life. If you can sleep your way into his mansion, why can't I?" My mind went completely blank. She was right. Phill was the one who sponsored me. He paid for my university, and eventually, I became his wealthy wife. Now, he was just transferring his "sponsorship" to someone new. His taste in broken girls never changed. I was just arrogant enough to think I was the exception. I did not say another word. I quietly carried my boxes out of the room that used to be my sanctuary. Night fell like a suffocating blanket. Through the thin walls of the guest room, the sound of their laughter and heavy breathing pierced right through my eardrums. The vile noises instantly violently triggered the darkest, most humiliating memories buried in my brain. It also woke up the monster living in my abdomen. Cold sweat soaked through my clothes. The phantom pain hit me like a burning iron rod twisting violently inside my stomach, threatening to rip its way out. A massive wave of nausea hit me. I leaned over the trash can and dry heaved violently, coughing up nothing but bitter stomach acid. I had been on a liquid diet for two days trying to maintain my waistline. There was nothing left inside me to throw up. After the nausea faded, the tearing, ripping agony of the C section took over. This was the brutal aftermath of the birth. I never had the courage to tell Phill. When I was suffering from the intense PTSD of almost being sexually assaulted, he was already exhausted trying to keep me sane. To calm me down, he used to hold me in his arms all night, reading me stories until the sun came up. I would eventually pass out from exhaustion, but he had to go straight to the office to run a massive corporation. He never got a moment of rest. If he knew that giving him a child had cursed me with chronic, agonizing pain, the guilt would have destroyed him. But now, it did not matter. Even if I told him, he had a new toy to play with. He would not care. I fumbled around in the dark, my brain fuzzy from the pain. I realized my prescription painkillers were empty. I kept a backup bottle in the kitchen medical kit. I used the wall to pull myself up and stumbled blindly out of the room. In the past, I would have locked my door and suffered in absolute silence until dawn. I was always terrified that making a sound would wake him up and expose my secret. But the disgusting noises coming from the master bedroom were a brutal reminder. He was at the peak of his pleasure right now. He was not going to notice a ghost haunting the kitchen. I poured a glass of water from the pitcher. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely open the pill bottle. A sharp spike of agony shot through my spine, making me lose my grip. White pills scattered all over the marble counter. Two of them bounced and fell directly into the open water pitcher. I was too blind with pain to notice. Just as I raised the glass to my lips to swallow my dose, a tiny voice echoed from the hallway. "Mom? What are you eating?" My heart stopped. I frantically swept the loose pills off the counter, swallowed my dose dry, and fought through the blinding pain to go coax Noah back to sleep. It took forever to get him to close his eyes. But just as I stood up to leave his room, a bloodcurdling scream shattered the silence of the mansion. Phill was screaming for the private family doctor. Inside the master bedroom, the sheets beneath Sierra were stained with a terrifying, blinding red. Phill was completely losing his mind, babbling to the medical staff. "She is pregnant! We didn't even do anything rough! How is this happening?!" "She just went to the kitchen for a glass of water! She came back and said her stomach was cramping!" A heavy, suffocating dread clamped down on my chest. Before I could even open my mouth, Noah ran into the room and pointed a furious finger at me. "I saw her! Mom put medicine in the water pitcher! Mom poisoned Miss Sierra!" "Mom is a monster! She should go die instead of Miss Sierra's baby!" Phill's head snapped toward me. His eyes turned completely feral. He did not give me a single second to explain. He lunged forward, grabbed my hair, and violently threw me onto the floor of the hallway. "It was you! You hate Sierra so much you poisoned her to kill my baby! You are an absolute psychopath!" "If anything happens to her child, I swear to God I will make you pay with your life!" I collapsed against the cold hardwood floor, my face drained of all color. A loud ringing noise deafened my ears. I wanted to explain. I opened my mouth, but my throat was so dry I could not produce a single syllable. And what was the point of explaining? I was taking pills for a phantom pain I had hidden for five years. The pills accidentally fell into the water. Sierra accidentally drank it. Would he believe a single word of that? No. He would never believe me. When the doctor quietly announced that the pregnancy was lost, Phill's eyes went dead and terrifyingly dark. He dragged me into the bedroom, grabbed a silk tie, and brutally bound my wrists to the heavy wooden bedpost. The sound of my shirt tearing echoed like a gunshot in my brain. "You love killing babies so much? Then you are going to give Sierra a new one to replace it!" I shook my head frantically, staring at him in absolute, mind breaking horror. "No! Phill, you can't do this to me! You know I have..." He laughed. It was the cruelest sound I had ever heard. "Have what? Trauma? PTSD? Do you honestly think I still believe a single word that comes out of your lying mouth?" "You played the innocent, broken girl for decades, but your true, venomous nature finally slipped out!" "Your trauma is a pathetic lie! I bet you absolutely loved it when those street trash put their hands all over you!" "Let me tell you a little secret, Hazel. Those thugs? They worked for me. Everything they did to you... I gave them the green light!" The blood in my veins completely froze. I stared at the man standing above me. The man I had wanted to spend eternity with. A bottomless wave of absurdity and pitch black despair swallowed my soul. Every single moment of warmth, every gentle touch from the past twenty years, dissolved into ash. It was all a lie. Every single ounce of suffering I had endured in my life was orchestrated by him. I was so incredibly pathetic. I thought I had reached up into the dark sky and caught the moon. I did not realize I was just holding onto a handful of toxic, burning rot. For twenty years, I had never actually escaped that dark alleyway. In that split second, the final thread holding my sanity together violently snapped. Ignoring the sickening crack of my wrist bone dislocating, I twisted my hand free and grabbed the small, sharp metal letter opener I kept under the bedside table. The blade that would usually bring me pain was now my only ticket to salvation. Looking straight into Phill's suddenly terrified, widening eyes. I did not hesitate for a fraction of a second. I plunged the cold steel deep into the artery of my wrist, slicing violently upward. "Hazel, no!"
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