Lotta smiled through her tears, clinging to Richard's arm as they walked away.
Kimberly let out a bitter laugh, not expecting his love for Lotta to run so deep that he'd get snipped for her.
She touched her belly, feeling the tiny life inside. This child would never know a father's love. Keeping it would only bring more pain, especially since she was moving on to a new marriage.
Wiping her tears, she made a call. "I need to schedule a pregnancy termination. As soon as possible."
The procedure was quick. Barely recovered, she received a call from Richard. "Where are you? You're not home."
"What is it?" she mumbled numbly.
He faltered at her cold tone. "Come on, don't be mad. I got you a custom anniversary gift. Come home and check it out."
Kimberly dragged her aching body back and opened the door, only to find Lotta there.
"Oh, Kimberly, you're back?" Lotta said, standing in the living room like she owned the place, directing workers as they moved things around.
In the center was a half-person-high sculpture, covered in cloth. When they unveiled it, Kimberly's eyes widened in horror.
It depicted a naked woman entangled with several men, ecstatic. It was unmistakably her face.
"You!" she gasped.
Lotta smirked viciously. "Richard's anniversary gift to you. Don't you like it? Art imitates life. I had a master sculptor create it just for you. Look at her face; it's spot-on, right?"
The sculpture depicted her past assault, and Kimberly's heart felt torn open. She slapped Lotta hard across the face, but the latter grinned triumphantly.
Spotting someone behind Kimberly, Lotta burst into tears. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I did wrong. Please don't hit me."
"Lotta!" Richard's voice rang out.
He rushed up and shoved Kimberly to the ground. "What is wrong with you? Why did you hit her?"
Kimberly stared up at him, the love in his eyes now replaced by pure venom.
"Why?" Her voice broke, tears streaming down. "Why tell her about that? Why?"
It was her deepest, most painful secret—one Richard had sworn to keep forever. Now Lotta had weaponized it, ripping open the scar and forcing her to relive the humiliation.
He finally clocked the sculpture, but Lotta feigned innocence. "I didn't know you'd hate my choice so much. Please accept my apology."
But Richard shielded her, glaring at Kimberly with disappointment. "I chose the gift. Why take it out on her? Apologize to her."
Kimberly wanted to explain, but the post-procedure pain reminded her it was pointless. What use was reasoning with him? He only sided with the one he loved.
"Don't even think about it!" she said firmly. "She knows exactly what she's doing. And Richard, we're getting a divorce."
Richard froze, grabbing Kimberly's wrist. "Divorce? You want to divorce me?"
Before she could respond, Lotta whimpered, "My belly hurts so much. Richard, don't fight with her. I..."
She passed out mid-sentence, and Richard glared at Kimberly. "This is absurd! Stay here and think about what you've done!"
He scooped up Lotta and bolted out.
Amid the grave silence, the workers gave Kimberly sympathetic glances before hurrying away.
She stood up, grabbed a kitchen knife, and smashed the sculpture into pieces. Her heart ached densely, more from humiliation than pain.
It turned out that when Richard stopped loving someone, he could be utterly cruel. For three days straight, he didn't come home, and Lotta didn't text her again.
When Kimberly tried sending him the divorce agreement, she found he'd blocked her number. Unsure of his whereabouts, she turned to his assistant, who answered, "Mr. Munoz is at the lounge, having drinks."
She followed the location to the upscale lounge. In a private room, Richard was confiding in his best friend.
"You really blocked Kimberly for that woman? Have you forgotten how good she's been to you all these years?" said his friend.
Richard winced. "I do love Kimberly. Even after what happened to her, I fought everyone to make her my wife. But every time we're in bed, that reluctant look on her face makes me feel like I'm forcing her. She can't forget it, and neither can I."
He took a deep drag on his cigarette, his eyes softening. "But Lotta's different. I was her first. She's been with me without demanding any status. I already owe her so much. She's just like Kimberly was back then: pure and innocent. She has this bucket list of things I always wanted to do with Kimberly. Being with Lotta feels like reliving my youth. She deserves better."
Kimberly's hand froze on the door. So, that was how he saw her.
Seven years ago, she'd endured that horror to save him. But in his telling, it made her sound tarnished and unwilling.
She stumbled out of the lounge, lost. Outside, rain poured down, just like that stormy night seven years ago.
Back then, Richard had proposed to her. He'd just started his business but was getting squeezed from all sides. Then he'd stolen a big contract from a rival, making enemies.
That night, he said he had to entertain clients. Worried, Kimberly went to pick him up.
In the downpour, she saw him unconscious, being dragged into a van. Terrified, she chased after them until they reached an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts.
They'd drugged him deliberately and planned to break his legs.
She burst in, desperately begging them to spare him. But they grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the bushes.
She fought and pleaded, but they slapped her hard. "Make another sound, and we'll snap his legs. He'll be crippled for life!"
Eyes wide, she glanced at the unconscious Richard and went limp, like a marionette. Tears streamed down her face as the thugs crowed excitedly.
"This woman is an idiot, sacrificing herself for that guy. Bet he won't want her after we wreck her."
"We're desperados. If you go to the cops, we'll finish him off."
After they left, Kimberly suppressed her hysteria and got Richard home. When he woke, clueless, he grilled her about her swollen eyes and disheveled hair.
Afraid he'd do something reckless, she lied about running into a mugger. She never told him the truth, fearing lifelong guilt would consume him.
She didn't report it, terrified the thugs would harm him. Later, when nude photos of her arrived, he went ballistic, demanding answers.
She only said she'd been assaulted by thugs that rainy night. He was devastated, vowing to protect her forever.
In bed, he was patient, but nightmares constantly dragged her back to that trauma. Still, to avoid disappointing him, she forced herself to respond.
Now, it seemed he'd always viewed her as damaged goods. Her sacrifice felt like a tragic joke.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Lotta: [What do you think if I ask him for a wedding? Will he agree?]
Kimberly stared blankly at the message.
When she married Richard, they'd kept it simple: just a table at a hotel with a few relatives and friends.
She'd suggested it, not wanting him to spend his last savings on a wedding while in debt. But on that day, he had still given her the wedding dress of her dreams. She'd been overjoyed yet sad.
The dress maxed out his credit card; his suit was a cheap thrift-store fare. Even so, he'd hugged her, tears in his eyes. "I can't give you the best right now. But when I make it big, I'll throw you the grandest wedding ever."
Yet once he succeeded, he gave that wedding to Lotta instead.
Kimberly shut her eyes and typed: [Bigamy is illegal.]
Before she could send it, Lotta replied: [Yay, he agreed! Kimberly, for all the years you've served him, I'll let you attend our wedding. Honestly, not making him kick you out of the house already is me being generous.]
The words stabbed like knives. Still, Kimberly wanted to see Richard's perfect wedding for herself.
On that day, she disguised herself in a work shirt, wig, and mask, sneaking in as a server.
Richard had booked the city's most expensive hotel, spending a million on decorations alone. Even the wine was air-shipped Romanée-Conti.
The lights dimmed, and Lotta walked the aisle in a diamond-encrusted gown, drawing gasps of admiration.
Richard, in custom tailoring, extended his hand with deep affection. They looked so perfect together, their vows so heartfelt.
Kimberly realized then that he never saw her as his true bride, so that promised wedding never materialized.
What Lotta achieved with a single request, Kimberly couldn't get in a lifetime.
He slipped a ten-carat diamond ring onto Lotta's finger, his voice tender. "I take you, Lotta Anderson, for better or worse."
The diamond sparkled under the lights as he declared, "From this moment, you're my wife, Lotta. I'll love you forever."
Lotta teared up, and they embraced in a sweet kiss.
The crowd cheered as the atmosphere peaked. But Kimberly's hand shook, knocking a wine bottle off her tray. The noise attracted all the attention to her.
Holding Lotta's hand, Richard strode over with a sullen expression. "What the hell are you doing? Do you know how expensive that bottle is?"
Kimberly croaked numbly, "Sorry."
She bent down to clean it, ignoring the glass slicing her fingers.
Lotta recognized her immediately. In fact, she'd arranged for the hotel to let Kimberly in. "They say breaking glass at a wedding brings good luck, but she shattered it during our kiss. Does she think we don't deserve happiness?"
Richard's expression turned stormy. He stomped on Kimberly's hand.
She yelped as shards pierced her skin, blood flowing, but the man was relentless. "Apologize to my wife."
Kimberly stayed silent, her body trembling.
"Forget it, Richard. She didn't mean it," Lotta said, feigning kindness. "Go easy; she's just a server scraping by. Maybe she's jealous of me."
Richard pulled her close. "You're too kind. Don't let people take advantage of you."
Then he glared at Kimberly, full of disgust. "Causing this mess on my wedding day? That's disrespect to my wife and me! Whatever your issue, know this: my wife has things you'll never touch in your lifetime. The hotel owner is my friend. If you don't apologize, every staff member here gets docked pay today!"
The other servers panicked.
"You heard the man. Do it!"
"That wine's over $100,000, and you smashed it on purpose!"
"Mr. Munoz, please continue the wedding. We'll handle her."
Kimberly's heart stung. Before she could ask if he'd truly abandon her for Lotta, the servers forced her head down, making her lick the spilled wine.
"Mr. Munoz, is this good enough?"
Richard cradled Lotta. "Toss her out. Don't let her scare my wife."
If Lotta was his wife, then what was she? As they dragged her out, her mask slipped off as she brushed past Richard. He didn't recognize her.
Outside, the sun shone warmly, but she felt frozen. Staring at the closed banquet doors, she murmured, "Thanks, Richard. Now I can finally move on."
She trudged home to get her packed bags. But in the underground garage, someone clamped a cloth over her nose.