"The kid will call you Mom, too," Daniel went on. "Vivian wants no title. Just take care of her, and you'll still be the hostess of the house."

I stared at Vivian's flat belly, a glaring testament to Daniel's betrayal. Yet he expected me to play nanny.

Vivian puffed out her belly, almost gloating. "Don't be jealous, Jesse. A baby in the house brings luck. Maybe when they're born, you'll have one, too."

I met Daniel's gaze, memories flooding back. Countless times, I'd broached the idea of having kids, only to be met with his dismissal. "Kids would disrupt our lives. It's not the right time yet."

I'd let go of that dream, even lying to my dying mother to cover for him, claiming I didn't want children.

I had been such a fool.

It wasn't that he hated kids. He just didn't want them with me.

The truth of love, or its absence, was painfully evident.

...

Daniel led Vivian to the master bedroom, where she sprawled on my bed and under my quilt.

Her cloying rose perfume saturated the air, making my stomach churn.

Daniel frowned. "Feeling sick? Go rest."

Vivian piped up, "I'm starving. I want some lobster bisque."

Daniel reached for his phone to order, but Vivian added, smirking at me, "I want Jesse to make it."

Her eyes glinted with provocation as she pleaded, "Please, Jesse. The baby and I are craving it."

"No," I refused without batting an eyelid.

She froze, and Daniel's scowl deepened. "It's just soup. Don't make a big deal out of it."

I fired back, "Why should I cook for your mistress and illegitimate child?"

Vivian's tears soaked the quilt. "How could you say that? The baby is not a mistake, just a little angel who arrived by surprise. I'm sorry for the trouble. I'll just leave."

She made a show of standing, but Daniel gently pushed her down. "Jesse, apologize."

I held his gaze, refusing to let my tears fall.

Vivian tried to shuffle off again, but Daniel held her arm, fixing me with a cold glare. "Have I spoiled you too much? You're acting lawless."

His hand swung, and a searing slap cracked across my face. Blood trickled from my lip, my cheek burning.

I stared at him, disbelief crashing over me.

Vivian cooed, "Daniel, don't fight over me. If Jesse won't cook, it's fine. I'm not that hungry."

Daniel wasn't having it. "I say cook, and you do it. Vivian, take a rest."

He dragged me to the kitchen, ignoring my stumbles. My leg hit the wall, bruising instantly.

Uncaring, he shoved me inside and locked the door. "Finish the soup, then you're out. I've got all day to wait."

Through the door, I heard Vivian giggle as she perched on Daniel's lap and ate my specially ordered blueberries.

Those were his favorites, now a bitter jest.

Wiping my tears, I pushed through the pain and prepared the bisque. In a daze, I accidentally knocked over a pot of boiling water and scalded my leg.

Daniel started toward me, but Vivian grabbed him. "I know she doesn't want to cook for me, but hurting herself like that is not worth it."

Daniel sank back, sneering, "Just her petty tricks. If she wants to play victim, let her."

Pain seared like ants devouring my flesh. I poured cold water over the burn, biting back screams.

Daniel was unmoved. The man who had once panicked over a paper cut on my finger was gone, replaced by a stranger.

...

I limped out of the kitchen and placed the bisque on the table.

Vivian beamed triumphantly. "Thanks for cooking through all that pain for me and the baby. Daniel, let's dig in."

Ignoring their cozy display, I hobbled to the guest room, agony pulsing with each step, and searched for the medical kit.

Daniel burst in, holding it. He frowned at my blistered, bruised leg. "Sit. I'll treat it."

I tried to refuse, but he pressed me down on the bed, his touch surprisingly gentle as he applied ointment.

His eyes flickered with concern, but he had caused this pain, giving me hope only to crush it again.

The pitiful act now felt hollow.

I gritted my teeth, fighting tears as the pain pulsed.

He wiped my cheeks gently. "Look at you, crying like a kid. Still can't stand the pain?"

His breath assailed me as he cooed, "Let's not fight, okay?"

I struggled, trying to push him away, but it was useless.

I hadn't done anything wrong. I was just unwilling to take care of Vivian and her child.

His scent, so familiar, pulled me back to the boy who'd once shielded me from my abusive family, promising I'd never hurt again.

Now he was the source of my agony.

...

Vivian's wails shattered the moment.

Daniel shoved me aside. My wound was caught on the bed, pain whitening my face.

Vivian lay weakly in his arms. The bisque bowl lay shattered, the soup pooling on the floor.

"I know you hate me and the baby," she sobbed, glaring at me. "But how could you poison the bisque to hurt us?"

I started to deny it, but Daniel's suspicious gaze stopped me.

He didn't trust me.

Exhaustion washed over me. Arguing felt futile.

"I didn't poison anything," I said flatly.

Vivian clutched his sleeve. "That bisque was all I had today. I don't blame her for hating me, but I won't let her harm our child."

An ambulance arrived swiftly.

Daniel scooped her up, grabbing the shattered bowl as evidence, and rushed out.

I collapsed, laughing hysterically until tears fell.

That afternoon, his bodyguards dragged me to the hospital. Daniel stood outside Vivian's room, where she lay pale.

They tugged me along and shoved me to the floor, ignoring my blisters that ruptured.

The pus flowed like punishment, trickling down my wounds.

I screamed, but Daniel was unmoved, lighting a cigarette. The smoke swirled around him, blurring his face.

"Tests came back. The bisque had abortifacients," he said.

"That's impossible," I protested.

He snapped, "Still lying at this point? I never thought you'd stoop to such viciousness."

Daniel branded me a liar and a viper.

Words of defense died in my throat as I knew he wouldn't believe me, no matter what.

To him, my voice was just noise.

I stayed silent, but it only confirmed his verdict.

A doctor emerged. "Ms. Duffy lost too much blood. The blood bank is low."

Daniel nodded, pointing at me. "Use hers. She caused this, and she pays the price. Drain her if you have to."

I thrashed, but the guards pinned me down.

My blood flowed through tubes to Vivian, my lips paling as dizziness set in.

The doctor signaled enough, but Daniel waved him off.

Before I blacked out, I saw him kiss Vivian's forehead so tenderly, as if she were his soulmate.

...

I came to at night, discarded on a bench.

Pain was still radiating through me. The IV needle dangled from my arm, blood pooling on the floor.

Gritting through pain, I yanked it out and limped home.

Daniel and Vivian were already there. He pushed her wheelchair, her face pale but smug.

She hadn't miscarried, but she needed rest.

I brushed past them, certain that only she and I had touched the soup.

I had added nothing, so there was only one possibility. She'd poisoned herself to frame me.

I retreated to the guest room, packed my things, and placed a divorce agreement on the desk.

Daniel barged in and commanded, "I'm meeting a client. Go look after Vivian, and no tricks! If anything happens to her or the baby, you're done."

He shoved me into the master bedroom, now unrecognizable with cribs, rockers, and toys.

Alone, Vivian dropped her act. "Why do you cling to Daniel like a leech? Seven years, and you still don't get it. I'm the one he loves. If I hadn't left back then, you'd never have had a shot. Be smart and walk away with dignity."

"Being a homewrecker makes you so proud?" I shot back. "As long as I'm here, you and that kid remain illegitimate."

Fury flashed across her face, then morphed into a sly grin. She grabbed her phone and made a call. "Jesse has lost it. She is setting the house on fire. Save me!"

I blinked as she cackled, "Once you're gone, I'll step right into your place."

She flicked a lighter, tossing it at me.

I dodged, and it hit the bed, igniting it instantly.

We were trapped in the room as the fire grew stronger. The thick smoke choked me, making me cough uncontrollably.

Daniel rushed back, kicking the door open. I reached out my hand to him, and he instinctively moved to pick me up.

A sudden cry from Vivian stopped him cold. He bypassed me and went straight to her, lifting her into his arms.

"You set this fire!" He spat at me. "Crawl out yourself!"

By then, smoke had filled my lungs. My strength was gone, and my outstretched hand was my last hope.

He crushed it, turning away.

It was a scene all too familiar. I had seen it too many times, and my heart turned to ash.

Finally, I could face reality and tell him that I was done.