In the days that followed, I continued to play the part of the perfect wife and mother. I cooked, I cleaned, I smiled. But Hunter' s gaze grew colder with each passing day. It was unnerving, like he was calculating something.

One evening, after putting Kaylee to bed, he called me into his study. The room was dim, the air heavy with the scent of cigars and old books. He stood by the window, several cigarette butts already piled in the ashtray beside him. He looked out at the city lights, his back to me.

When he turned, his expression was unexpectedly soft, almost gentle.

"Krystal," he said, his voice low. "I think it' s time I gave you your freedom."

My breath hitched. My hands, resting on the back of a leather armchair, trembled involuntarily. Did I hear him right?

He smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips. He walked towards me, his movements unhurried, and gently brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"Aubrie is pregnant," he confirmed, his touch strangely tender. "And the child is mine."

My heart was a raging storm, but I kept my head down, my gaze fixed on the polished floorboards. I couldn' t show him the surge of unexpected hope that threatened to overwhelm me. I couldn' t let a single flicker of joy betray me.

I remembered the early days of our marriage, my futile attempts to escape. I had run away countless times, only to be dragged back by him. Each time, his eyes were bloodshot, terrifying.

"Still planning on running, Krystal?" he would purr, his voice laced with a chilling amusement.

His hand would always find its way to my neck, resting there lightly, a silent threat. "Stay by my side, and maybe, just maybe, I' ll let you go one day."

Those memories flashed through my mind, a dark reel of fear and submission. I couldn' t trust his words. Not completely.

But the thought of leaving him, the sheer possibility of it, was like a fragile sprout pushing through barren earth. It was a tiny, tentative hope.

"Can you… can you really let me go?" I dared to ask, my voice barely a whisper.

His smile remained, but the warmth drained from his eyes. They became cold, hard. I didn' t know what I had said to anger him.

He slammed his hand down on the desk, the sound echoing through the quiet room. My body flinched. He seized my arm, dragging me roughly towards the desk. His voice, a low growl, was a demonic whisper in my ear.

"I can' t let you go, Krystal. Not ever." His grip tightened, a physical manifestation of his suffocating hold on me.

He wouldn' t let me go. But he was building a new life, a new family, with another woman. My stomach churned with a sickening mix of anger and confusion. Aubrie was different. He actually cared for her. Hunter, who had always treated women as disposable, was attentive, even respectful, to Aubrie.

Their two-year affair had blossomed, seemingly, into something stable, something happy. He allowed her to parade herself in front of me and Kaylee, a constant, subtle provocation. Every night, he would come home smelling of her perfume, a scent that clung to him like a second skin.

I pretended not to notice, not to smell it. I just endured, waiting, wishing for the day he would grow tired of me. I longed for him to be the one to ask for a divorce.

Why, now that Aubrie was carrying his child, was he still clinging to me?

I remembered the first time I met him. He had said he loved me. He had pursued me with a ruthless determination, systematically destroying my family' s finances and Alan' s career, forcing me into this marriage.

The day Alan broke up with me, he cried. He told me Hunter had threatened his family. Hunter had stood there, a victorious smirk on his face, pulling me into his arms.

"You' re mine, Krystal," he' d whispered, his eyes blazing with a possessive fire. "Anyone who tries to take you away will pay the price."

I saw the love in his eyes then, and the madness. If this was how he loved, I thought, then I would accept my fate.

But Aubrie was the exception. Hunter showered her with affection, respect, and freedom, everything he denied me. He had only ever caged me.

He stopped loving me a long time ago. I was sure of it.

The thought of leaving him, of truly being free, consumed me. My old enemy, insomnia, returned with a vengeance.

Hunter was gone for a few days, a rare reprieve that allowed me to breathe. After dropping Kaylee off at school, I decided to go to the hospital for a check-up. If I didn' t take care of myself, no one would.

And then I saw him. Hunter, with Aubrie, in the maternity ward.

Aubrie was laughing, playfully tugging at his arm. Hunter, hands in his pockets, listened patiently, a soft smile on his face. He never looked at me that way. He never listened to me with such patience.

Suddenly, his head snapped up. His eyes, sharp and intense, locked onto mine. He took a step forward, an instinctive reaction.

But Aubrie was quicker. She coiled her arm around his, pulling him back. They walked towards me, her smile triumphant.

"Krystal, darling," Aubrie purred, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "You knew about us all along, didn' t you?"

I said nothing. My silence was her victory.

"Hunter and I are in love," she declared, her eyes sparkling.

Her happiness seemed to inflate with my silence. She tilted her head, a challenge in her gaze. "Why aren' t you jealous, Krystal? Why don' t you make a scene?"

My heart was beating steadily, no tremor of emotion. My mind felt slow, dulled by exhaustion.

Hunter grew impatient. "Krystal," he said, his voice clipped. "Go get Aubrie' s prenatal vitamins from the pharmacy."

He held out the prescription, his wedding ring glinting under the harsh hospital lights. It was a grotesque symbol of my servitude.

I slowly lifted my head. They were treating me like a housemaid. The thought ignited a spark of something long dormant within me.

With a sudden burst of defiance, I slapped the prescription out of his hand. It fluttered to the floor, a single sheet of paper.

"Why should I run errands for your mistress, Hunter?" My voice, usually so quiet, resonated with a force I hadn' t known I possessed.

The three of us froze. The years of suppressed anger, the buried temper, flared to life. This feeling… it was exhilarating. I had endured so much, even closing doors behind them, pretending not to notice their affair. This felt good.

I didn' t care about their reactions. I accidentally stepped on Hunter' s foot, then glared at him.

His laughter, loud and unhinged, filled the sterile hallway. I knew it wasn' t because of me. He wasn' t laughing with me; he was laughing at me.

I hurried away, desperate to escape. I knew I had angered him.