Audrey POV:

Ethan' s eyes zeroed in on the red seal on the divorce papers. A flicker of confusion crossed his face. He started to reach for them, his hand outstretched.

Kendall gasped dramatically. "Oh, Ethan! My stomach just twisted into knots. I think I pushed myself too hard on that presentation." She clutched her abdomen, her face paling slightly.

Just like that, Ethan' s attention snapped away from me. "Kendall, darling, what's wrong?" He rushed to her side, his arm wrapping around her, his concern absolute. "You need to rest. Audrey, you can leave now. We'll talk later." He dismissed me with a flick of his wrist.

My heart, already a shattered mess, felt another sharp pang. He didn't care. Not about me. He never would again. It was chilling to see how easily he cast me aside.

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my lips. I turned to leave, the papers still in my hand.

"Wait!" Kendall called out, her voice suddenly strong, no trace of pain. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped package. It was a tube of cream. "Oh, and Audrey, Ethan asked me to get this for you. It's for your stretch marks. You know, from the baby. We want you to feel your best." She winked, a malicious glint in her eyes. "He said you really need it, especially with how... persistent they are."

My body stiffened. Shame, hot and prickly, spread across my skin, making my stretch marks burn. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms. The humiliation was a physical weight, pressing down on me.

Ethan took the cream from Kendall, his gaze cold as it met mine. "She's right," he said, his voice flat. He thrust the tube into my hand. "You should use this every day, Audrey. For your own good. It helps with the... the aftermath." His eyes flickered down to my stomach, a look of distinct distaste on his face.

It was a cold, calculated stab. The man I loved, the father of my child, was using my postpartum body, the very vessel that carried his son, as a weapon against me. It felt like he had just plunged a knife into my heart and twisted it.

Ethan and Kendall then linked arms, turning their backs on me, heading toward his private elevator. Just as the doors were about to close, I heard Kendall' s voice, clear and sharp.

"Are you sure that cream will work, Ethan? I read it has some pretty nasty side effects if used too often. Like, skin thinning, increased sensitivity… maybe even some scarring." She giggled.

Ethan' s laugh was equally cruel. "Oh, it'll work, Kendall. It'll work just fine. And if it doesn't, well, at least she'll remember who' s in charge. She needs a reminder of her place."

My legs gave out. I sank to the floor, the cream tube slipping from my numb fingers. It hit the polished marble with a dull thud. My head swam. My vision blurred. He had meant to hurt me. To actively, maliciously cause me pain. The man I had loved, the man I had married, was truly gone. Replaced by a monster.

Rage, cold and pure, surged through me. I picked up the tube of cream, my hand shaking with fury, and hurled it against the opposite wall. It exploded, a white splatter against the expensive wallpaper.

I somehow made it home, my body a leaden weight. By the time I collapsed onto my bed, a searing fever had set in. My head throbbed, my skin felt raw and inflamed.

The nanny, bless her heart, called Ethan immediately. "Mr. Blake, Mrs. Blake has a high fever. She' s not responding well."

I heard his clipped, impatient reply through the phone, even from my bed. "Just give her some Tylenol, Maria. She's probably just being dramatic. I'm busy. Don't call me again unless it's an emergency." He hung up.

My tears had run dry. There was nothing left but a vast, aching emptiness. I remembered one winter, years ago, when I' d gotten the flu. Ethan had stayed by my side, pressing cool cloths to my forehead, whispering reassurances, his touch a balm. Now, he couldn' t even be bothered.

The fever raged for three days, blurring the lines between reality and nightmare. On the third night, I felt a cool hand on my forehead. Ethan. I cracked open my eyes. He was there, his face etched with concern, his fingers gently massaging my temples.

A wave of relief, fleeting and dangerous, washed over me. Had he come back? Was it all a misunderstanding? My body, aching and exhausted, leaned into his touch.

Then, the cold, slimy sensation of the cream on my skin. He was rubbing it onto my stomach, his touch rougher than before. "Kendall found this special kind," he murmured, his voice dripping with an artificial sweetness. "She said it's much stronger. Will clear up those ugly marks right away."

His smile didn't reach his eyes. There was a cold, calculating glint there, a flash of something akin to disgust. He hated me. He truly hated me. My stomach churned.

I slapped his hand away, my strength surprising even myself. "Get out!" I rasped, my voice hoarse from fever.

His face hardened instantly. "Audrey, stop being childish," he said, his tone devoid of warmth. "Maria, get her dressed. She's coming with me to Kendall's celebration tonight."

Maria, the nanny, looked at me, her eyes wide with worry. "But sir, she's still very ill. She's barely conscious."

Ethan scoffed. "She'll be fine. And make sure she wears a mask. I don't want her infecting Kendall. Kendall has a very important presentation tomorrow." He then walked to the bathroom sink and scrubbed his hands raw, as if my touch had left him contaminated.

My body felt like lead, my mind clouded by fever. I was a puppet, limp and unresponsive. Maria helped me into a gown, her hands gentle. I was pushed into the back of Ethan's car, my head lolling against the seat.

We arrived at the glittering gala. The doors opened, and the first thing I heard was Kendall' s triumphant laugh, followed by the murmurs of the crowd.

Audrey POV:

The air in the ballroom was thick with the scent of lilies and expensive champagne. My head pounded. The gown Maria had dressed me in was a cruel joke. It was a slinky, form-fitting dress, the kind I used to wear before pregnancy. Now, it clung to every curve, highlighting my still-soft stomach, the faint stretch marks a painful roadmap across my skin.

The cream, that insidious cream Ethan had forced on me, made my skin itch and burn. It was a constant, agonizing reminder of his cruelty. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the discomfort away.

Whispers started. They zipped through the crowd like venomous darts. "Is that Audrey Fox? Goodness, she's let herself go." "Look at her next to Kendall. No comparison." "Poor Ethan, carrying that for so long."

The words sliced at me, each one a fresh wound. They compared me to Kendall, her taut, unblemished figure, her glowing perfection. They talked about Ethan, the "suffering" husband, the one who deserved better. The shame was a suffocating blanket, pressing me down, crushing the last vestiges of my dignity.

I tried to melt into the shadows, to escape the searing gaze of the crowd. But Ethan's hand, cold and firm, clamped around my arm. "Don't you dare," he hissed, his grip bruising. "You will stand here, Audrey. You will smile. This is Kendall's night, and you will play your part." His eyes were like chips of ice.

He paraded me around, a trophy of his betrayal, a living testament to his supposed magnanimity. I was the backdrop, the foil against which Kendall' s brilliance was meant to shine.

On the stage, under a spotlight, Ethan announced a massive gift for Kendall: a significant share in Blake Enterprises, making her a formidable player in the company. The crowd applauded wildly. Then, he presented her with a diamond necklace, a delicate piece of art that I had admired in a magazine just months ago, mentioning how much I loved its unique design. He had remembered. But not for me.

"Kendall and I," he announced, his voice booming with affection, "will share all our triumphs, all our successes. She is not just my colleague, but my partner in life, in ambition." He squeezed her hand, his eyes filled with an adoration that had once been mine.

He then looked at me, a cold, empty gaze. "Audrey," he said, his voice flat, "she runs the household. Kendall runs the company. Everyone has their place. And it works perfectly."

The whispers started again, louder now, laced with pity and thinly veiled contempt. Everyone knew. Everyone saw. I was a cuckolded wife, publicly humiliated, and discarded. My face felt bloodless, my hands clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms, the sharp pain a welcome distraction from the agony in my heart.

Ethan and Kendall drifted away, surrounded by fawning admirers. I slipped into a quiet alcove, needing to escape the suffocating air, the judgmental eyes. The fever, forgotten for a moment in the torrent of humiliation, surged back. My body ached, the burning itch of the cream intensifying. My head spun. I leaned against a cold wall, the darkness swallowing me whole.

I drifted in and out of consciousness. Through the haze, I heard Ethan's voice. Gentle. Concerned. He was there. He was wiping my forehead with a cool cloth. "Audrey," he murmured, "you're burning up."

My body instinctively leaned into his touch, seeking the comfort I so desperately craved. Just for a second, I imagined everything was alright. That he was still my Ethan.

Then, Kendall's voice, husky and breathy, broke the illusion. "Is she asleep?"

"Out cold," Ethan chuckled, his voice losing all traces of concern, replaced by a casual indifference. "Good. She won't know we're here." The rustling of clothes. A soft moan. The unmistakable sounds of intimacy. They were doing it. Right here. While I lay unconscious.

My blood turned to ice. My mind screamed. No! Wake up! Get up and hit them! But my limbs were heavy, unresponsive. My body was trapped in this agonizing limbo, forced to bear witness to the ultimate betrayal.

A short while later, I felt Ethan' s arms scoop me up. His touch, which had once been a source of safety, now felt invasive, disgusting. He carried me, my limp body a burden. "Ready to go home, darling?" he crooned, his voice light, filled with a sickening contentment.

The sweet, cloying scent of Kendall' s perfume clung to him, a tangible reminder of their act. My stomach churned. I pushed against his chest, a guttural sound escaping my lips. "No," I rasped, my voice barely a whisper. "Take me… take me to my parents' house. My home."

Ethan' s footsteps, which had been light and cheerful, faltered. He stopped dead.

Audrey POV:

Ethan' s footsteps stopped, a sudden, jarring halt. His face, which had been soft and content moments ago, hardened into a mask of displeasure. He looked down at me, his eyes narrowed. "What did you say, Audrey?" His voice was cold, clipped.

"My home," I repeated, a new strength in my voice. "Take me to my parents' house. I want to go home."

He squeezed me tighter, his grip painful. "Don't be ridiculous. This is your home. Our home. And what about our son? Who will take care of him if you run off to your parents'?" He tried to inject concern into his voice, but it sounded hollow, manipulative.

"I'm taking our son with me," I stated, my voice firm despite the weakness in my body.

His eyes flashed with something I couldn't quite decipher-panic? Anger? He didn't say another word, but his grip on me tightened even more. His pace quickened, carrying me swiftly towards the exit.

"Ethan! Where are you going?" Kendall' s voice, sharp and demanding, cut through the night. She was running after us. But he didn't even glance back. He just kept moving.

Suddenly, Kendall screamed, a piercing, theatrical sound. "Ethan! Watch out!" She darted into the busy street, directly into the path of an oncoming taxi.

Ethan, without a moment's hesitation, hurled me from his arms. My head slammed against the sharp edge of a stone planter, a searing pain exploding behind my eyes. Blood immediately gushed, warm and sticky, down my face. Before I could even register the pain, a speeding motorcycle, swerving to avoid Kendall, clipped me. I was sent flying, my body a ragdoll tossed through the air. A blinding flash of light, then searing pain in my leg.

Through the blurry, agonizing haze, I saw Ethan. He had caught Kendall. He held her tight in his arms, stroking her hair. "My love, are you hurt?" he murmured, his voice thick with concern. Kendall buried her face in his chest, sobbing melodramatically. "Oh, Ethan, I thought I was going to die! You saved me!"

He kissed her, a long, tender kiss, right there in the middle of the chaos he had created. He had thrown me away. Again. He had chosen her. Again.

The pain in my head, my leg, was eclipsed by the agony in my heart. My love for him, which had stubbornly clung to life, finally shriveled and died. It was a cold, hard death.

Darkness consumed me.

I woke up in a sterile white room, the rhythmic beeping of machines my only companion. I was in the ICU. Days had passed. My head throbbed, my right leg was encased in a heavy cast.

Ethan was slumped in a chair beside my bed, his head resting on his chest, feigning sleep. His face was pale, stubble darkening his jaw. He looked tired. A pang of something akin to pity, quickly suppressed, stirred within me.

I remembered him as a boy, so vibrant, so full of life. His eyes, always sparkling with mischief. Now, they were shadowed with something ugly, something I no longer recognized. His face, once so beautiful, now seemed distorted, almost monstrous.

A soft sob escaped my lips, a sound I hadn't intended to make. His head snapped up. He blinked, his eyes widening when he saw me. "Audrey! My God, you're awake!" He lunged forward, grabbing my hand. "Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?" His voice was frantic, laced with a performative concern.

"This is all your fault," he accused, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Your ridiculous demand to go to your parents' house. That's what caused this accident."

My heart, already dead, felt nothing but a cold void. He was blaming me. For his choice. For his betrayal.

"It was your mistress who caused it!" I choked out, my voice raw. "She threw herself into traffic!"

The mention of Kendall's name made his face snap shut. His eyes hardened. "Don't you dare speak about Kendall like that!" he spat, his voice laced with venom. "She was terrified! She's delicate! You're the one who's always so dramatic, so hysterical. She's been nothing but a sweetheart, a true professional. You need to learn from her, Audrey. She's graceful. You're just… a mess."

Tears streamed down my face, hot and furious. The injustice, the sheer audacity of his words, was suffocating.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, for God's sake, stop crying. Always crying. Kendall never cries. She handles her emotions. You should try it. Be like her. Dignified." He stood up, pacing the small room. "You know what? I'm going to release a statement. A public apology from you to Kendall. For accusing her, for being so… unkind."

My vision swam. My head throbbed. I couldn't breathe. My heart monitor shrieked, the red lights flashing wildly.

Ethan' s phone buzzed. He snatched it up, his face breaking into a wide smile. "Kendall, my love! Are you alright?" He walked out of the room, his voice fading as he spoke sweet nothings to her. "I'm coming. I'm on my way."

He left. I was alone. Again. The monitors shrieked louder. Nurses rushed in. The last thing I saw was the terrified faces of the medical staff before darkness consumed me once more. I was being rushed to the ER. No one was with me.