I dropped the call immediately, my hands shaking so hard I nearly flung the phone across the room. The sound still rang in my ears. I didn’t need to see her face to know who it was. Felicia.

While I was clutching my dead mother’s hand, Felicia was clutching my husband. While I drowned in condolences, they drowned in pleasure.

I carried my mother’s ashes myself. No one helped me. No one stood beside me. Not Victor, not a single person from his family. Alone, I lowered the urn into the ground, tears blinding me until I could no longer see the soil I shoveled with my own hands.

It felt like burying the last fragment of myself.

The stress of it all—the grief, the betrayal, the emptiness—broke me. My body collapsed under the weight, and I fainted right there at the graveside.

When I opened my eyes, I was back in the hospital. Again. Two days passed in that bed, and not once did Victor call. Not even a message. Not even a single word to ask if I was alive.

And yet, as I lay staring at the pale ceiling, my mind betrayed me, dragging me back into the past.

The first time I met Victor was when I fainted in class during high school. My anemia had acted up again, and before anyone else could react, Victor was there. He carried me to the clinic himself.

I remembered the way he held my hand as I lay on the cot, whispering, “You scared me, Katie. Don’t ever do that again. I’ll always take care of you, okay? Forever.”

It was the beginning of everything—our love, our promises, our dreams. He courted me with the kind of patience that turned heads, the golden boy of the school choosing me, the quiet girl who only had books and Felicia as her world.

And Felicia. God, how blind I had been. I let them be close. I told myself they were just friends. I defended them when people whispered behind my back. I thought I was lucky—my best friend and my lover getting along so well. I never realized it was betrayal. That they had been stabbing me in the back for years, wearing masks of loyalty while they devoured me piece by piece.

I blinked away my tears, anger bubbling beneath the surface, sharper than the grief that had nearly killed me. No more. I wouldn’t let them hurt me anymore.

I picked up the phone with trembling hands and called my lawyer.

“I want a divorce,” I said flatly.

There was a long pause. Then his voice, cautious. “A divorce? Katie, you know the prenup you signed. If you file, Victor can cut you off completely. No financial support. Nothing for your mother’s treatment. Nothing for—”

“My mother is dead,” I cut in, my voice cracking but firm. “And soon, I’ll be gone too. Just file it. I’ll make him sign.”

I ended the call before he could argue further. My chest rose and fell heavily as I shoved the phone aside.

That was when the notification chimed.

Victor’s email. He had forgotten to log out on my phone the other day. With a frown, I tapped it open, and my heart froze.

An ultrasound photo. A baby. Not mine. Not ours.

Attached was a ticket to the Persian Sea—the dream destination I had begged him for, for years. He always said it was too much trouble, a waste of time, that he was too busy. And yet here it was, tickets for two, hotel reservations, everything perfectly planned—For Felicia.

The screen blurred as my tears spilled faster than I could wipe them away. My chest caved in with a sob. How long had they been laughing at me behind my back?

I didn’t hear the door open until Victor’s voice filled the room. “Katie!”

I snapped my head toward him. He was panting, eyes wide, feigning panic. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know you were here, I just—”

I laughed bitterly, my voice raw. “You didn’t know I was here or you didn’t care to check what happened to me because you never loved me anymore?”

He froze, his face hardening before softening again with fake concern. “I’m sorry. Truly. And no, of course not. I love you. Please, don’t say that, I was just busy with business. This is for us. You’re weak, you shouldn’t stress yourself. Let’s… let’s just focus on your transplant, okay? That’s what matters now. Your health.”

I glared at him, bile rising in my throat. “Really? Or are you feeling guilty because you’re cheating on me?”

His eyes flickered, but he forced a smile. “Don’t talk nonsense. Why would I do that? Come on. Let me discharge you. We’ll go home. Together.”

Too tired to fight, I let him help me into the car. I stared out the window, the rain beginning to fall in soft sheets, my reflection a stranger’s face.

Then his phone rang.

He picked up immediately, and though he tried to keep his voice steady, I could hear everything.

“Victor,” a woman whimpered, breathless. “My tummy hurts. Please help me. I think something’s wrong with the baby.”

Felicia. I stiffened, every muscle in my body locking in place.

Victor slammed the brakes, pulling the car to the side of the road.

“Get out,” he said curtly.

My head snapped toward him. “What?”

“I need to go. Business. I can’t take you home right now. Take a taxi.”

“Victor, are you insane? It’s raining, I just got discharged—”

“GET OUT!” His voice cracked like a whip, his hand shoving at my arm.

I stumbled out, the door slamming shut behind me. My knees hit the gravel as the rain poured harder, drenching me instantly.

The taillights of his car blurred through my tears as he drove away, leaving me sprawled in the mud like discarded trash.

My arms wrapped around myself, shivering, my body weak.

Victor had once sworn to carry me forever. Now he couldn’t even spare me a ride home.

And there, in the downpour, I realized—I wasn’t his wife anymore. I was nothing.

When I opened my eyes, I was in my bed at the estate. For a moment, confusion clouded me.

The last thing I remembered was the rain pouring on me, my body weak and shivering, the ground cold beneath me as Victor’s car disappeared into the night.

“Madam, you should rest,” the maid said softly, adjusting the blanket over me.

I pushed myself up despite the heaviness in my chest. “How did I get here?” My voice trembled. “Who brought me home?”

For a foolish second, I thought maybe it had been Victor. Maybe guilt had finally gnawed at him enough to make him come back for me.

But the maid shook her head gently. “It wasn’t the master. A man—he said he was a stranger—he brought you here and left this number.”

She handed me a folded piece of paper. My fingers shook as I opened it and stared at the digits scrawled there.

A stranger. I dialed before I could think. The line clicked, and a familiar male voice answered, low and steady.

“Hello?”

“Who is this?” I asked, my throat dry. “Why did you help me?”

There was a pause. Then a voice I hadn’t heard in years. “Katie… it’s Nick.”

I froze, the breath sucked out of me. Nick. My childhood friend. My first safe place before everything in my life turned to ruin. And now—Victor’s rival.

Memories flooded in unbidden: summer afternoons, laughter under the trees, his hand always extended toward me whenever I stumbled. And then the bitter years that followed, when Victor entered my life, and everything between Nick and me fractured.

“Nick…” I whispered.

“I heard about what happened,” he said simply. His tone was steady, almost too calm, but I could hear the undercurrent of anger. Not at me, never at me but at Victor. “So tell me, Katie. What do you say about marrying me?”

If this had been any other day, I would have laughed, stammered, told him not to joke about such things. But today when my body ached, my soul was shattered, and my heart was nothing but ashes—his words didn’t feel like a joke. They felt like salvation.

“Fine,” I said, surprising even myself with the sharpness of my voice. “Pick me up after five days.”

And I hung up.

The silence of the room pressed against me. My hands curled into fists.

Five days. That was all I needed. Five days to bury the last of this wretched marriage.

I started packing my things that very night. The clothes, the books, the little pieces of myself I had hidden in corners of the estate.

With each fold, each bag sealed, it felt like I was reclaiming pieces of me Victor had stolen.

Then came the memories. Photographs. Gifts. The wedding album. His letters. I gathered them all and one by one, I fed them to the fire. I watched his smile curl into ashes, his promises turn to smoke.

When I picked up my wedding ring, my hands shook. It was the last chain. I clenched it so tightly it dug into my palm before I finally walked toward the trash bin.

The door burst open. Victor.

“What’s happening here?” His eyes darted to the half-packed luggage, to the faint smoke curling from the fireplace. Then his gaze fell on the ring in my hand.

“Nothing,” I said coldly. “I just want to throw it away.”

His face twisted. “Are you insane? That’s our wedding ring. Why would you throw it away?”

“Because I don’t want it anymore,” I snapped. “Let’s divorce, Victor.”

His eyes widened. “Divorce me? Are you insane? What—do you think I’d agree? Where would you go if you left me, huh? What about your mother? Your kidney transplant? You can’t leave without me. You’re bankrupt!”

“And whose fault is that?” I shot back, my voice breaking with rage. “Felicia! You promised me that you would help me find her but what’s happening now?!”

His jaw tightened, but he reached for me desperately. “I’m sorry, okay? Is this about me not going to the hospital? About missing our anniversary? Don’t—don’t be like this, Katie.” He softened his tone, his eyes pleading. “Come on. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Promises,” I whispered bitterly. “You’ve always been good at those.”

We were cut off by another voice.

“Are you fighting… because of me?”

Victor stiffened. My head turned sharply toward the door.

Felicia.

She stood there, her hands trembling, her face pale. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is wrong. I should have—”

I laughed bitterly, the sound cold even to my own ears. “You dare bring her here?” I looked at Victor, disgust rolling through me. “You dare bring your mistress into my house?”

Victor reached out helplessly. “Katie, she’s not my mistress. Like I said, I’d find her for you. She’s here to apologize, Katie—”

But I didn’t wait for her excuses. Rage boiled through me, spilling past the grief that had been rotting inside me for years. My hands shook as I lunged forward, slamming Felicia back with all the fury I had held in.

“You!” My voice cracked like thunder. “You ruined everything! My father killed himself because of you! My mother wasted away because of what you did! And now you stand here—begging? Crying?!”

Felicia stumbled, her back hitting the dresser. My hand swung before I could stop it, the slap ringing out sharp.

She gasped, stumbling further until her knee struck the corner of the bed. She crumpled down, clutching her side.

A sharp cry escaped her lips. “Victor!” Her hands trembled as she held her stomach, and when she pulled them away, I saw it—red smearing across her palms.

My breath froze.

Victor’s roar shook the walls. “Katie!” He rushed forward, catching Felicia as she collapsed into his arms, her sobs echoing. “She’s bleeding!”

He turned to me then, his eyes blazing with fury I’d never seen before. His hand shot out, shoving me backward so hard I stumbled into the polished floor with a painful crack.

“You dare harm a pregnant woman?!” His voice was venom. “Are you insane?! She’s carrying a child—and you’d attack her?!”

The damp air of the basement clung to my skin like rot. My stomach twisted with hunger, my throat dry, my veins aching from the dialysis I had missed.

My body was shutting down. I curled into myself on the cold floor, my arms hugging my knees, whispering nothing just to keep the silence from swallowing me whole.

Then footsteps. Voices above.

“Sir, please,” the maid pleaded. “Mrs. Katie hasn’t eaten in two days. She needs her dialysis. If this continues, she might die.”

But then came Victor’s voice. “I don’t care. She dares harm Felicia and her baby? When I brought Felicia here just to apologize, and she raised her hand against her? She’s evil. She deserves to rot in there!”

The maid tried again, voice trembling. “But sir, her treatment, if she misses—”

“I said enough!” Victor snapped. “No more treatment. No more kindness. Let her feel what it’s like to suffer. If she dies, so be it. She deserves every second of it. And make sure she never dares ask about her mother’s treatment again. She doesn’t deserve a family. Not after what she did.”

My body shook from the bitter laugh bubbling inside me. My mother. He still thought she was alive. He didn’t even know she was already gone, that I had begged the hospital to never let him be informed. He never cared. Not once.

Hours blurred. Maybe days. I lost count. My body gave out, and I fainted, the world dissolving into black.

When I stirred again, it wasn’t Victor’s voice I heard—it was Felicia’s.

“Please,” she whispered from the other side of the door. “Please let her out. She’ll die if she stays there.”

The click of keys. The creak of the lock. Light spilled in, and the maid’s hand gently shook me awake. I blinked up, dizzy, and saw Felicia standing there, her face wet with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her voice broke. “Katie, I’m sorry for everything. For the money. For running away. For Victor. For everything. I never wanted to hurt you like this.”

“I will never forgive you,” I rasped, my voice weak.

Felicia flinched, but Victor’s voice cut in, furious. “Are you insane, Katie? She’s apologizing! And if it weren’t for her, you’d still be rotting in there. You think you deserve pity after what you did to her baby?! She almost lost it.”

Felicia touched his arm gently, eyes still wet. “Victor… let’s just take her to the hospital. Please. She needs help.”

Victor drove me to the hospital in silence. Felicia sat beside him, her hand resting protectively over her stomach, and every so often he reached out to squeeze it reassuringly. Not once did he glance at me.

The nurses rushed me inside when they saw my condition, attaching IVs, checking my vitals, murmuring about how close I was to collapsing again. I barely registered their voices.

Hours later, I sat propped up in bed, my body patched together but my spirit still in pieces. The nurse had left the TV on low, the sound barely audible, but then a familiar voice made my blood freeze.

“…I only ran because I was afraid,” Felicia’s voice trembled from the screen. She sat at a press conference, eyes red, hands clutching tissues as flashes from cameras lit up her face. “Katie—she hated me after what I did with the money. She said she wanted me gone. She said if I ever came back, she would kill me. That’s why I couldn’t show my face. I was terrified. That’s the truth.”

The reporters murmured, their pens scratching. Felicia dabbed her eyes delicately, every motion calculated, perfect.

“And yet,” she whispered dramatically, “I still came back. Because I wanted to apologize. I know I’ve hurt her, but she’s still my best friend. I don’t want her destroyed because of me. I love her like a sister, despite everything. I’m willing to pay for everything.”

A bitter laugh scraped my throat. This is the last straw.

By evening, when the hospital finally discharged me, I braced myself to step outside. But the moment the doors slid open, chaos swallowed me.

“Mrs. Katie! Is it true you tried to attack Felicia?”

“Did you threaten her life and her baby?”

“Why can’t you forgive her after she admitted her mistakes?”

Microphones shoved into my face, cameras flashing mercilessly, the crowd chanting accusations. I raised my arms to shield myself, dizzy from the noise, the bright lights stabbing into my tired eyes.

And then, Felicia appeared.

“Please!” she cried, pushing through the reporters, her hand outstretched toward me. “Stop this! She’s my best friend, don’t attack her like this. She doesn’t deserve this.”

The crowd softened. Felicia threw her arms around me, shielding me with her body as though she were my savior, whispering, “It’s okay, Katie. I’ve got you.”

Back at the estate, she fussed over me endlessly. But I know it was a fake concern.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, following me into the room. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. Please, Katie… just forgive me. We can start over.”

“I don’t care anymore, Felicia,” I whispered. “I just want to leave.”

Her face crumpled. She reached for me, but I stepped back, my gaze cold.

And then suddenly her body doubled forward.

A sharp cry tore from her lips. “Ah, my stomach, it hurts—”

Blood stained the hem of her dress, dark and spreading fast.

Victor’s voice thundered from behind me as he rushed inside. “Felicia!” He caught her as she collapsed into his arms, her face pale, her body trembling.

Her voice was weak, but still laced with guilt. “I—I think I’m losing the baby…”