“It doesn’t matter. The child’s father is dead.”

I shut the door before she could respond, unwilling to explain further.

Orion had mentioned just days ago that he would personally review the crib’s design. I doubted he had the time or the inclination now. Besides, I didn’t want Orion’s child anymore. What use did I have for that crib?

Maybe it was the rain, or perhaps my exhaustion, but my body felt like it was being dragged into a fiery purgatory. Sweat clung to my forehead, mingling with the rain, leaving me in a haze of heat and discomfort.

A loud noise startled me awake. When I opened my eyes, Orion was there. He had broken the door, unable to reach me by phone and too impatient to wait.

“Orion, pour me a glass of water,” I whispered, my throat parched.

He brought the water, but as I reached for it, the glass tipped, and the cold liquid splashed across my face.

“Lucinda,” he snapped, his voice sharp with anger. “I asked you to book the hotel and place the orders, but here you are, lying around sleeping?”

He towered over me, his face twisted in frustration. “Marigold and my classmates are already there. They have nowhere to stay. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me?”

I stared at him, my heart sinking. Was this the same man who had once vowed to love and protect me for a lifetime?

He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me lightly. “What are you sulking about now? Is it because I asked you to go back on your own? You’ve done it before when I was busy with other social obligations.”

His words were relentless, cutting deeper with every syllable.

“I really don’t understand what you’re trying to do, Lucinda. I think you’re just trying to make your presence known because Marigold is back.”

I laughed, the sound dry and hollow. So, he knew exactly what I cared about all along.

Orion had taken my tolerance for granted all these years.

“Orion, if you feel so embarrassed, let’s just get a divorce,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.

He froze for a moment, then forced a laugh and softened his tone. Grabbing a few tissues, he began dabbing at my face. “Okay, okay, I overreacted. You know how I get when I’m anxious about these reunions.”

His words dripped with feigned affection. “Just wait a bit, and I’ll take you on a trip. How about that?”

I didn’t respond. I was too tired to argue, too weary to pull apart his mask of pretense.

We both knew the truth—I just hadn’t wanted to admit it until now. Everyone said the same thing: If Marigold hadn’t gone abroad, how could it have been my turn to marry Orion?

Back then, I had ignored my family’s objections, throwing myself headfirst into a marriage I thought would last forever. I stood by him, helped him build his company, and watched as he secured his place in Westbrook

From the outside, I was the enviable wife of a successful man—a president, no less. Orion had no known scandals, no whispers of other women. But I knew better. I knew exactly who he had been saving himself for.

He reached for my hand when I stayed silent, pulling me up. “Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting. If you don’t show up, Marigold might overthink it.”

Ignoring my resistance, he dragged me to the hotel.

When we arrived, he pushed open the box door. Laughter and conversation spilled out, but my focus immediately landed on the woman sitting in the main seat—Marigold.

It was the first time I had ever looked at her properly. She was just as stunning as her photos, her beauty amplified by a striking red dress that clung to her figure. My heart skipped a beat.

No wonder Orion always said I looked good in red. The realization clawed at me, making the pale red nightgown I wore feel utterly absurd.

Orion’s old classmate, Thaddeus, smirked and teased, “Mr. Steele, what’s going on? Are you so tight on money that your wife can’t afford a decent dress?”

The room erupted in laughter.

Orion turned to glance at me, and for a moment, I thought I might see guilt in his eyes. But there was none—just a flicker of disgust, fleeting yet unmistakable.

“She’s a housewife and pregnant. It doesn’t matter what she wears. It’s just... like that.”

The laughter grew louder, echoing in my ears.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. With a forced calm, I reached for Orion’s arm. “Honey,” I said, my tone serious, “can we step outside for a moment? I need to talk to you about the baby.”

Orion leaned in, his voice a low murmur in my ear. “Everyone is watching us. Don’t make a scene. If you have something to say, we’ll talk at home.”

The forced calm in his tone made my chest tighten, but I bit back my response.

“Alright, alright,” Marigold’s voice cut through the awkward silence. “Which one of you didn’t give birth to a baby while pregnant? Let’s stop the jokes now.”

Her sharp reprimand silenced the room, drawing attention back to her as she reached into a gift bag. With a practiced smile, she pulled out a dress and extended it toward me.

“Lucinda, this is our first time meeting. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I picked a dress for you.” She paused, holding it up against me with a slight frown. “Oh no, I forgot you’re pregnant. I must’ve picked something too small. My apologies.”

Her feigned remorse churned my stomach, but I managed a tight smile. “Miss Ashford, how thoughtful of you.”

I didn’t make a move to take the dress. Orion stepped in immediately, grabbing it for me. “Of course, we appreciate it,” he said quickly.

Marigold’s fingers toyed with the necklace around her neck—a delicate piece I once thought was meant for me. My heart clenched as she smiled coyly. “Orion, you’re too kind. You knew I was coming back and prepared this necklace as a gift for me. Using Lucinda’s name, though? That’s quite clever.”

My fingers curled into my skirt. The necklace had been in a box on my dresser for weeks. I’d admired it, thinking Orion had chosen it for me. Now it gleamed mockingly against her skin.

Orion’s face reddened as he awkwardly slid into the main seat. Before I could process the humiliation, Marigold settled beside him, her movements deliberate.

“Lucinda,” she said sweetly, “that seat faces the air conditioner. You should sit over there—it’s better for you.”

Her words carried a double meaning that stung sharper than any insult. Even if I were oblivious, her intent was clear.

The others chimed in, their voices light but dripping with subtext:

“Our school beauty is still so gentle and considerate.”

“Marigold, there must have been so many guys chasing you abroad!”

“Too bad for Orion—he had no chance back then!”

Orion appeared to focus on picking up food, but I knew him too well. He was hanging on every word.

Marigold smiled at their teasing, her eyes sparkling with feigned modesty. “Of course, but it’s a shame—I already had someone in my heart.”

She glanced at Orion, her gaze lingering. The sweetness in her expression was unbearable.

Then, almost casually, she plucked a shrimp from the platter and placed it in her bowl, pausing for dramatic effect.

“Marigold,” Orion said immediately, his tone filled with concern, “you’re allergic to shrimp.”

Her eyes lit up with delight. “Oh, Orion, after all these years, you still remember?”

The room erupted in laughter again, the sound grating against my ears. My stomach twisted painfully as I glanced at Orion.

Seeing my hand resting on my stomach, Orion seemed to realize something. His expression softened as he asked, “What’s wrong? Is my son not feeling well?”

I smiled faintly, masking the bitterness rising in my chest. “Why, don’t you like the idea of having a daughter instead?”

“How could that be? I’ll love our child, boy or girl,” he said, his tone overly sweet as he placed food on my plate.

When he mentioned the baby, his demeanor shifted. His voice lowered, and he began whispering his usual string of affectionate words, the kind he used to smooth things over. Once, they might have comforted me. Now, they felt hollow.

Feigning illness, I excused myself from the ridiculous dinner, leaving behind the laughter and stolen glances.

Marigold, always the picture of concern, insisted on coming home with us. Orion, caught between us, had no choice but to cut the evening short and drive us back.

When we reached the car, Marigold was already settled comfortably in the passenger seat. She turned with an apologetic smile.

“Lucinda, I’m sorry. My stomach feels a little off. You don’t mind me sitting up front, do you?”

Her words dripped with false modesty.

“Whatever you want,” I replied, stepping into the back seat.

She was trying to provoke me, I knew that much. And perhaps yesterday, I might have fallen for it, letting anger flare. But today? Today, I didn’t care. I didn’t care for this petty game, nor for the man at the center of it.

“I told you she wouldn’t mind,” Marigold said brightly, turning toward Orion. “She’s always been so generous.”

Their laughter filled the car as they reminisced about their past—memories that didn’t include me.

I sat in silence, an outsider in my own life.

From the back seat, I caught Orion’s gaze in the rearview mirror. His eyes sparkled with warmth—directed entirely at Marigold’s smile. It was as though he had forgotten I was there, his wife, mere inches away.

I shifted my gaze out the window, feeling the cold distance stretched wider between us with each passing moment.

When we finally arrived, Marigold turned to me with a saccharine smile. “Lucinda, let me add your contact info. I’ve just returned, and I’d hate to bother Orion too much. If there’s anything I need, I’ll reach out to you first.”

She attacked me bit by bit, each word and gestured another jab, but unfortunately, I no longer had the strength to fight back.

When I finally got home, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I turned to him, my voice flat but sharp. “Orion, do you still have Marigold in your heart?”

His response was quick, defensive. “How could that be? It happened so long ago.”

I stared at him, my pulse steady but my heart heavy. “You can’t keep accusing me like this. Don’t make things difficult for me, or we won’t even be friends anymore.”

He flinched as if I had struck him, his usual calm demeanor cracking.

“Then why are you so worked up?” His hands spread in mock innocence. “I didn’t do anything wrong. You were the one who started this as soon as you got back. Fine, since you're pregnant, I won’t argue anymore.”

But the words felt like empty air to me. This wasn’t about the pregnancy. It was about everything else that had been building up.

I opened my mouth to speak, to say what I’d been holding back, but before I could, my words were drowned out by the ringing of his phone.

A woman’s frantic voice came through the speaker. “Orion! Someone’s following me downstairs! I’m scared, can you call the police?”

His expression immediately shifted from defensive to concerned. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there right away.”

Without a second thought, he grabbed his coat and dashed out the door, leaving me behind once more.

In the days that followed, it became a pattern. Every time Orion came home, a phone call from Marigold would pull him away. Whether it was changing light bulbs, looking for her cat, or some work-related matter, he was always gone before I could even try to speak to him.

Until one evening, after yet another phone call, Marigold finally couldn’t hold back. She sent me a message, her words dripping with uncertainty:

[Lucinda, what should I do? Orion seems to still have me in his heart.]

I smiled, the bitterness curling in my chest. I didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence hang for a moment longer. Then, with a calm I didn’t feel, I typed back:

[That’s great. As long as you can get him to sign the divorce agreement, you’ll be Mrs. Steele in the future.]

Recently, I’d heard that Marigold had become too busy, and Orion had been staying home for longer stretches. That evening, he went all out and personally cooked a whole table of dishes I didn’t even like, all to coax me into eating.

“Honey,” he said softly, setting the plate down in front of me. “Now that the months are advancing, you need to keep up your nutrition. If you’re not feeling well, I’ll hire a nanny. I might be busy during this time and won’t be able to take care of you like this every day.”

I looked at him, but my heart felt heavy. “It doesn’t matter,” I replied, my voice flat, “You don’t need to take care of me in the future.”

I wasn’t just speaking to him; I was speaking to myself.

He pulled me into his arms then, his hand sliding over my belly. “Why? Are you still upset? You’re my first wife. If I didn’t love you, why would I have married you?”

The words were smooth, practiced—a half-truth wrapped in a lie. It was the kind of thing Orion was best at.

I pushed him away slightly, my frustration bubbling over. “Is this all just to fool your mother? Does it even matter who the child’s father is?” I snapped.

At the beginning, when Marigold went abroad, I was adamant that the two of them had no further contact. My mother-in-law was always fond of me, and Orion had married me because of her approval.

Orion chuckled lightly, trying to brush it off. “What are you talking about? My mom and I are both looking forward to the baby’s arrival.”

But he didn’t finish, because his phone began vibrating again.

Guilty, he glanced at the screen before quickly slipping it into his pocket.

“Orion, can you just stay for once?” I asked, my voice faltering as I tried to hold on to him.

He rushed into the bedroom, pulling on his coat. “I’ve got an emergency at the company. I have to leave now. I probably won’t be back tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and I sat there in the silence, the weight of his absence pressing down on me. I stood up, pulling open the closet doors, grabbing the photo albums, the keychain, the pillow with his initials printed on it—the small things that once meant so much.

I hovered over them for a long moment, before finally throwing everything into the trash can, one item at a time. What I had once cherished now felt like shards of glass piercing my heart.

In a daze, I scrolled through my phone, searching for a number I hadn’t dialed in ages. I found it. Without thinking, I called.

The phone rang, and when it connected, I couldn’t speak. My throat tightened, and all I could do was cry.

The voice on the other end was soft, almost a whisper, “Don’t cry, Lucinda. Mom will be there soon. Everything will be alright once Mom is there.”

That night, Orion didn’t come home.

Instead, I received a few photos from Marigold. Orion was slightly drunk, slumped on a couch in her house. His eyes were unfocused, and the background was unmistakably hers.

[Lucinda, thank you so much for taking care of Orion all this time.]