The Other Woman

[JEANNE’S POV]

I sigh, recalling how Hector and I ended up in this mess. It leaves me confused—I don’t know how to fix it.

Edgar hasn’t spoken to me in two days. He hasn’t even come back. Instead, he’s tightened security, placing a guard right outside my secret passage so I can’t leave without him knowing. I’m completely locked in. Is this a punishment? Or does he simply not want me to see Hector again? Is he jealous? Does he care? I don’t know. It all confuses me, but I can’t ask—Edgar won’t even see me.

I should apologize properly. I should have left Hector out of it and handled my problems with Edgar directly. I should have told him about my pregnancy that night. Maybe we would have made up, even if he still left. Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up helping Hector.

Lost in thought, I hear my door open. My heart jumps—I think it’s Edgar. But when I see who it is, I press my lips together and swallow my disappointment.

“Long time no see, daughter-in-law. How are you?”

“You came, Mother.”

I greet Edgar’s mother with a forced smile. I don’t resent her visit, but I wish she hadn’t come—her face only reminds me of the things she says behind my back.

“I came for Edgar, but I only found out he wasn’t here when I was already at the door. So I thought, why not just come in? It’s a long way from home.”

Of course. She didn’t come for me.

“Would you like some tea? Or something cold?”

“Just water.”

She sits on the sofa without waiting for permission—she never does. To her, anything that belongs to Edgar is hers, too. I lower my gaze, my pride shrinking beneath her presence.

“Two days ago, Edgar called me dozens of times, but I missed them—I was busy,” she says, sipping her water. “When I finally spoke to him, he was looking for you. He asked if you had come to my house. And I said, ‘Are you serious?’ Haha.”

I stay silent. She’s patronizing me, but I don’t react.

“I wouldn’t say that to my Edgar, though—not when he’s confused and desperately searching for his wife. But tell me, Jeanne…” She looks straight at me. “Didn’t Edgar set a rule for you to report where you go and who you go with?”

“I… I went with…”

“You know that the attack on you was a tragedy Edgar despises. That incident took something from him—he lost his baby, and with it, the hope of ever having another.”

I clench my fists, my blood simmering at the mention of it.

“Edgar is a little overprotective, yes. But it’s for your safety. You should understand that.”

“I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll be more mindful of such things.”

“You should be.”

I answer obediently. I still respect her. She is Edgar’s mother, the woman who once loved me like her own daughter.

“Edgar tells me he’s been very busy lately. The gang attacks are escalating, and he’s leading his troops to handle them. Right now, they’re watching over the city bank—there’s a threat of an attack.”

I listen in silence as she continues.

“He also told me about the people on his team. Not all cops earn his trust, but do you know a female officer who passed his standards and made it onto his team?"

My throat tightens. Of course, I know exactly who she’s talking about.

“Hellena Trouve?”

“Yes! You know her name? Everyone does. She’s talented, strong, and… beautiful. I know it’s a silly obsession, but if I had a daughter who became a cop like Edgar, she’d probably be as charismatic as Miss Hellena Trouve.”

I remember when she used to say things like that to me—sweet words, the way she once wished for a daughter like me. Was it all just meaningless talk?

“It’s a pity Hellena belongs to someone else. And I can’t have children anymore—not at my age. I don’t even look like I should have a daughter, do I? Maybe a granddaughter instead. Haha.”

The more she speaks, the clearer her intent becomes. I could end this conversation right now—I should—but I’m already exhausted.

“What exactly are you trying to say, Mother?”

Her laughter stops. Her face turns cold, but her smile lingers.

“Jeanne, have you ever considered having a surrogate?”

The question slices through me like a blade, but I force myself to stay composed.

“I believe the doctor said the attack weakened your uterus, but not your ovaries, correct? Instead of risking your life to give Edgar a child, why not use a surrogate? I’ve already discussed it with Edgar. He said he’d think about it.”

I can’t hold it in anymore. Tears spill down my cheeks, my lips aching as I bite down hard. But she keeps talking as if she doesn’t see—doesn’t care.

“I just feel sorry for Edgar. He’s almost 40, and with how busy he is, he doesn’t have much time left to be a father. He really wants a child—whether for himself or to make me happy because he knows he’s my only son, and—”

“You just want an heir, don’t you?” I cut her off sharply.

She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you just ask if I’d allow my husband to marry someone else? Or were you going to ask permission to marry Edgar to Hellena Trouve?”

“Hey, hey, why are you raising your voice? Did I say something wrong?”

“Mrs. Lea, I want a child. I want to give birth to your grandchild. But why does it feel like everyone in this world is punishing me for something I never wanted? I didn’t choose to miscarry.”

“The whole world is against you? Or are you just being too sensitive, Jeanne?”

“I am sensitive! I lost my son before I could even hold him! So stop talking about it! Stop treating me like I’m broken. I never asked for any of this! You and everyone else keep blaming me—Edgar won’t even talk to me when all I need is for someone to tell me I’ll be okay. I didn’t get to give birth to him, but he lived inside me. I felt his heartbeat. I have the right to grieve him the most! But you all stay away from me, as if I’m the one guilty of killing Edgar De Villiers’ child! Do I deserve this?!”

I don’t care if she’s angry, or shocked by my outburst. I can’t hold it in anymore.

“Just tell me! Do you want Edgar to have a child with another woman? With Hellena Trouve? They’d be a perfect match, wouldn’t they? Meanwhile, I’m just a defect, something to be cut out of your son’s perfect life! I even asked Edgar if he still loves me—I need to know the truth! I’m tired of living like this, of being alone! You once loved me like a daughter, but after my son died—after my parents died—you changed. Do I mean nothing without Edgar’s child? Without my parents’ rank?”

She smirks. “You finally realized that?”

I freeze.

“Jeanne, do you really think you can ever reach the heights your parents once did? The great Gaston Blanchard’s family—his daughter, who never even proved herself in the medical field.”

Her words silence me, their sharpness cutting deeper than I thought possible.

“Did you think I let you marry Edgar because I wanted him to be known as ‘Gaston Blanchard’s student and son-in-law’? How ridiculous. I allowed it because I wanted my son to carry on your family’s name—one that had already lost its honor. At least as Edgar De Villiers’ wife, you had some worth. But even that’s slipping away, isn’t it? A wife who can’t provide an heir—isn’t that just pathetic?”

She leans back, watching me with satisfaction.

“Oh, and about Hellena Trouve?” She smirks. “People wouldn’t even know her name if I hadn’t put her in the right place.”

"What do you mean?" My voice trembles, struggling to contain the searing pain in my chest.

"An intelligent, brave woman from a respectable family, blessed with pure beauty—isn't she the perfect match for Edgar? I've carefully positioned her at every opportunity. With my late husband's influence in the police force, ensuring Hellena ended up under Edgar's supervision was effortless. And now, I've placed them on the same team, hoping that shared tension will kindle their love and make Edgar realize—he should have met Hellena first, not fallen for you."

Shock slams into me like a tidal wave. After Mrs. Lea leaves, I collapse, hugging myself as if I might shatter from the pain. I never imagined such cruelty—against me, against the marriage I once believed would be perfect. I love Edgar with everything in me, and I swear to God, I won’t accept another woman in his life, even if I’m not the perfect wife for him.

"I can't. I won't let this happen."

With the last of my strength, I spring to my feet, rushing to the garage and into the car I haven’t touched in ages. Speeding away, I ignore the guards—they can't stop me. I take the fastest route to the city bank.

I arrive in no time. Police cars are parked near the grand downtown bank, a hub for endless transactions, always bustling. Despite the armed officers in bulletproof vests, everything seems normal. But I don’t care. I sprint inside, desperate to find Edgar—until a hand on my shoulder makes me freeze.

"Mrs. Villiers?"

I turn—and my breath catches. Hellena Trouve. She watches me like she sees straight into my worst fear. I can’t speak.

"Are you looking for Captain Edgar?"

Before I can answer, a voice shouts from outside.

"The target is inside! The man with white hair and a bank clerk uniform!"

Edgar.

I whirl around and see him moving through the crowd—then stopping dead when our eyes meet.

"Jeanne...?"

"Edgar..."

I am about to say something to him but I bumped into an employee with white hair.

"So, you're the captain’s wife?"

The voice belongs to the man I just bumped into—the one with white hair and a bank employee’s uniform.

"JEANNE, GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Edgar’s scream cuts through the chaos, but I stand frozen, too dazed to move.

The man strips off his jacket—revealing a vest lined with explosives, and then—

BOOM!