"Congratulations, ma'am." I forced a smile as another camera flash went off in my eyes. My cheeks ached from holding the expression, but I stayed silent, knowing better than to let my true feelings show.
"Happy one-year anniversary again, babe." My husband, Jeff, murmured beside me. His arm was wrapped around my waist in a gesture that might have looked affectionate to onlookers but felt more like a shackle to me.
"Thank you, love," I responded with another hollow smile, leaning into a brief and forced kiss.
Everyone thought my life was perfect. I was married to the most powerful man in New York, many women envied my so-called fairytale existence. But if only they knew the truth. If only they knew how every day felt like walking on broken glass, waiting for the next cut.
“Let’s go and sit down. I know your feet must be hurting from standing so long.” Jeff's voice was smooth, almost gentle, but I knew better than to trust the softness. I nodded in response, and we descended from the podium, his arm still possessively wrapped around me.
As we made our way back to our table, Jeff’s grip tightened around my waist. I felt like I was being steered like a puppet being controlled by its owner. The warmth in the room felt suffocating, and the chatter around us buzzed in my ears like an irritating hum.
"Mr and Mrs Anderson, it's almost time for the congratulatory toast. Your wine will be brought to the table shortly." Sam said, approaching us.
Sam was not only Jeff’s PA but also a close friend, my only friend in this carefully constructed prison I had been put in.
"Thank you, Sam," I replied softly, "but I'll have to decline the wine. Water will be fine for me." I saw his eyes immediately flicker with concern.
“Are you alright, Mrs. Anderson?” Sam asked, his voice gentle, full of worry.
“And what gives you the audacity to ask her that?” Jeff’s voice cut through the air like a blade, cold and sharp, “In my presence, no less?”
A few heads turned in our direction and I could feel the tension thickening. My heart raced, knowing how quickly things could spiral out of control.
“It’s alright Jeff,” I said quickly, trying to defuse the situation, “And Sam, thank you, I’m fine.” I shot Sam a look, silently begging him to drop it. Jeff would never show such concern, he thrived on control and intimidation, not empathy.
The rest of the evening dragged on without any further incident, though I longed for it to end.
Jeff had sprung the party on me without warning, storming into the house earlier and demanding I get ready. There was no room for argument, I had slipped on the first dress I found and plastered a smile on my face for the evening's performance.
The drive back to the house was filled with silence but I knew better, I knew Jeff was angry. I wondered what I had done wrong again this evening? I guess I will find out in a few minutes.
Back in the bedroom, Jeff’s simmering anger finally erupted, “You couldn’t find a better dress to wear? That’s the same one you wore to the company gala months ago.” He shouted, his voice dripping with disdain.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, shrinking into a corner, “I didn’t have much time to get ready,I just grabbed the first dress I saw.”
“You're a fool, an absolute fool Emma,” he snarled, his words hitting me like a physical blow, “Do you not understand that everything you do reflects on me? Including your pathetic wardrobe choices?”
I stood there, frozen, my mind screaming at me to do something, say something, but I knew better. I knew any resistance would only provoke him further. I waited, holding my breath until he was done.
“I’m sorry, I…” I began, but I couldn't complete my sentence because I suddenly started to feel queasy and I dashed to the bathroom, barely making it in time before the contents of my empty stomach came rushing up.
I leaned over the porcelain bowl as my body convulsed with heaves. After several minutes of dry heaving and trembling, I sat back against the cool tile wall, sweating and exhausted.
I could hear Jeff’s voice still railing at me from the bedroom, but it was like a distant roar, drowned out by the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my heart. As I leaned back against the cold tile, a strange thought crossed my mind, what if I was pregnant?
My period was late but I had been so stressed lately so I just assumed the stress had delayed it. Still, the nausea earlier this morning and now this vomiting seemed like it could be a sign.
I had been feeling off for the past few days but figured it was just a stomach bug. Unfortunately, the nausea hadn't subsided and seemed to be getting worse.
I pulled myself up using the sink as support and looked at my face in the mirror, I looked pale, almost ghostly, with dark shadows etched under my eyes. Could it be possible? As the thought lingered, my anxiety grew, I needed to know for sure.
I rinsed my mouth and reached for the box from one of the cabinets, I hastily opened the box, aware that Jeff could barge in anytime and read the instructions.
I followed the steps carefully, my heart racing. After waiting the required few minutes, I braced myself and peeked at the small window. There, in the little viewing area, was a small pink plus sign.
Positive.
I was pregnant.
I felt my knees go weak and I slid down the wall to sit on the tile floor, tears filling my eyes, and a million thoughts raced through my head.
How could this be happening? We had been so careful, what were we going to do? How would we afford a baby in our current situation? My breath quickened as panic set in.
A sudden banging on the door jolted me out of my spiral. “Open up, you fool! What are you doing in there?” Jeff’s voice was thick with irritation.
I scrambled to my feet, wiped my eyes, and opened the door. His eyes were narrowed with suspicion, “Did you hide another man in here? Or is this where you plan to sleep?”
“No, Jeff,” I stammered, “I’m sorry I took so long. I was just...removing my makeup.” Glad I came up with a somewhat believable explanation.
“Whatever,” he snapped, shoving past me, “Get out of my way.”
I slipped past him, my mind whirling with a thousand thoughts. I crawled into bed, feeling utterly lost. I had to do something, but what? I grabbed my phone and sent a text to the one person who might understand.
The next morning, I slipped out of the house before Jeff awoke. I needed to think, to figure out my next move. My text had not gone unanswered, Sam had replied, asking to meet at our safe place, it was located at a small, secluded cabin on the outskirts of town.
When I arrived, I saw him standing outside, his face etched with worry. The moment I stepped out of the car, I ran into his arms.
“Are you okay? I was so worried about you, your text last night scared me. I wanted to call, but I couldn’t risk it.” He said, holding me tightly.
“I’m fine, but something has happened, Sam,” I whispered, pulling back to look into his eyes.
“What is it?”
“I’m pregnant,” I said, watching as shock washed over his face.
“For me?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Yes.” I nodded, tears spilling over. He pulled me into a hug, his warmth enveloping me, a stark contrast to Jeff’s coldness.
“I’m going to be a father,” he breathed, his voice filled with awe, “I love you, Emma. Thank you for giving me this gift.”
“But I’m scared, Sam,” I confessed, my voice trembling.
“Scared of what?”
“Of Jeff,” I replied, “He’ll know the baby isn’t his. What do I do then?”
Sam’s face hardened with resolve, “We have to run away.”
“What?” I gasped. “I can’t do that, I can’t leave everything behind, my family, my life.”
“We don’t have a choice, Emma. If Jeff finds out, it will be the end for both of us, you know that as well as I do.”
His words hit me like a bucket of ice water. He was right. There was no other way. I had to choose, to stay and face Jeff’s wrath or run and start a new life with Sam.
“Okay,” I finally said, my voice barely a whisper, “Let’s do it. But I need to go back and get some things, and I have to see my parents first.”
Sam nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. We parted with a promise to meet again that evening. I went to my parents’ house, trying to savor what might be my last moments with them.
When I returned home, I found it empty. Jeff must have left for work, relief washed over me. I quickly packed a small bag, my hands shaking as I threw in the essentials. Once ready, I headed back to the cabin.
But when I arrived, something was off, the place was eerily quiet. “Sam?” I called, stepping inside, no answer. I searched the small space until I found him in the bedroom, staring out the window.
I moved towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist, “I’ve been calling you,” I murmured, “Everything’s ready, but I forgot to ask where we’re going.”
A voice, cold as ice, cut through the silence, “So this is where you two come to screw around.”
I recoiled, the words hitting me like a slap. I turned, and my heart dropped, Jeff was standing in the doorway, a look of cold fury on his face.
“Jeff...” I breathed my voice barely a whisper.
“How?” I stammered, my mind reeling, “How did you know?”
Jeff’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “You’re not as clever as you think, Emma. I had my suspicions, but this confirmed it.” He held up his phone, showing the picture of my positive pregnancy test.
“So, you’re carrying his baby and planning to run away?” His voice was deceptively calm, but his eyes blazed with anger, I was terrified and I didn't know what Jeff was going to do me.
“You ungrateful bitch!” He yelled the same time I felt something hard land on my face.
He slapped me.
“You know what, I'll give you what you want, leave and never come back here again.” He said and threw some papers at me, when I looked up at the papers, I saw they were divorce papers.
I signed them and he looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes before turning around to leave me in the empty house.
I think I had just ruined my life.
