chapter 2

Evelyn's pov

“You're pregnant.”

The second the doctor said those words, a wave of joy washed over me.

My hand drifted to my stomach. “I'm pregnant?”

“Yes, you are.” He beamed.

The thought of life growing inside me filled with hope. I broke into a laugh and leaned back in the reclining bed. Finally, I would be happy.

Why?

Micheal always wanted an heir. This baby was our answer – our fresh start. He or she was our chance to fix what was broken between us.

“I have to head home. I have to tell my husband the good news.” I said, rising from the bed.

“Oh no. You need bed rest for at least another 24 hours, Mrs. Sullivan. You are still hurt.” The doctor said with a worried look etched on his face.

“No.” Ignoring the protests of both the doctor and my aching limbs, I checked out of the hospital and hailed a cab.

My heart raced in my chest when I reached home. I made way for the mansion ahead, clutching the pregnancy test I had brought from a pharmacy on the way. My legs throbbed with each step but I ignored the pain. Coming here was worth the pain. Oh Micheal, he would be so happy. We'll finally be happy.

I stepped foot into the mansion only to be met by unnerving silence.

Where was everyone?

The lights in the living room were dim but usual music radiated through the air.

My pulse quickened. What was going on?

“Micheal?” I called out. There was no response.

“Micheal?” I called out again, my voice and body trembling.

I followed the sound which was coming from upstairs. It got louder with each step. What was going on?

Stepping into the hallway, I froze. The golden lights were replaced with the soft glow of candlelights and the floor adorned with rose petals and shoes. Shoes?

My eyes fell on a door held ajar.

Wetting my bottom lip, I inched towards the door.

I clutched the door knob, my heart beating loudly in my chest. I exhaled the shaky breath trapped in my throat and pushed the door in.

And there they were.

Micheal leaning against the headboard, his chest bare. Cassie lying beside him on the bed, her hand resting on his chest. He leaned in and nuzzled his face in her hair and she laughed. What did I just walk into?

Cassie's blue eyes flickered to mine and I blinked. The knot in my stomach tightened and I felt like throwing up. My hand went to clutch the pregnancy test in my dress pocket as if it would stop me from passing out.

Cassie muttered something to Micheal and he looked up.

I expected a shocked reaction from him but his face hardened instantly.

“What do you think you're doing here!” he thundered.

My throat felt dry. “I… I… came to tell you… something.”

“Why? I thought you ran away.” He grinned, wrapping his arm around Cassie's bare shoulders.

The sight of them made my stomach queasy. “I’m back now, Micheal, I have something important to tell you.”

A hiss tore through the room. “Can't it wait? I'm busy.”

Cassie smiled, her cold glare over my disheveled appearance. “Babe, why does she look like that?”

Micheal gave me a look-over and laughed. “She looks like she's been through something.”

My chest tightened. None of them cared to ask what happened to me. What if…

“Hey! Make yourself useful and get us some drinks.” Micheal said, not looking at me.

A soft exhale escaped my lips and I felt tired standing with my wobbling legs but I forced some courage into my spine. “No. Micheal, I need to talk to you. I have to talk to you.”

Micheal's eyes met mine. “Don't make me repeat myself, Evelyn. You know what happens when I do.”

Of course, I do. How could I ever forget?

Cassie turned to me. “Evelyn, Drinks. Now.”

I froze.

“You heard her. Go get them now!” Micheal roared.

“Okay.”

My body trembled as I made my way to the kitchen, humiliation pressing down on me with every step.

I reached for two wine glasses and set them on a tray. I limped to the wine bar and got out a bottle of wine. It was French – Micheal's favourite. I arranged them all on the tray and was ready to leave. Before I could, my eyes fell on a familiar reflection. I leaned closer to the polished surface of the glass and saw it — a bruised, exhausted face. My bruised, exhausted face.

What am I even doing?

I returned to our bedroom and placed the tray on the bedside table.

“Pour it.” Micheal didn't look at me when he gave the command.

I swallowed whatever pride I had left and poured the drinks out for them.

Cassie reached for a glass, her laugh cutting through the air.

I moved quickly to give her a glass and Micheal too.

What is wrong with me?

Micheal gave the wine a sip and twirled it in his glass. “Good. You can go now.”

I was stunned. “What?”

Micheal's gaze shifted to mine. “Did I speak Spanish? I said you can go.”

I turned to Cassie, hoping she'd say something different this time but she dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

No. I can't let this go on any further.

“Micheal…”

“What!” He barked.

My vision blurred and I blinked. They couldn't see me cry. “But I have to tell you…”

“Don't embarrass yourself, Evelyn!” He snapped. “March to your room and shut the door!”

“But I…”

“That's it!” He flared. “Go to your room and pack your things. I want you out of here by morning.”

My knees blocked but I grabbed a chair heavy to steady myself. “What?”

Micheal glared at me. “I want you to leave. Mother was right. You're useless.”

Those words hit me like a slap. “You want me to leave?”

“Better yet, I want you to die.” He said, his eyes colder than anything I'd ever seen. “I wish you were dead.”

Tears were beginning to fill my eyes. Micheal wished me dead.

“Get out!”

I let the tears fall, not caring about my pride anymore. My hands went to my stomach. I had been so excited to tell him about our little one. Now, I don't think I ever will.

I found the strength to leave the room, each step feeling like climbing a mountain.

The second I reached my personal bedroom, my legs gave out beneath me and I sobbed uncontrollably.

For the first time in three years, I gave up. For the first time in three years, this was me understanding that I could never win Micheal's love. Nothing I did was enough. I was never enough. Maybe, it was me. Maybe, I'm the problem.

I wiped my cheeks and rose to my feet. I was leaving.

Micheal's words echoed in my head as I packed my things. I moved on autopilot, shoving my clothes and everything I owned into my bags.

By dawn, I was gone.