The morning light filtered through the curtains, too bright and too cruel for someone like me. I groaned softly as I woke up on the couch in one of the guest rooms, my neck stiff and my body aching from the awkward position I had slept in. I had no courage to see Regan last night.A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I managed, my voice hoarse.The door creaked open to reveal Susan, one of the maids.“Good morning, Miss”I sat up slowly, running a hand through my tangled hair. “Morning, Susan.”“There’s someone looking for you. One of Mr. Regan’s business associates” “Tell them I’ll contact them later”Susan nodded, stepping back toward the door. “Very well, Miss.”Just as she reached for the handle, I stopped her. “Susan,” I called softly, my throat dry. “Where’s Regan?”Her pause was telling. “Sir Regan left early this morning. He didn’t say where he was going.”Of course, he did. I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding stiffly. “Thank you, Susan.”She lingered f
The days blurred into each other, each one more unbearable than the last. It had been nearly a week since Regan last stepped foot in the house. I went through the motions like a ghost. Mornings began with waking up to an empty bed, the sheets on his side still perfectly smooth. I would wander down to the dining room, where Susan and the others set out breakfast, their expressions carefully neutral. Most of the time, I didn’t touch the food. The taste of anything felt foreign to me, and my stomach churned at the thought of eating.I spent hours trying to distract myself, but everything I did felt hollow. The books I picked up went unread after a few pages. The TV droned on in the background. Even music, which had always been my escape, felt unbearable.Every evening, I found myself sitting by the living room window, staring out at the driveway. My phone was always within arm’s reach, its screen lighting up every now and then with messages or calls from people I couldn’t bring myself to
The car door slammed shut, and I hesitated for a moment, glancing at the towering gates in front of me. My heart thudded painfully against my ribcage, but I forced myself to take a deep breath. Marianne was already walking ahead of me.I stepped out of the car. My eyes swept over the grand estate. Marianne was leading me into the house, but I felt a disconnect like I was walking into a place I didn’t belong.I adjusted my red dress. The fabric clung to my body, creating the illusion of confidence, of control. It was bold, daring even. I thought of it as my armor, a way to hide the weakness that had been creeping through my veins for the past week. The dress, a tight-fitting, satin fabric, shimmered slightly under the light, cut just above my knees. The hemline was sharp and clean. It was a fiery red, the kind of color that demanded attention. The deep red mimicked the color of my lips.Marianne glanced over her shoulder, giving me a nod of approval as she led me inside, her heels cli
The women around the table giggled, a high-pitched, practiced sound that filled the room. The blonde woman, who had commented earlier, leaned in.“Oh, I must say, your stepmother has always had an eye for fashion,” she commented, eyeing my red dress. “She’s always been the one to make everything look effortlessly chic.”Marianne smiled at the compliment, her lips curling upward, though I could see the flicker of something dark in her eyes as she glanced at me. It was brief, but it was there.“Well, it’s not all me. Anastasia certainly knows how to shock us all, doesn’t she?” She turned toward me, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she added, “She’s always been quite the surprise.”The comment surprised me, and I could feel the eyes of the women around the table shift, their interest piqued. I kept my gaze steady, refusing to let any of the unease bubbling in my chest show on my face.“Yes,” one of the other women, a brunette with perfectly manicured nails, chimed in, “It’s so rare to
The women had slowly made their exits. Caroline, however, was the last to rise, her movements deliberate but stiff. She gave me a polite nod, a faint smile pulling at her lips, but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she held herself back from saying more.“Take care, Anastasia. Call me if you need anything else.” She reached up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear in an almost affectionate gesture before she held my hands. Her eyes are almost apologetic. "We should talk some other time. Something we didn’t do after what happened"I nodded absently, feeling her pressed my hands. A weak smile flickered on my lips, though I didn’t feel it as I watched her disappear from my sight.I was left alone with Marianne, who had stood from her chair. Her heels clicked sharply on the polished floor. The cool evening air hit me like a slap in the face as we stepped out into the open. Once inside the car, it was unnervingly quiet. Marianne sat across from me, her eyes unfocused,
The living room was dim, lit only by a few scattered lamps, and there, slouched on the couch, was Regan. His usually immaculate appearance was disheveled—his shirt untucked, his tie loose, and his hair a mess. But what struck me the most was the empty bottle of whiskey in his hand and the way he barely seemed to notice my presence as I walked closer. He was drunk.I stood frozen for a moment, taking in the sight of him. My heart ached a tight pain that spread through my chest, making it hard to breathe.“Regan,” I whispered. My knees felt weak, but I forced myself closer to him, ignoring the way the maids stood frozen behind me.He sat slumped in the chair, clutching a half-empty bottle like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His head hung low. I knelt in front of him, my hand hesitating before reaching out. “Regan,” I pleaded softly, “please… you need to stop. You need to sleep. You’re—”His eyes snapped open, bloodshot and wild, and his hand lashed out before I could even re
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the faint outline of my reflection in the window. The storm had quieted, leaving only a steady drizzle against the glass. My chest felt hollow, the weight of Regan’s words still pressing against me like a phantom ache.The door creaked open, and I didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. His presence was unmistakable—heavy, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.“Anastasia,” he said, his tone sharper than necessary. I didn’t respond, my hands gripping the fabric of my dress tightly. He sighed; the sound laced with impatience. “Your mother called. She’s arranged a trip for us—two days at some resort by the coast.”I blinked, “A trip?”“Yes,” He stepped further into the room. “She thinks it’ll be… good for us.” His words dripped with disdain, but there was something else in his voice—a reluctance, a sense of obligation he couldn’t shake.I turned to face him, my eyes meeting his. “And you agreed?”He shrugged, “What was I supposed to say? No? Sh
The car pulled up to the edge of the beach, and as soon as I stepped out, the scent of the ocean hit me—fresh, salty, and oddly calming. I glanced around, taking in the private beach stretching endlessly before us. The sand was so white it almost looked untouched, the kind of pristine that made you hesitant to leave a footprint. I’d seen beaches like this dozens of times, from the Amalfi Coast to private islands in the Maldives, but they never failed to leave me in awe.“Wow,” I murmured, unable to stop myself. Regan didn’t respond. He was too busy pulling his phone from his pocket, already distracted as the driver unloaded our bags from the trunk. The beach house stood a little further back. The house was striking—modern, minimalistic, and drenched in sunlight. Glass walls reflected the ocean, and the sleek wooden decks were accented with lush greenery. It was the kind of property that screamed exclusivity, even by my standards.The driver handed me my suitcase with a polite smile,
The large garden loomed ahead, its vibrant flowers and sprawling yard basking under the afternoon sun—so bright, so full of life. The contrast made my emptiness feel all the more suffocating.Then, suddenly—SLAP!The force of it sent me crashing to the ground. A sharp sting spread across my cheek, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth where my teeth cut into my lip. I gasped, my mind spinning, the world tilting as I stared at the dirt beneath me, too stunned to move.“Marianne, what the hell?!” Sheila shrieked.And then, in the chaos of it all, her voice sliced through the air like a blade."She’s pregnant!" Sheila’s voice cracked as if the weight of it had finally been too much to bear.The world went still. The air shifted, suffocating and thick with an emotion too heavy to name. Marianne stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat. Her anger twisted into something else—shock, disbelief, devastation. Her lips parted, but no words came out.I could barely move. My body was
Sheila froze. I finally looked at her, and there was nothing in my gaze. No fight. No anger. No will left to argue. Just sheer, crushing exhaustion.“I’m tired,” I murmured. “I feel sick. I don’t want to do this right now.”Sheila opened her mouth to protest, but then she really looked at me. I knew what she saw. I was pale. My lips were dry, almost cracked. The dark circles beneath my eyes were so deep they looked bruised. My hands, resting limply on my lap, trembled slightly.I wasn’t just exhausted.I was broken.Sheila swallowed hard, her frustration shifting into something else—something much more painful.For the first time, she didn’t argue. I just turned my head, looking back out at the horizon, my eyes unfocused, lost in the vast emptiness stretching before me.Sheila was quiet for a moment. I thought she had given up, that she would just walk away like everyone else eventually did.But then, suddenly, she broke.A soft sob escaped her lips, barely audible at first, before it
A Week LaterThe house was quiet. Too quiet.I sat motionless on the balcony of my bedroom, staring out at the vast expanse of green surrounding the mansion. It was a beautiful home—secluded, peaceful, far from the suffocating noise of the city. The kind of place people would call an escape. But for me, it was just another prison.Beside me, the plate of untouched food sat, the scent alone making my stomach twist. Nausea curled in my throat, threatening to rise. It had been this way for days. Every time I tried to eat, I ended up hunched over a toilet, dry heaving until there was nothing left. The exhaustion had settled deep into my bones, dragging me down, and making my body feel unbearably heavy.Susan and the other maids were here. I hadn’t asked them to resign; after Susan had called to tell me they resigned, I told them to stay. I didn’t know why. Maybe I didn’t want to be alone. Maybe I just didn’t care.They moved around the house, doing what they could, but none of it reached
My head shook automatically, small, frantic motions, my chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. "I—I don’t—what are you—?"Caroline pressed forward, her voice calm but firm. "Regan and Zarina—this is what’s best, Anastasia. You need to understand. The child, their child, deserves—"The words sliced through me like a jagged blade, making me flinch as if she had physically struck me. My ears started ringing, drowning out whatever else she was saying.Zarina’s child.Regan’s child.The bile rose so fast in my throat that I thought I would throw up again. My vision blurred, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I forced myself to focus on Caroline’s face. She was still talking—explaining, justifying, yapping—but the words jumbled together into meaningless noise. I barely recognized my own voice when I finally spoke. It was hoarse, breathless."Is this…" I swallowed hard, forcing the words out, "…because Zarina is pregnant?"Caroline visibly tensed. For the first time, she falter
After Sheila left, silence flooded back into the room, heavy and oppressive. I stared blankly at the untouched tray of food she had left behind. Forcing myself, I took a small spoonful, but the moment it touched my tongue, nausea surged violently. My stomach twisted painfully, and I barely made it to the small bathroom before I doubled over the sink, retching.Tears pricked at my eyes as I wiped my mouth with shaking hands. My body felt drained like all the energy had been sucked out of me. I pressed my forehead against the cool surface of the mirror, staring at the hollow-eyed reflection that stared back at me. The weight of everything—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the loneliness—wrapped around me like an unshakable fog.I forced myself back to bed, curling into myself, arms wrapped protectively over my belly. I wouldn’t cry. Not again. I was too exhausted to cry.Just as exhaustion began pulling me under, the door burst open again, revealing my mother-in-law, and startling me awake.
When I opened my eyes, the room was bathed in pale, cold sunlight filtering through the half-closed blinds. Everything felt disorienting, surreal, and heavy—as if the very air around me pressed down on my chest. For a few seconds, I stared blankly at the white ceiling, the only sound the steady beeping of machines at my side.And then it hit me—the baby.Panic surged through me like wildfire. My hands flew to my stomach, pressing desperately against the blanket. Fear rose so fast it choked me, and I gasped, tears instantly blurring my vision.“No… please, no,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “My baby…”I glanced around frantically, my heart racing. The room was empty. Sheila wasn’t here. No nurse. No doctor. No one to tell me anything. The silence suddenly felt deafening. I couldn't wait another second. I had to know.I pushed myself up, ignoring the sharp ache that jolted through my body. Every movement felt like agony, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was my child. I swung
Susan and the maids rushed toward me as I descended the stairs, their worried faces blurring as my vision swam. My legs felt like they weren’t my own, each step unsteady. The world tilted, and for a terrifying second, I thought I would collapse right there on the marble steps.“Miss Anastasia!” Susan gasped, reaching out just in time to steady me. The other maids circled around, their hands hovering anxiously, unsure if they should hold me up or let me go.I swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly to chase away the dizziness. My chest was tight, each breath a struggle against the sobs clawing their way up.“I’m fine,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, but my body betrayed me as I wobbled again.Susan’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re not fine, Miss. Please, let’s get you some water, sit down for a moment—”But I shook my head, my heart hammering in my chest. No. I needed to leave. I needed to get away from this place, from him. The moment I stepped outside, the cool air hit my
I felt sick. I felt so utterly sick."What if I was pregnant too?" the words came out my mouth before I realized it, my voice so soft I almost couldn’t hear myself.Regan’s head snapped toward me. And for the first time, he hesitated. For a single, gut-wrenching moment, something flickered across his face—something almost human—but it was gone as fast as it came.Then, with the same cold finality, the same knife to my throat, he answered:"Then I would ask you to get rid of it."Silence.I stopped existing. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just stopped.The world tilted. My body felt weightless, my ears ringing so loudly I couldn’t even hear my own breathing. I stared at him—at the man I had loved more than anything—standing there, looking at me as if I were nothing.I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to rip him apart, to throw something, to scream why why why until my throat bled. But I couldn’t do any of it. Because what was the point? He had already ma
The words escaped me in gasps, strangled and desperate. I needed him to stop hurting me. To stop choosing her. To stop breaking me every time he looked at me like I didn’t matter.I gripped him harder, my fingers trembling against his chest. “Why, Regan?” I choked out, “Why did you let it get this far? Why didn’t you—” I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t get the words out. The truth was suffocating me.I lifted my head, looking up at him through the tears streaming down my face. My heart was pounding in my chest, so loud I thought it would burst. My hands shook as I cupped his face, but he didn’t meet my gaze. His eyes were focused somewhere past me, distant. Empty. I didn’t know this man anymore. I didn’t know the man I had loved, the man I had trusted with everything.“I don’t want to hurt anymore, Regan. Please… just make it stop. Please.” My breath hitched, and I clutched him tighter, pressing my forehead against his chest, wishing that I could somehow make it all go away. “I loved you.