We escaped the orphanage together, slept under bridges, split a single cup of instant noodles. In the worst days, all we had to fill our stomachs was water.
We couldn't afford birth control. Couldn't afford a clinic.
I threw myself into the freezing cold, climbed staircases and hurled myself down them,
endured the pain, cried until I had nothing left, and let two babies go.
Noel knelt at my bedside and stabbed himself twice with a knife.
His bloodied hand, trembling, covered my eyes. Each word landed right against my ear.
"Brooklyn, I swear I'll give you a good life. If I ever betray you, let God strike me dead."
That promise carried weight.
I believed it for half my life. Built my whole life around it.
The damage to my body, the pressure on my mind, the grinding monotony of scraping by. None of it left room for me to be soft-tempered.
Up until thirty minutes ago, when Noel held me in front of our friends and solemnly vowed to love me forever, I still thought every sacrifice had been worth it.
His phone rang. The ringtone was distinctive.
I'd heard it many times in the middle of the night. Noel always said it was a client.
I trusted him too completely to ever question it.
Now I knew how stupid I'd been.
He didn't answer right away. His voice was calm, the kind of calm you'd use to soothe a child throwing a tantrum.
"Why make yourself miserable over a plaything? We have twenty-eight years between us. You really want to throw that away over an outsider?"
"You're not young anymore, Brooklyn. No parents, no job. I'm the only one who'll take care of you. Keep pushing, and even that won't last."
He handed his luggage to his assistant. "I'll have my assistant take you somewhere nice, clear your head. I'm going to see Florence. Think about what I said."
The moment Noel turned away, he picked up the call. "Baby, your husband's on his way..."
That word. Husband. It hit me like a slap across the face.
I ran to the bathroom and threw up until tears streaked down my cheeks.
I pulled the pregnancy test from my pocket, the paper still warm. Then I took out my phone and made a call.
Noel was right about one thing.
I shouldn't keep putting myself through this.
I didn't have the strength for a honeymoon. I sent the assistant away and walked back to the bridal suite alone.
I punched in the code. Opened the door.
A man's low, breathless moan drifted out.