“I’m thinking of spiking her drink at the next gala. Set the scene. Let her wake up next to a guy so everyone will think she cheated with another guy. By then, I could file for a divorce because everyone would side with me, even her family. I’ll walk away clean and then be with Patricia.”
My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. He wanted me gone. That was the moment something inside me shattered—and something else, something harder, began to take its place.
I pulled myself back into the present when I heard his voice call from the kitchen.
“Babe! I made your favorite.”
I wiped my eyes quickly and stood, walking slowly toward the smell of food. I knew what was coming. He was trying again. Trying to play the perfect husband before the next blow.
I stepped into the kitchen. He stood by the stove, smiling, wearing that apron Patricia had gifted him.
"Come on, sit." He kissed my cheek like nothing had ever happened. Like we didn’t lose our child. He didn’t even mourn with me and just told me we could make another baby.
I looked down at the food and felt my stomach turn.
Mushroom risotto. That was Patricia’s favorite. Mine was steak. He knew that. Or maybe he had forgotten—because he never really paid attention.
Because I was never the one he saw. Because I was just… convenient.
Five more days. And I would never have to look at this man again.
I lit the candle in silence.
It was a soft white flame, steady and still, unlike my trembling fingers as I placed it beside the tiny pair of socks we had bought just a month ago. Blue and cotton-soft. Denver had picked them out, said they reminded him of the sky. He had said he wanted our son to grow up brave.
I knelt in front of the little altar I had made for our baby and closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice quaking. “I should’ve protected you better. I should’ve seen them for what they are. I’m sorry you never got a chance to meet this world... but maybe that’s a blessing too.”
I stayed like that for minutes—or maybe hours—just letting the grief pass through me. When I finally stood, I knew what I had to do next.
It was time to move on.
I started with the nursery.