Mae didn’t even flinch. "You don’t get it, do you?" She let out a bitter laugh. "Do you know what it’s like to be compared to you all my life? You, the perfect daughter. You, the one with a bright future. And me? The disappointment. The girl who got pregnant at eighteen and had to—"
She stopped herself.
But I knew.
My breath hitched. "Mae… what did you do?"
Her lips pressed together, her chin trembling slightly. Then she whispered, almost too quietly, "I got rid of it."
My whole body went cold.
A sickening, twisting pain coiled in my chest as the reality settled in.
She… she had an abortion.
"You were pregnant, and you—" My voice broke.
"I had no choice!" she snapped, finally showing emotion. "I had no future! I had nothing! But you—" She let out a bitter, breathless laugh. "You had everything. And I was sick of it. So when Bryant gave me a way out, I took it."
My palm connected with her cheek before I could stop myself.
A sharp, echoing slap filled the room.
Mae’s head snapped to the side, but she didn’t look surprised. If anything, she looked relieved.
"You… you let Dad believe you were dead," I choked, my vision blurring. "Do you know what you did to him? He stopped eating, Mae! He almost had a heart attack from the stress!"
For the first time, Mae hesitated. Guilt flashed in her eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly. She straightened, regaining her composure.
"He’ll be fine," she muttered. "Because now, I’ll be the one to take over the company."
I stared at her, feeling my heart shatter into pieces.
This wasn’t the sister I grew up with.
Mae smirked and reached for the door handle. "Good luck with Bryant," she said, her tone almost teasing. "You’re going to need it."
And then, she walked away.
She left me standing there, alone, broken, and trapped.
I had survived the wedding. But surviving Bryant was an entirely different battle.
For the next few months, I lived under his roof, bound to him in a marriage that felt more like a prison sentence. Bryant controlled everything—where I went, who I spoke to, even what I wore.
He was different now. More possessive. More ruthless.
It wasn’t like before—when we were engaged and my parents had forbidden our wedding. Back then, I loved him. Or at least, I thought I did.
Now, love had no place between us.
And the worst part? He knew it.