"Sylvia always acted so quiet and harmless. Turns out she's completely shameless. Don't tell me Mr. Henson actually fell for that little homewrecker?"
Close friends reached out too, worried, asking what I planned to do. Whether I should try talking sense into Eugene.
"You two have ten years of history together. You built everything side by side. Don't let some outsider waltz in and steal what's yours."
"He's probably just infatuated with something new. It'll pass once the novelty wears off..."
Even my parents called to ask what I intended to do.
"Our daughter doesn't need to suffer this kind of humiliation for the sake of a business alliance."
I kept my voice steady.
"I'll break off the engagement. But I'm not going to make it easy for him. The Hensons will come to me with a full apology and enough compensation to match. They'll be the ones begging for my forgiveness."
As for our baby...
I pressed my hand against my stomach, ache and longing warring inside me.
I knew I should terminate the pregnancy and sever every last tie to Eugene Henson.
But when I thought about my previous life, how this child had been lost before its time, and how in this life I'd managed to keep it safe, the thought of letting go was unbearable.
I gathered my thoughts, deciding to give myself time to think it through.
That was when an old friend tracked me down. She'd been with Eugene and me from the very beginning, back when we first started the company. Guilt was written all over her face.
"I'm sorry. I noticed something was off between Eugene and that assistant a long time ago. But I was afraid of wrecking things between you two, so I just..."
From her, I learned the truth about the six months I'd spent in the dark like a fool.
Sylvia had been Eugene's junior in college. She never should have qualified for a position at our company. Eugene had pulled strings to get her hired.
Once she was in, he shielded her at every turn. At client dinners, he'd personally take her drinks for her, downing shot after shot so she wouldn't have to.
The memory hit me like a wave. For the past six months, every time Eugene came home from a business dinner, he'd been drunk and doubled over with stomach pain, unable to sleep through the night.
I'd felt so sorry for him. I'd stayed up with him, rubbing his back, bringing him medicine.