A single tear slipped from the corner of my eye.
Even now, all he cared about was whether my heart was still usable.
I didn't know how much time passed before I woke to the sharp sting of antiseptic.
Bertram stood by the window. I blinked, momentarily stunned.
"You're up. How do you feel?"
He crossed the room when he saw my eyes open, pressing the back of his hand gently to my forehead.
My heart leapt into my throat.
The warmth of his touch was so real it made everything inside me twist tighter.
"If you're feeling alright, get up and pick a dress. I need you at an event with me."
His voice landed somewhere deep in my chest and sent a tremor through me.
A row of dresses in different styles already hung along one side of the room.
I pressed my lips together, suddenly greedy for this moment. For the illusion of it.
Everything felt the way it used to. He was still him, the man who bent the world to his will and no one else's.
But when his car pulled up in front of a prenatal school, I froze.
Wasn't he taking me to an event?
Bertram said nothing. He strode inside without a word.
The receptionist at the front desk hurried over, practically bowing.
"Mr. Delgado, everything you requested has been arranged. Your wife is inside, in class."
Wife? Class?
I looked at Bertram, frowning.
He didn't offer a single word of explanation. Not until I saw her through the glass partition: Alexis Pruitt, sitting attentively in a parenting class.
The air left my lungs.
Three pregnancies. Three times I had asked him to come to parenting classes with me.
And every time, the same answer: "Prue, I just took over the company. All my energy needs to go into the projects."
To make things easier for him, I had swapped out the parenting classes for massage techniques and cooking courses instead. Every day I stayed home like a good wife, waiting for him to walk through the door so I could cook for him, knead the tension from his shoulders.
Ten years. Ten years I kept that up.
I couldn't stop myself from looking at him, and the dull ache in my chest deepened into something unbearable.
Bertram's gaze was locked on Alexis. The faint smile curving his lips, the tenderness spilling from his eyes, was so thick it was almost obscene.
I suddenly felt ridiculous. Pathetic, even, for daring to hope he might come back to me.
"Hey, doesn't that dress she's wearing look familiar?"
Two receptionists whispered behind me.
"I knew something was off about her the second she walked in. Now it makes sense."
"That's hilarious. Trying to copy Mrs. Delgado's style to seduce Mr. Delgado, and he won't even look at her."
"See the snagged thread on the hem? Last time Mr. Delgado brought his wife to parenting class, Mrs. Delgado was wearing that exact dress and caught the fabric on something. Mr. Delgado didn't even blink, just bought her a dozen limited-edition dresses on the spot."
Their voices weren't loud, but they were loud enough.
I turned to look at the man beside me. His sharp, cold profile hit me like a slap I couldn't hear.
The taste of blood lingered between my teeth. My fingers clenched the fabric of my skirt until my knuckles went white.
So that was it. To Bertram, I was only fit to wear Alexis Pruitt's hand-me-downs.
"Bertram!"
The next second, Alexis burst out from behind the glass partition, beaming as she ran toward us.
She slammed into my shoulder as she passed, then threw herself into Bertram's arms.
The impact sent me stumbling sideways. My lower back cracked against the corner of the wall, and cold sweat broke across my skin.
Bertram's voice drifted over, impossibly gentle. "You're pregnant. Don't run around like that."
"I just missed you so much." Alexis pouted, clinging to him. Then her eyes widened with theatrical surprise. "Oh? Prudence, you're here too!"
I glanced at that guileless, butter-wouldn't-melt expression of hers and felt my stomach turn.
"I certainly am. And imagine my surprise, finding out the Delgado family's foster sister gets to be called 'Mrs. Delgado' around here."
The color drained from Alexis's face.
"Wait, what does she mean? Alexis is the fake wife?"
"Sounds pretty convincing to me. But if that's true, why does Mr. Delgado always come here with her?"
I looked at the happy couple, my gaze dripping with contempt.
But beneath it, my heart was still waiting. Still stupidly hoping for Bertram's choice.
After a long silence, he reached out and pulled the woman beside him into his arms. The pressure radiating off him crashed over me like a wave.
"Prudence, do you really have to drag Alexis down just to feed your pathetic little need for attention?"
Of course.
I watched them and let out a bitter laugh.
"Fine. I'll keep my distance."
I turned to leave, but in that same instant, my feet stopped.
Not far away, a mascot costume stood propped up, perfectly still.
Ten years ago, on my birthday, I had worked until well past midnight. When I finally stepped outside, there was a ring-toss booth set up in front of the building. The vendor was someone in a big brown bear suit.
I tossed ten rings. Missed every single one.
Then the bear pulled off its head.
Bertram's hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. His usually stern face was flushed pink from the heat.
Under the moonlight, those eyes, brimming with love and bright as stars, made my heart skip a beat.
I would never forget the way he caught his breath, teasing me with a voice that was careful and tender all at once: "How about you just take me home instead?"
I found out later that he had stood in that sweltering costume under the blazing sun for five hours, all to surprise me on my birthday.
The memory hit me, and the heart I thought had gone numb stirred again, aching with something I couldn't name.
Then a hand seized my arm and yanked me back.
