A dull, persistent ache throbbed across my entire body as I drifted back into consciousness. For a moment, I simply lay still, eyes focused on the ceiling above me. Everything felt strange, yet sickeningly familiar—the beeping machines, the sharp scent of disinfectant, the sterile quiet of the room pressing down on me like a weight.
I pulled in a shaky breath, lungs tight. I was alive. Somehow, I had survived.
But something wasn’t right.
Slowly, I reached down toward my abdomen. My fingers met the thin cotton of a hospital gown, and beneath that—pain. A tight pull, a stinging throb. I carefully peeled the blanket back and saw it: bandages. A fresh surgical dressing wrapped tightly around my midsection.
My stomach clenched. Did they really go through with it? Did they take something from me I could never get back?
My breathing hitched. I thought of the nurse. I had begged her to call my brother—to do something, anything. Did she ignore me? Was I too late?
The soft groan of the door opening pulled me out of my panic. I instantly closed my eyes and composed my face into a neutral mask.
Footsteps followed. I recognized the faint cologne before I saw the man.
Ronnie.
He walked closer, and a false tenderness coated his voice as he murmured, “You're awake, sweetheart.”
I blinked my eyes open slowly, feigning confusion. “Ronnie…?”
His smile stretched too easily. “You’re alright now. The doctors did what they had to do, and you’re in recovery. Give it some time, and with a bit of rehab, you’ll be walking again.”
I swallowed hard and gave a weak nod. I had to act like I knew nothing.
Then, his face grew somber. He let out a long sigh and took a seat beside my bed, reaching for my hand as if this pained him more than anything in the world.
“There’s… something else you should know,” he said gently, squeezing my fingers in mock support.
I said nothing. Just stared.
“The accident…” He paused, pretending to gather himself. “The internal injuries were worse than they expected. They couldn’t save everything.”
My silence stretched between us like a chasm.
He looked down, his voice thick with manufactured grief. “They had to remove your uterus.”
I gasped as though the news had blindsided me. “No… that can’t be.”
“I’m sorry, Doris.” His tone softened further, eyes shimmering with staged sorrow. “I know how much you wanted to have kids. We both did. But I promise, this doesn’t change anything between us.”
He leaned in and cradled my cheek in his palm, as if I were made of porcelain.
“We can still build a family. Adoption is always an option. There’s a wonderful orphanage I’ve worked with before. We’ll find a child to love together. None of this changes how I feel about you.”
Every word dripped with deceit, but I kept my expression calm. Inside, I was screaming. I wanted to rip his hand from my face, to accuse him of everything—but I didn’t. Not yet.
Ronnie continued playing the devoted fiancé for the rest of the day. He brought me lunch, adjusted my blankets, stroked my hair, and sat beside me whispering soothing words.
And I played along. I smiled. I nodded. I thanked him.
But all the while, I was counting the minutes, watching the door, waiting for the moment he would leave.
When he finally did, and the door clicked shut behind him, I released the breath I’d been holding for hours.
A few seconds later, the nurse came in.
I locked eyes with her and spoke in a hushed, urgent voice. “Did you reach him? My brother?”
She gave a slight nod, casting a wary glance at the hallway before slipping a phone into my hand.
The line was already connecting.
Then—
“Doris?”
The voice on the other end made my throat tighten. I hadn’t heard it in years, but I’d know it anywhere.
“It's me,” I whispered, barely holding myself together.
“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice hard with emotion.
Tears pooled in my eyes. “I didn’t listen. I should’ve believed you. I thought I knew better.” My voice cracked. “Can you come get me? Please?”
There was a pause filled with silence heavier than stone. Then his voice came again, laced with guilt and fury. “I should’ve stopped this sooner. I knew he was dangerous. Ronnie’s hated me since I landed that contract—he always blamed me for taking it from him. Maybe this… was his way of settling the score.”
I bit my lip to stop from sobbing.
“But listen to me,” he said, voice firm now. “The operation didn’t happen. I got there in time. Nothing was removed.”
I inhaled sharply, the weight on my chest lifting an inch.
“You’ll recover fully,” he reassured me. “Just keep up the act. Don’t raise suspicion. Once you’re strong enough, I’ll send a private jet to bring you home.”
I closed my eyes, clutching the phone. “Alright.”
When the call ended, I turned to the nurse. “No one else can find out. Not a word.”
She nodded with resolve. “Your brother made sure I’d keep this quiet. I’m with you.”
That night, Ronnie came back. His eyes scanned me with a hint of suspicion.
“You look… different. Are you feeling alright?”
I forced a tired smile. “I think the meds are working. I feel a little clearer.”
He chuckled. “You’ve always been tough. You bounce back like no one else.”
I tilted my head slightly, as if lost in thought. “You know what sounds good? Pizza.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Pizza? Now?”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry. It's late.”
Ronnie smirked. “You should’ve said something earlier. I’ll get it for you tomorrow.”
As if to reinforce his perfect partner image, he spoon-fed me dinner like a man deeply in love.
I let him.
Because I knew his little fantasy was about to crumble.
Later that night, when he believed I was asleep, his voice stirred me from stillness.
He was on a call.
“So, the divorce went through? That’s perfect,” he said, sounding pleased. “Now we can finally be together.”
Margaret.
The name was like poison in my veins.
Ronnie continued, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. “About the ceremony—Doris agreed to have someone stand in for her. She still doesn’t know that person is you.”
I felt all the pieces clicking into place. That’s why he insisted the wedding move forward, even while I was bedridden. He had masked it as corporate necessity, claiming optics and timing mattered.
Lies.
It had never been about business.
It was always Margaret.
“She won’t figure it out until it’s too late,” Ronnie said, a quiet laugh slipping from his lips. “She’ll think she’s marrying me, but really? I’ll be up there with you. And by the time the truth hits her, it won’t matter.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to gasp aloud.
“And as for her brother?” he added, voice turning venomous, “He thought he ruined me? No. I’m just getting started. I’ll destroy Doris in the process.”
