Darren took over all of my care for the duration of my hospital stay. He even declined Kitty's calls several times.
Once, when she called again, I caught the hesitation on his face.
I grabbed his hand and pressed it against my lower belly, looking up at him with the same wide-eyed dependence I'd perfected as a child.
"Darren, feel this. Our baby's sleeping right here."
"Don't worry, the baby's healthy. When they were hitting me that day, I made sure to protect my stomach, because I remembered you said you couldn't wait for us to have a child of our own. I wanted to make you happy."
"I don't like other people interrupting our time together as a family of three. So don't pick up, okay?"
Sometimes, a man's guilt is the most useful weapon there is.
Sure enough, Darren's eyes went red. Without a second of hesitation, he powered off his phone and pulled me into his arms.
"Jules, I'm sorry. This is all my fault."
"Kitty went way too far this time. I swear on my life, this is the last time. I will never let her hurt you again."
From an angle he couldn't see, my face was completely blank.
I already knew what happened when you believed promises and guarantees like those.
After Kitty couldn't reach Darren and I blocked her number, she finally lost her composure.
The next day, the large screen in the hospital lobby and the television in every patient room all began playing the same video.
It was footage of me pinned to the ground, my clothes being torn off.
Those thugs and their disgusting laughter.
A line of text scrolled across the top on repeat:
"Juliana Henson. Slut. Bastard factory."
Darren had gone to pick up food. When he came back, he found me curled up at the foot of the bed, shaking.
Every male patient in the room was eyeing me with lewd, undisguised stares.
"Damn, sweetheart, you really get around, huh? Does the bastard in your belly even know who its daddy is? How about you come keep me company after you're discharged?"
The women and their families spat at me, hurling every degrading name they could think of, telling me to get out.
Darren was livid. He smashed the television, demanded the hospital cut the feed immediately, and had me transferred to a private VIP room.
Even though Kitty played dumb, he tore into her until there was nothing left.
And right in front of me, he blocked her on everything.
This time, it was real.
Kitty had been spoiled by his indulgence for too long. She couldn't accept it. She snapped completely.
The following evening at dusk, she had her people drag me to the rooftop terrace on the fifth floor and forced me to my knees.
One stiletto heel slammed into the side of my head. Blood poured down instantly.
"You conniving bitch. You're using that pregnancy to play the victim, aren't you? Deliberately driving a wedge between me and Darren!"
"You think he actually likes you? Let me tell you something. When I suggested using you as a breeding tool, he agreed without even blinking."
"Because he despises that pathetic little good-girl act of yours. Always so agreeable, never angry, like you're the most selfless person alive and the whole world owes you something."
"He wanted to let you believe you were at your happiest, and then drag you straight to hell. Watch you cry and beg. Rip that fake mask right off your face!"
Kitty pulled out a paring knife, her eyes burning with hatred, and pressed the blade against my belly.
"But I've changed my mind. There are plenty of women in this world who can have babies. Worst case, we'll just adopt one."
"You will never use a child to come between my husband and me. I'll gut it right now!"
The words barely left her mouth before a figure came sprinting across the rooftop.
He kicked her so hard she flew backward, the knife clattering out of her hand.
"Touch her one more time and see what happens!"
