The door slammed shut behind us with a heavy, shaking bang that echoed through the entire room.
Damien stood there frozen for a second, then turned to me with a face drained of color but burning with rage. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might break.
“Was that you?” he snapped, voice rising. “Did you leak Ethan’s identity to the press?”
My stomach dropped. “What are you even saying?”
He stepped closer, hands visibly shaking now. “Stop pretending, Clara! It’s everywhere—everyone knows! Ethan’s been locked in his room crying for hours, too scared to even show his face at school. He’s humiliated! Who else could’ve done this if not you? We had a deal—if you crossed the line, I’d destroy your career!”
Tears rushed to my eyes. “Damien, I swear I didn’t do it!” I cried out. “Why would I drag a child into something like revenge? I was just as shocked as you were! I would never—never do that!”
“Then explain it!” he shouted back. “You’re the only one who benefits from this mess getting out! You wanted to get back at me!”
He didn’t give me another second. He grabbed my wrist hard and pulled me down the hallway, dragging me into our bedroom before I could even react. The door shut behind me with a sharp click.
“Stay in there,” he said coldly through the door. “I can’t even look at you right now. You’ve destroyed everything.”
His footsteps faded down the hall.
And I slid to the floor.
My whole body was shaking. My chest hurt with every breath I tried to take. From somewhere in the house, I could still hear Ethan crying—soft, broken sobs that made my stomach twist painfully.
Yes, I hated what Damien had done. I hated the lie he built around Ethan. But I never hated the child. I cared for him—like family. Like a brother.
I thought I could let it go eventually… for peace, for survival. I even planned to have someone look into it quietly—someone I trusted—to find out who exposed everything.
But now this…
I placed a trembling hand over my stomach. There was a faint, fragile life there.
“It’s okay,” I whispered through tears. “You’re going to be okay… I promise.”
But even as I said it, it didn’t feel real.
My breathing got heavier. A strange warmth spread through me. I looked down slowly.
Red.
It was spreading through my clothes like ink.
“No… please no,” I gasped, clutching my stomach as panic hit me all at once.
A sharp pain tore through me, so intense I couldn’t even scream properly. My vision blurred. I tried to stand, but my legs gave out immediately, and everything tilted sideways before going completely dark.
When I opened my eyes again, the smell of disinfectant filled my senses.
Cold hospital air. White ceiling. Numb hands.
A doctor stood beside me, his expression heavy, almost reluctant to speak.
“Mrs. Caldwell,” he said quietly, “I’m very sorry… but due to severe stress and complications, the baby couldn’t be saved.”
The words didn’t fully register at first.
My mind went blank.
My baby.
Gone.
And everything else… still falling apart around me. Soon, the truth about everything would explode anyway. What was I even supposed to do after this?
Then the tears came—but slowly, silently, like I had no strength left even to cry properly.
The door suddenly burst open.
Regina stormed in, her heels sharp against the floor, her face tight with anger instead of concern.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?” she hissed. “Do you realize the damage this is causing? The headlines, the scandal—and now this? Another crisis on top of everything!”
I looked at her blankly. “I just lost my child,” I whispered weakly.
Not even Damien came.
Not even once.
Regina scoffed, folding her arms. “And who’s responsible for that? If you weren’t so emotional, so desperate to act like the victim all the time—”
“Stop!” I screamed, my voice breaking as I pushed myself up slightly. “Just stop already! I’m done with all of you!”
Before she could respond, another voice cut through the room.
Camille.
She leaned casually by the doorway, lips curved in a cold smile.
“This is all your fault,” she said flatly. “My sister is losing her mind because of you. You destroyed her family, you ruined Ethan’s life, and yet you still stand there pretending to be the victim? It’s disgusting.”
Their voices overlapped after that—Regina and Camille, both attacking me from different sides, words sharp enough to suffocate me. I could barely think through the noise.
Then—
Damien walked in.
His face was unreadable. Not soft. Not angry in the usual way. Just tired… and empty.
“Enough,” he said sharply, silencing both of them instantly.
His eyes landed on me.
“You’re going to fix this,” he said coldly. “Go back to work. Do the broadcast tonight. Deny everything. Lie if you have to—that’s what you’re good at, right? Or better yet, say Ethan is our son. Do whatever it takes. If you don’t, your career is finished.”
I stared at him.
Something inside me cracked all over again.
He waited for a reply.
I had none.
After a long silence, I simply gave a small, broken nod.
That evening, I sat under the harsh studio lights. The red recording dot stared back at me like an unblinking eye. My script sat untouched beside me. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“In five… four…” the producer’s voice came through my earpiece.
I inhaled slowly.
“Good evening,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “I’m Clara Caldwell.”
I paused. My throat tightened.
“Before I begin tonight’s report… I need to say something. Not as an anchor—but as a woman who has lived too long inside lies.”
The studio froze. Even the control room went silent.
“I did not know Ethan was my husband’s son,” I continued. “I was deceived—just like everyone else. And yes… I also lied. I built a false identity just to be accepted in a world that never truly wanted me. But I can’t do it anymore.”
My voice shook as I reached up and removed my microphone.
“I’m resigning… from this job… and from this life.”
Then I stood up and walked away from the set.
That night, my phone didn’t stop ringing.
Damien. Regina. Unknown numbers. Messages flooding in one after another.
I didn’t open any of them.
I blocked Damien’s number.
Then I called my lawyer.
“Prepare the divorce papers,” I said quietly. “And make sure I never have to hear from him again.”
Within the hour, I packed everything I could carry. No more pretending. No more holding on.
At dawn, I was on the first flight out.
The sky outside the window slowly turned gold, soft and quiet.
For the first time in a long while, I felt something close to peace.
I closed my eyes and whispered to the life I lost… and the version of myself I had buried for too long.
“It’s over now,” I said softly. “No more lies.”
