Alira’s POV
Dulcie looked shy and demure while Geoffrey’s face lit up with joy. He immediately called Rhonda, his mom, to share the news.
The Fontaines had always placed enormous importance on continuing the family line. Ever since Rhonda learned she might never have grandchildren, she’d been quietly drowning in disappointment. She never liked me, not really—and she certainly never approved of my career.
Now, with Dulcie pregnant, Rhonda was practically skipping into our home.
Dulcie caught my stunned expression and blinked at me innocently.
“Alira, you’re not mad, are you? You know how much this family values heirs. Geoffrey’s just doing what’s best.”
Then she pulled something else from her purse: the medical report Geoffrey had left in the car.
It was mine.
The words [permanently infertile] screamed across the page, stabbing straight into my pride.
Geoffrey probably noticed the color drain from my face. He immediately tried to soothe me.
“Hon, I didn’t show you this because… I didn’t want to hurt you. Losing the baby was already so painful. But now that Dulcie’s pregnant… It’s a blessing. Maybe it’ll bring some happiness back into our lives.”
He reached for my hand.
“Don’t worry,” he added quickly, “Dulcie promised she wouldn’t interfere in our life after the baby’s born.”
Moments later, Rhonda rushed in, beaming with delight. She took Dulcie’s hands, pulling her into a warm embrace.
The moment she saw the report, her smile withered into a thin, bitter line.
She let out a long sigh.
“If you can’t give us a child,” she said coldly, “then my son needs to take responsibility for Dulcie and this pregnancy—no matter what.”
And with that, they all headed inside, leaving me standing alone in the entryway.
I watched them—their laughter, their joy—until it became too much. Clutching that awful piece of paper, I collapsed in sobs.
I cried until my lungs give out, my breathing slipping into alkalosis. No one noticed.
Eventually, the cold rain woke me.
Soaked and shivering, I dragged myself back inside—only to be informed that my bedroom had been moved… to the tiny storage room by the basement.
Backed by the family’s affection, Dulcie no longer bothered to hide her contempt. She openly scowled at me now, hurling passive jabs whenever she could. My belongings had been tossed carelessly into a dusty corner. Even my very wedding photo had been torn into pieces.
The ceiling leaked. The floor was damp and freezing. I had to curl up into a tight ball on the cot, trying to stay warm.
By morning, as I had expected, I’d come down with a high fever and a terrible cold. The roar of machinery outside jolted me awake.
I dragged myself to the window—only to see Dulcie cheerfully directing the workers to dig up the garden.
Geoffrey stood beside her, nodding along.
“Are you sure it’s okay to remove the garden, Geoffrey?” she asked. “It’s just… I’m allergic to pollen.”
“It’s fine,” he replied. “Your health comes first. I’ll do whatever you want.”
‘Year after year, the same flowers bloomed—but the people… they were never the same,’ I realized.
Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Theron.
[Don’t miss your flight tonight.]
I was about to go upstairs and get my luggage when Dulcie stepped in. Seeing my pale, sickly face, she asked with concern.
“You look awful,” she said softly. “Did you sleep okay?”
Then she added, “I’m so sorry. I was scared of the thunder last night… I asked Geoffrey to stay with me. I hope you didn’t mind sleeping downstairs.”
She handed me a cup of what smelled like chamomile tea. As she leaned in, the love bite on her collarbone was impossible to miss.
I pretended I didn’t notice it. I just brushed past her, so I could start packing my stuff upstairs.
But just then—somehow—the tea spilled, scalding her leg. She screamed in pain.
Geoffrey came running. Dulcie collapsed right into his arms, sobbing about how cold I’d been.
He turned to me, frowning, his voice icy.
“Do you not understand? Dulcie’s pregnant because of you. She’s doing this for your sake. Why can’t you just accept her?”
He carried her off to the hospital. As they left, Dulcie shot me a smug, triumphant look over his shoulder.
I stood there, speechless, my heart pounding.
I decided I better go pack upstairs. But once I saw my suitcase, something felt off.
I opened it, and that’s when I realized all my jewelry was missing. I found it later—neatly laid out on Dulcie’s vanity like trophies.
The baby clothes I’d brought home after Sonny’s funeral? Slashed into rags.
My hands trembled with rage.
‘That woman—my so-called best friend—has crossed every line. And Geoffrey… he’s no victim either.’
I was done.
It was useless leaving with whatever stuff belonged to me in that villa. In the end, with nothing but myself, I hopped into the cab I booked and headed straight to the airport.
On the way, I blocked them both on every app I had.
Geoffrey’s POV
By the time I returned from the hospital with Dulcie, it was already dark. Strangely, inside the villa, it was unnervingly quiet.
“Alira?” I called, over and over. But no one answered.
I began to lose it. I searched every room, floor to floor.
Then, finally, in the bedroom upstairs, I saw it—her half-packed suitcase, sitting abandoned.
My brows furrowed. I pulled out his phone and called her—but the call was disconnected.
