The morning of the merger arrived with a gray, overcast sky. It was perfect.
I lay in bed, the blankets pulled up to my chin, shivering theatrically.
“Lyanna, get up,” Xander said, his voice tight with impatience. He was already dressed in his finest navy suit, checking his watch every five seconds. “We have to be there in an hour. The investors are waiting.”
“I… I can’t,” I moaned, clutching my stomach. “I feel terrible, Xander. I think the dengue… maybe a relapse. I’m so dizzy.”
Xander threw his hands up.
“Are you kidding me? Today? Of all days, you get sick today?”
He paced the room, running a hand through his gelled hair.
“Why won’t you just get it together? This is the biggest day of my life! Of our lives! And you’re lying here—”
The door creaked open.
“Is everything alright in here?”
Jonathan stood in the doorway, leaning on his cane, his sharp eyes assessing the scene.
Xander’s demeanor flipped like a switch. The anger vanished, replaced instantly by concern. He rushed to the bedside, sitting down and stroking my hair.
“Grandpa,” he said, his voice dripping with worry. “Lyanna isn’t feeling well. I’m so worried about her. She says she’s dizzy.”
“I’m so sorry, Grandpa,” I whispered, making my voice weak. “I really wanted to go.”
Jonathan frowned, walking over to the bed. He placed a hand on my forehead.
“She’s burning up,” he muttered. He looked at Xander sternly. “She stays here. Health comes first. You can handle the signing alone, can’t you?”
“I… well, her signature is required for the final transfer of shares,” Xander said, panic flashing in his eyes. “But… maybe we can bring the papers here later?”
“No, we can’t. They want to have it in the office, so we need to postpone it. I will just talk to them,” Jonathan said. “Take care of your wife, boy. Get her some food.”
“Yes, of course.”
Xander ran downstairs. Ten minutes later, he returned with a tray.
“Here,” he said, forcing a smile. “I brought you some soup. It’s your favorite. Shrimp bisque.”
I stared at the bowl. The pink, creamy liquid swirled ominously.
“Shrimp,” I said flatly.
“Yes, you love it,” he said, bringing a spoon to my lips. “Eat up. You need your strength.”
I pushed the spoon away.
“I’m allergic to shrimp, Xander.”
He froze. The spoon hovered in mid-air.
“What? No, you’re not. You order it all the time.”
“That’s Ria,” I said quietly. “Ria loves shrimp. I went into anaphylactic shock the last time, and you left me, remember?”
Silence stretched between us. He looked at the soup, then at me, realization dawning on his face. He didn’t even know what could kill me.
“Do you really love me?” I asked.
I looked him dead in the eye. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see the lie one last time.
“Of course,” he said quickly, putting the bowl down on the nightstand with a clatter. “Of course I do. I just… I’m stressed. I forgot. I’m sorry.”
I smiled. It was a sad, final smile.
“Well, yeah. Good to know.”
He checked his watch again. He was vibrating with anxiety.
“Look, I… I can’t stay,” he said, standing up. “I need to do something business… related. Before the merger meeting. Some last-minute details.”
“Business,” I repeated.
“Yes. But tomorrow… or later today… you need to meet them and get those papers signed. Got it?” He pointed a finger at me, his mask slipping. “You need to be ready.”
“I will be,” I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Fine.”
He grabbed his jacket and stormed out.
The moment the front door slammed, I sat up. The sickness vanished.
My burner phone buzzed. It was the butler.
“He picked her up, Miss Lyanna,” the gravelly voice said. “They are at the OB-GYN clinic on 4th Street. He’s holding her hand.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thank you.”
Another buzz. A text from Van: Everything is ready. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Tomorrow. Yes. I closed my eyes and took a rest. Xander didn’t even bother coming back, just texted me to come to the merger tomorrow. When I asked my butler, he told me Xander was buying baby clothes for his child with Ria. They didn’t even know the gender yet.
It was to my advantage because I easily left the house.
The next day, I was standing on the deck of a private yacht, the wind whipping my hair across my face. The coastline was fading into the distance.
I was heading to a private island in the Maldives. Van was waiting there.
My phone rang.
I looked at the screen. Hubby.
I answered.
“Where are you?!” Xander’s voice was frantic. I could hear the murmur of a crowd in the background. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago.The investors will come in an hour. You already postponed yesterday and you promised today!”
I leaned against the railing, watching the white foam of the waves.
“I’m sorry, Xander,” I said, my voice light and breezy. “I can’t make it. I’m feeling really… detached.”
“Detached? What the hell does that mean? Get in the car! I’ll send a driver!”
“No need,” I said. “But if you want… how about you come home now? And get the signed papers there?”
“Home?” He sounded confused. “You signed them?”
“Yes,” I lied. “Your grandpa sent the papers and said I can just sign it without coming. They’re on the vanity. Along with a surprise gift for the merger and advance anniversary. Why don’t you go get them? And then… maybe we can go on our honeymoon after?”
“Oh! Oh, sure! Sure, honey! Great. I’m leaving now! I’ll be there in twenty minutes! You’re the best, Lyanna! I knew I could count on you!”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said. “Bring me a strawberry cake, please.”
“Okay, bye! Love you!”
“Sure,” I said. “Bye… forever.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear.
I looked at it one last time.
Then, I wound up my arm and threw it as hard as I could.
It spun through the air, glinting in the sunlight, before splashing silently into the deep blue sea.
