I froze. Today shouldn’t have been that time of the month.
Then it hit me—I hadn’t had my period in three months. Ever since that night… my health had deteriorated, and irregular cycles had become the norm.
I looked up at Justin, but Cecilia suddenly shrieked, "Iris! You’re bleeding!"
The world spun. I collapsed.
When I woke again, I caught fragments of a hushed conversation outside the door.
"Justin, your wife is pregnant. The excessive blood draw nearly caused a miscarriage."
My hand instinctively moved to my stomach.
This unexpected life was like a beam of light in the darkness, stirring a fragile ember of hope in my ashen heart.
"Schedule an abortion." Justin’s voice cut through the door like ice. "This child cannot stay."
I clenched my eyes shut, fingers twisting the sheets.
When the room finally fell silent, I mustered all my strength, threw off the covers, and stumbled toward the exit.
The hallway lights burned my eyes. I fell, got up, fell again—my knees scraped raw.
Just as I reached the hospital doors, a sharp pain exploded at the back of my neck.
Darkness swallowed me.
The cold metal of the operating table pressed against my skin. I tried to fight, but hands pinned me down as a needle slid into my arm.
When I opened my eyes again, the sterile stench of disinfectant flooded my senses. Justin sat by the bed, his expression conflicted.
"Iris." His voice was rough. "The baby… had to go."
I stared at him, unblinking.
"Cecilia’s condition…" He swallowed hard. "She might still need your blood. We can try for another child later."
I turned my face away, tears pooling but refusing to fall.
Lies. All of it. He just never wanted this child.
"There won’t be another." My whisper barely left my lips. "Never again…"
"What did you say?" He leaned closer.
His phone rang—Cecilia’s voice chirped through the speaker. "Justin, Orlando isn’t here. Could you take me for a walk downstairs?"
"I’ll be back soon." His coat brushed my arm as he left, trailing cold air behind him.
Alone, I let the tears fall.
On my discharge day, Justin mysteriously promised a "surprise."
The moment we stepped through the front door, blaring music assaulted my ears.
"Cecilia forgave you for the poisoning incident," Justin murmured, arm snug around my waist. "She even threw this party for you."
Cecilia sauntered over in stilettos—just as friends pulled Justin away for drinks.
"Cecilia," I hissed, "I never poisoned you. What do you want?"
Her lips curled. "Iris, did you actually believe you were Mrs. Porter?"
She leaned in, her breath hot against my ear. "That marriage certificate? Fake."
My blood turned to ice.
The day we "married," Justin had held me tight, vowed no one would ever hurt me again. Even that was a lie.
"Still don’t understand your place?" Cecilia’s smile sharpened.
Then—
"Don’t push me!"
She grabbed my wrist and yanked us both into the pool.
Water swallowed me whole. Through the chlorine burn, I saw two figures dive—not for me, but for Cecilia.
I sank, lungs screaming, as the surface glittered further away.
