"No! Val, I'll die in there!"
The Summers Parents door slammed shut. Cold. Final.
The earthquake. I was twelve. Mom and Dad shielded me with their bodies as the world collapsed. I lay in that darkness for three days, watching them go still. Watching them start to smell.
I've had severe claustrophobia ever since.
Once, I got trapped in an elevator for just ten minutes. Val didn't wait for the rescue team—he pried the doors open with his bare hands, risking his life to pull my trembling body into his arms.
"Don't be scared, baby. I'm here. I'll never let you be trapped in the dark again."
Now I huddled in the corner of this pitch-black room, hugging my knees, tears streaming down my face like a broken string of pearls. Helpless. Hopeless.
Minutes later—or was it hours?—the door cracked open just wide enough for someone to toss in a bag.
Then it sealed shut again.
In the darkness, I heard the bag rustle.
Hissssss...
Something cold slithered up my leg.
I screamed, pounding on the door until my fists went numb. "Let me out! Val, there are snakes—please—ahhhh—"
Three days.
When the door finally opened, Val stood there staring at me—curled in the corner, shaking uncontrollably, barely conscious.
Something flickered in his eyes. Pain? Shock?
But his voice still dripped with that familiar arrogance.
"Have you learned your lesson?"
I nodded stiffly.
Yes. I was wrong.
I was wrong five years ago, the day I married you.
Satisfied, Val smiled and carefully lifted me into his arms. He bathed me himself, then brought hot porridge to my lips, spoon by spoon.
I swallowed mechanically. A puppet with its strings cut.
When the bowl was empty, he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a gift box. Inside lay a custom red gown, delicate butterfly wings embroidered across the bodice.
"Sweetheart, I was too angry before. I said things I shouldn't have." His thumb traced my cheek. "I've rearranged our third anniversary celebration. Let me make it up to you."
I wasn't given a choice. The maids dressed me like a doll.
Val had booked the most luxurious hotel in the city. The entire banquet hall was empty except for us—candlelight, champagne, a feast fit for royalty.
We'd barely sat down when his phone rang.
"I have to take this." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I'll be right back."
I stared at the elaborate dishes. My stomach churned. I pushed back my chair and stood—
A hand clamped over my mouth and nose from behind.
"Bitch." A man's voice, ragged with hatred. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have lost everything. My career. My family. If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me."
My eyes went wide. I thrashed, bit down hard on the flesh of his palm.
He howled in pain—then drove his fist into my stomach.
I crumpled to my knees. Agony ripped through my lower abdomen, white-hot and blinding.
He kicked me onto my back, grabbed a knife from the table, and aimed it at my heart.
This is it.
Despair washed over me like freezing water.
Then—chaos. Bodyguards flooded the room, slamming the man to the ground.
Through the blur of shouting and pounding footsteps, Val shoved through the crowd and pulled me into his arms.
"Are you all dead?!" he roared at his men. "This is how you protect my wife?!"
I curled against his chest.
And let the darkness take me.
When I woke, Hazel's voice drifted in from outside the hospital room door. Bright. Excited.
"Val, you're so smart! Making Renee wear the exact same dress as me and leaking the hotel location—that's the only reason you were able to lure that blacklisted paparazzo out of hiding. Otherwise, I'd be the one lying in there."
"As long as you and the baby are safe."
So that's what it was.
I lay motionless, a hollow laugh escaping my throat.
Not compensation. Not guilt.
I was just the decoy. The shield.
Because Hazel needed one.
The door swung open. Val walked in, his face arranged into perfect concern, and reached for my hand—
"Sweetheart, this is all my fault. I failed to protect you."
I felt nothing. Just a hollow, bone-deep exhaustion.
He paused for two seconds, then shifted gears. "Hazel's being dragged online because you exposed her pregnancy. She's a student I sponsored—I can't just stand by and watch."
"And?"
"I'm going to hold a wedding with her. Shut down the backlash."
I stared at him, the absurdity almost laughable. "Then what about me?"
His brow furrowed with irritation. The guilt in his eyes faded, replaced by self-righteous accusation. "If you hadn't been so jealous of Hazel—spreading those rumors online—would I need to resort to this? I already agreed to raise whatever bastard you're carrying. What more do you want? If Hazel weren't so gracious, you'd be lying on a prison cot right now."
The door slammed behind him.
I didn't even have the strength left to be angry.
I closed my eyes. When the doctor walked in, I spoke without opening them.
"Schedule the termination."
After the procedure, I placed what remained of my child into a small urn.
I tucked a divorce agreement inside the medical notification folder. Added a voice recorder. Handed the package to a courier.
Then I took a cab to the airport.
On the terminal's massive screen, Val and Hazel's lavish wedding played on loop.
I'd stood by him when he had nothing. All I ever got was a marriage certificate.
The grand wedding he'd once promised me—now he was giving it to another woman.
I looked away. My gaze was steady. Empty.
I boarded the international flight.
Val Gilbert. From this day forward, we live under different skies. I never want to see you again.
