Chapter 2

I turned my head to avoid his hand.

Les Stephens froze for a moment, then broke into a smile.

"Are you still upset that I brought someone home without talking to you first?"

Three days ago, I'd told Les that I had made up my mind—I wanted to use our frozen embryo to have a child.

After all, I was already thirty-five this year.

I wanted to build a family with Les as soon as I could.

But after he heard me out, he patted my back gently and said, "Don't worry, leave everything to me."

That very night, he brought home a young girl, Vanessa Larson.

I asked him softly, "Les, if I have to hand off even the childbearing to someone else, am I still the child's mother?"

But Les didn't take it to heart.

"Cynthia, you have a heart condition. The doctors said it isn't safe for you to have a child. I'm doing this for your sake too."

Just like now, seeing how awful I looked.

Les sighed and coaxed me, the same as before.

"Cynthia, since it's your frozen embryo we're using, of course you're the child's only mother."

"I've pulled you back from the brink so many times. Your body is too weak. I really can't take the risk of losing you."

"So this once, just listen to me, all right?"

He sounded so heartfelt and sincere.

His eyes even reddened a little.

If I hadn't heard it with my own ears last night, I probably would have thrown myself into his arms and apologized again.

I lowered my head and ate my porridge.

"So the embryo—did you tell her about it?"

When Les heard that I'd finally given in, his tone lightened.

"I did. In a few days I'll take her in for the embryo transfer."

I set down my spoon. "She agreed?"

Les nodded. "Her family isn't well-off. I gave her a sum of money, and she jumped at it."

"Good."

Les visibly relaxed and hugged me from behind.

"I knew you were the most sensible one, Cynthia. Once the baby is born, the three of us will have a good life together."

I closed my eyes, laughing coldly inside.

Whose family of three, exactly?

For two weeks straight, Les left early and came back late, suddenly so busy.

He came home reeking of perfume.

Every time he saw me frown, he'd explain gently.

"It's Vanessa. She suddenly got faint at the sight of blood during her embryo transfer checkup today, so I carried her back."

"I must have brushed against her by accident."

I didn't expose his lie.

And of course Les had no idea that, right then, in the drawer of the coffee table, there sat a stack of photos a private investigator had just handed me.

They documented how, all month long, he'd been leaving early and going to Vanessa's apartment and coming home late.

His car would park downstairs at the building, and Vanessa would come running out and throw herself into his arms.

They were in the bedroom, on the balcony, in the bathtub...

Embracing, kissing.

I even had a recording saved on my phone.

Vanessa asking nervously, "Les, no protection again?"

"What's there to be scared of? Aren't we trying for a baby anyway?"

Every day I watched these, listened to these, like I was torturing myself.

I cried until my eyes were red and swollen.

Until that evening, when Les came back after claiming he'd been working late.

He looked wonderful, as if something had been nourishing him.

I pretended not to see the hickey on his neck.

"Les."

"You see Vanessa every day. She's younger and prettier than me. Could you ever fall for her?"

His hand paused as he loosened his tie.

Then he laughed out loud.

"Cynthia, what are you dreaming up all day long?"

"Isn't every time I see her all for our child's sake?"

"Her checkups, blood draws, ovulation shots—every one of them needs someone there with her. You're not well, so if I don't go, who will?"

He reached out and cupped my face, his thumb brushing beneath my eyes.

"Cynthia Sanchez, in this lifetime I'll only ever fall for you."

"What is Vanessa? Just a tool."

"Once she's carried the baby, she takes the money and goes. I have nothing to do with her."

I stared at his neck.

The hickey on the side of his neck was a glaring red.

"Then what's this?"

Les instinctively reached up to cover it, then made a show of casually lowering his hand.

"Last night I was waiting in the car for Vanessa's blood results and fell asleep against the headrest. Probably a mosquito bite."

He tapped my nose. "Is it because I haven't been around that you're overthinking things again?"

"I promised you—once I'm through this busy stretch, I'll spend real time with you."

That evening, I came out in a bath towel and undid it in front of Les.

Every other time he saw this, his eyes would light up and he'd pin me down, breathing hard.

"You know I can't resist you fresh out of the bath, and you tease me on purpose."

But now, he only glanced.

Then he frowned and wrapped the towel back around me.

"Honey, I've been really worn out these past few days. I'm just not in the mood. Another time, okay?"

I stared into his eyes. "You haven't touched me in a month."

Les's eyes shifted away.

"Work is squeezing me dry. I've got nothing left in me."

Someone else was doing the squeezing.

"Fine, I understand."

I turned and walked away. The truth was, tonight I was only testing him.

A man who was already filthy—I wouldn't touch him again.

Les shut the study door and video-called Vanessa inside, all warm words and tender concern.

And I dialed my lawyer directly. "Draft me a divorce agreement."