Chapter 4

When I stepped inside, the living room was empty.

Only a bunch of roses sat on the coffee table, and beside them, two marriage certificates that stabbed at my eyes.

It felt like a knife driving into my heart, over and over.

I stood frozen in the doorway for a moment before I made myself walk in.

I picked them up. There, in plain black and white, were the names Milton and Maud.

The registration date was this morning.

A ridiculous little laugh escaped me.

The man who, just yesterday, had suggested we go register our own marriage.

And now, without a flicker of feeling, he had registered a marriage with another woman.

Milton had ground my dignity into the dust.

He heard the noise and came out of the bedroom, then went rigid the second he saw me.

"Vonnie, why are you back?"

His eyes dropped, landing on the certificates in my hand, and he stayed silent a long time before he began to confess.

"Maud's pregnant. That night, on our anniversary last month, you and I fought and you left first. Maud came to find me, and we both drank too much."

"This morning she started gagging out of nowhere. We went to the hospital and found out."

"Yvonne, she's not as strong as you. And I can't let the child be born a bastard, so I went and registered this morning."

An enormous absurdity closed over me, and it was a long moment before I could force the words out.

"So my child, that one can be a bastard?"

Milton seemed to catch the edge in my voice. He sighed.

"Once the child is born, we'll transfer it under Maud's name. Then it won't count as a bastard."

"Yvonne, even if Maud and I have registered, you're still the one I love. Nothing between us has to change. You've always been sensible. You'll understand."

Seven years together, and in the end, Milton could wound me without the slightest fear of consequence.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth and asked him, absurdly.

"Nothing has to change, meaning you want me to be your dirty little secret, your mistress?"

Milton went quiet again. After a while, he spoke, his voice hoarse.

"Your mother was the other woman once. This shouldn't be that hard for you to accept."

I froze on the spot, my whole body starting to tremble.

My mother had been tricked into a marriage and made into the other woman. That was the wound of her entire life.

And the childhood I would spend my whole life trying to heal.

I had never imagined that scar would be torn open by the man I'd loved for seven years, in a tone so utterly careless.

I raised my hand and slapped Milton across the face.

Maud heard the commotion and came out of the bedroom.

The sight of it sent her into a sudden frenzy.

She slapped me hard across the face.

Then she lunged, clawing at me, screaming for me to apologize.

My body kept slamming into the corner of the shoe cabinet, and white light burst behind my eyes.

Right after, a warm liquid slid down the inside of my thigh.

The color drained from my face, bit by bit.

But Milton didn't notice a single thing wrong with me.

He gathered the hysterical Maud into his arms, frantic.

When he looked at me, his eyes were full of weary reproach.

"Yvonne, you know Maud has depression. Why would you provoke her?"

In that instant, all that was left inside me was dead silence.

My only thought was that everything tied to Milton, I wanted none of it.

The room spun. I forced myself to turn and walk away.

Blood spread across the floor behind me, and I collapsed, wrung out, onto the ground.

Before I blacked out completely, I used the last of my strength to dial 911.

When I woke again in the hospital, I turned my head weakly, a ventilator over my face.

My mother looked at me, wiping away tears that wouldn't stop.

I gave her a rough, watered-down version of what had happened between me and Milton.

She was frantic with grief, nearly rising to her feet to go settle the score with Milton.