Chapter 2
I couldn't stay at the hospital. The sterile rooms made me feel like I was being kept in a cage, and the quiet was somehow worse than the pain. I needed to see Adrian for myself. I needed to stand in front of him and find out whether the man I had heard plotting my death in that hospital room was truly my husband.
I pulled my coat tightly around my battered body, biting back a wince when the fabric caught against my stitches. The night was bitterly cold, but the chill in the air was nothing compared to the emptiness spreading through my chest.
The moment the taxi stopped outside the estate, I knew something was wrong.
The house was blazing with light.
Luxury cars filled the driveway, belonging to the same people we called friends. Music spilled through the open windows, some cheerful jazz number that felt almost obscene against the grief still tearing me apart.
A party.
My baby was dead. I had nearly died myself only weeks ago, and Adrian was hosting a celebration?
I pushed open the massive oak doors.
The sound of laughter greeted me first. The foyer was crowded with guests holding champagne, their faces bright with the kind of happiness that made my stomach turn.
“Happy birthday, Adrian!” someone called from the adjoining room.
His birthday.
Of course.
I stepped into the light, still wearing the hospital bracelet around my wrist, my face bare and pale beneath the harsh glow of the chandelier.
The conversations gradually faded.
Then the music stopped.
Every face turned toward me.
Adrian stood beside the fireplace with a glass of scotch in his hand, while his other arm rested comfortably around Vanessa's waist.
She was wearing my favorite red dress.
The instant Adrian saw me, all the color disappeared from his face. His fingers went slack, and the glass slipped from his hand before breaking against the marble hearth.
“Serena?”
His voice barely made it past his throat.
I let the silence stretch before giving him a faint smile.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
I walked farther into the room, and the guests instinctively moved aside, watching me as though I had somehow returned from the dead.
Vanessa covered her mouth with both hands, her expression transforming into exaggerated shock.
“Serena, you're here. Oh my God, we thought you were—”
“Dead?” I finished for her.
Her expression faltered.
Adrian recovered first. “What are you doing here?”
I stopped a few steps away from him.
“Where else should I be? This is my house, Adrian, and apparently it's also the setting for my husband's birthday celebration.”
A nervous murmur moved through the room.
Mrs. Beaumont stared at me over the rim of her glass. “Good heavens, Serena. You look dreadful. We heard there had been some terrible accident.”
Another guest spoke up before anyone could stop her.
“Your baby—is the baby all right?”
The question settled over the room.
I saw Adrian's jaw tighten. His eyes met mine, and the warning in them was unmistakable. Whatever happened next, he expected me to protect his reputation and play along.
He turned toward the guests with a carefully constructed smile.
“We were told Serena was in critical condition,” he explained. “There was a possibility she wouldn't survive, so naturally, we were preparing ourselves for the worst.”
“I survived,” I said, keeping my eyes fixed on him. “Apparently, I'm harder to kill than everyone thought.”
Vanessa immediately hurried toward me and caught both my hands.
“Thank God, Serena! We were terrified. I've been crying practically all night.”
I glanced down at her fingers wrapped around mine before meeting her eyes.
“You must have recovered quickly. You even had enough time to change into my dress.”
Her smile stiffened.
“I didn't have anything suitable to wear. I came as soon as I heard about the accident, and I—”
“Serena needs to rest.”
Adrian's interruption was sharp enough to silence her.
He came toward me, seized my arm, and forced a smile toward the watching crowd.
“I'm sorry, everyone. My wife is clearly still disoriented. She needs to lie down.”
His fingers dug painfully into my arm as he guided me toward the stairs.
I didn't resist.
Not until we reached the master bedroom.
Adrian shoved the door closed behind us, and the instant the latch clicked into place, the pleasant expression disappeared from his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. “You were supposed to remain in the hospital.”
“So I could die there?”
He stopped.
Only for a moment, but I saw it.
His eyes narrowed before his expression hardened again.
“Don't be ridiculous. The doctors were treating you.”
“Is that what you call it?”
A laugh escaped me, but there was no humor in it.
“I heard you, Adrian. I heard exactly what you told the doctor. You wanted him to make sure I didn't wake up.”
His expression didn't change.
“You were drugged and barely conscious. You were probably hallucinating.”
He waved away my accusation as if it were nothing.
“Look at you. You storm into my birthday party looking like this and make a spectacle in front of the board. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”
“Humiliating?”
My voice rose.
“Our child is dead, Adrian. Your child!”
His face twisted.
“And whose fault is that?”
I stared at him.
“What did you just say?”
“If you hadn't been careless, none of this would have happened!” he shouted. “You were standing right beside the chandelier. You couldn't even manage to keep yourself safe.”
He jabbed a finger toward me.
“Do you understand what you've done? My grandfather is furious. The trust fund was tied to an heir, and now I have to explain why his great-grandchild is dead because its mother couldn't even watch where she was standing!”
I felt something inside me go completely still.
“So that's what this is about?”
My voice dropped to a whisper.
“The money?”
“It's bigger than money, Serena. It's my inheritance, my position, the company. Everything I've spent years building!”
He paced across the room, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Do you think I married you for love? I married you because I needed an heir. I tolerated everything about you because there was supposed to be something worthwhile at the end of it.”
My stomach twisted.
“And I failed you.”
“Yes.”
He didn't hesitate.
“You had one responsibility, Serena.”
I repeated the word quietly. “Responsibility.”
“To give me a child.”
He stopped pacing and looked directly at me.
“Now you're incapable of having one. You're injured, you're barren, and you're completely useless to me. Tell me, what exactly am I supposed to do with you now?”
The words hurt.
They should have destroyed me.
Instead, something strange happened.
The pain in my chest began to settle, and with it came a clarity I hadn't felt in weeks. My tears dried. My trembling stopped.
I looked at Adrian and saw the man I had loved for three years—the man I had defended whenever my family questioned him, the man I had trusted enough to build my entire future around, the man I had nearly died trying to save.
And suddenly, there was nothing left inside me for him.
I smiled.
It wasn't the smile of a heartbroken wife. It was quiet, almost gentle, and far colder than anger could ever have been.
“You're right, Adrian.”
He stared at me, clearly unsettled by my sudden composure.
“What?”
“I can't give you an heir anymore. Our child is gone, and I'm no longer useful to you.”
I slipped the wedding ring from my finger and held it in my palm.
For three years, I had thought of it as a promise.
Now it felt like a chain.
I placed it on the nightstand between us.
“So there's no reason for you to keep me around.”
I met his eyes.
“Divorce me, Adrian. If I'm truly that useless, then do it now.”