After my husband killed our son, he called me fat.

The house still smelled like Noah.

Amelia noticed it the moment she stepped out of her bedroom, and the realization hit her so hard she had to steady herself against the wall.

Strawberry shampoo.

Chocolate cereal.

The sweet powdery scent of the baby soap Noah still insisted on using even though he was already four years old and liked to complain that baths were “for babies.”

Her throat tightened painfully.

Every corner of the penthouse still carried traces of him, as though the apartment itself had refused to accept he was gone. Tiny sneakers lay abandoned near the staircase where he had kicked them off two nights before the accident. Crayons were scattered across the coffee table beside a half-finished coloring book. His little dinosaur cup still sat in the sink because Amelia couldn’t bring herself to wash away the faint fingerprints pressed against the plastic.

Three days.

It had only been three days since they buried him.

The thought hollowed her out all over again.

She stopped in the middle of the living room when her eyes landed on the red hoodie tossed carelessly over the couch. Noah’s favorite. The one with little rockets running down the sleeves.

For a moment, she simply stared at it.

Then her knees nearly gave out beneath her.

A broken sound escaped her throat before she could stop it. It wasn’t quite a sob anymore. Grief had worn those raw already. Now the pain felt quieter, deeper, like something slowly rotting inside her chest.

With trembling hands, she picked up the hoodie and pressed it against her face.

It still smelled like him.

That destroyed her completely.

A sob tore through her as she sank onto the floor clutching the fabric against her chest while her entire body shook violently.

“Mama! Faster!”

The memory came without warning.

Noah racing through the park with his little arms stretched wide toward her, his curls bouncing wildly as he laughed. The gap in his tiny smile. The way he used to call strawberries “strawbebbies.”

Amelia covered her mouth as another sound broke from her throat.

The apartment answered with silence.

No cartoons playing too loudly in the background.

No tiny footsteps running down the hallway.

No Noah.

Just emptiness so loud it physically hurt to breathe through.

Her phone vibrated beside her.

Daniel.

For one pathetic second, relief flooded her chest so quickly it almost hurt. Maybe he was finally coming home. Maybe the distance between them these past few days was simply grief swallowing them both whole.

Her fingers shook as she answered.

“Daniel?”

“I’m still at the office.”

The tiny spark of hope inside her vanished immediately.

“Oh.”

His voice sounded distracted. Coldly composed. As if speaking to her required effort he no longer wanted to give.

“I won’t be home tonight.”

Amelia closed her eyes briefly.

Again.

Ever since Noah died, Daniel barely came home anymore. When he did, he slept facing away from her. Left before sunrise. Avoided every conversation that involved their son.

At first she told herself people grieved differently.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

“Have you eaten?” she asked softly.

A pause followed before he sighed impatiently.

“I’m busy, Amelia.”

The words stung far more than they should have.

Before Noah died, Daniel used to call her in the middle of meetings just to ask if she missed him. Now even hearing her voice sounded like an inconvenience.

“I just…” Her throat tightened painfully. “I miss you.”

Silence stretched between them long enough to hurt.

Then he said flatly, “I have meetings.”

At nine o’clock at night.

Rain lashed softly against the windows while Amelia stared out at the dark city skyline beyond the glass.

“I could bring you dinner,” she offered quietly. “You barely touched anything after the funeral.”

“I said I’m busy.”

Then she heard it.

A woman laughing.

Low. Soft. Intimate enough that Amelia’s stomach twisted instantly.

She went completely still.

“Who’s there?”

Silence.

Then Daniel exhaled sharply like she was becoming exhausting.

“For God’s sake.”

Her grip tightened around the phone.

“What does that mean?”

“It means stop interrogating me.”

“I wasn’t interrogating—”

“You’re emotional right now.”

The sentence sliced straight through her.

Like grief had made her irrational.

Like losing their son had turned her into something difficult to tolerate.

The woman laughed again.

Closer this time.

A cold feeling settled slowly into Amelia’s chest.

“Daniel,” she whispered. “Who’s with you?”

“I have work to do.”

The line disconnected.

Amelia stared at the screen for several long seconds after the call ended.

Something inside her twisted painfully.

Not jealousy.

Dread.

Her eyes drifted toward the framed family photograph beside the television.

Daniel holding Noah on his shoulders.

Amelia smiling beside them.

Happy.

Whole.

The kind of family people envied.

Her chest hurt so badly she could barely breathe.

Ten minutes later, she was driving through the rain toward Carter Enterprises still wearing house slippers and clutching Noah’s hoodie tightly in one hand.

The city lights blurred through the windshield. Her wedding ring felt painfully heavy around her finger.

Maybe she was overthinking.

Maybe there really was a meeting.

Maybe grief was making her paranoid.

God, she wanted that to be true.

By the time she entered the building lobby, her hands were shaking so badly she nearly dropped her purse.

The receptionist looked startled to see her.

“Mrs. Carter…”

Amelia forced a weak smile. “Daniel forgot some files at home.”

The lie sounded thin even to her own ears.

The receptionist hesitated a second too long before nodding. “Mr. Carter is upstairs.”

Something about the woman’s expression made Amelia’s stomach sink further.

The executive floor was almost completely dark when the elevator doors opened. Only one office still had lights on.

Daniel’s.

Her pulse hammered painfully as she walked toward it.

Then she heard it.

A woman’s breathy laugh followed by Daniel’s low voice.

Amelia stopped outside the office doors.

No.

Please no.

Her hand trembled violently before she shoved the doors open.

The world inside shattered instantly.

Sophia Blake sat on top of Daniel’s desk in a tight black dress pushed halfway up her thighs. Daniel stood between her legs with one hand under her skirt and the other tangled in her hair while his mouth moved against her throat.

Nobody moved for a second.

Then Daniel looked up.

And instead of guilt or panic, annoyance crossed his face. Like she had interrupted an important meeting.

Sophia jerked backward immediately. “Oh my God—”

Daniel’s hand tightened lazily on her thigh before she could move away.

“Stay.”

The single word froze the room.

Amelia stared at him in disbelief while Sophia shifted uncomfortably.

“Daniel—”

“I said stay.”

His eyes returned calmly to Amelia.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

The words hit harder than the affair itself.

“You’re cheating on me,” Amelia whispered.

Daniel looked more irritated than ashamed.

“You picked a dramatic way to find out.”

The words barely registered.

Amelia stared at him as though her mind could no longer fully process what she was seeing.

Three days ago they buried their son.

Three days ago she kissed Noah’s cold forehead for the last time.

Three days ago Daniel held her while she collapsed against the coffin screaming that she wanted her baby back.

And now he was touching another woman like none of it had mattered.

Sophia slid awkwardly off the desk. “Maybe I should go—”

“No,” Daniel said sharply. “Stay.”

Amelia flinched.

The humiliation burned hotter now. Sharper. Intentional.

Daniel loosened his tie slowly before looking at Amelia with open exhaustion.

“You know what? Maybe this is better.”

Her lips trembled. “Better?”

“At least now you can stop acting confused about why our marriage died.”

The words slammed into her chest.

“Our son just—”

“Don’t.” His expression hardened instantly. “Don’t use Noah to manipulate me.”

Amelia physically recoiled.

“I’m manipulating you?”

“You’ve been emotionally suffocating me for years.”

Tears blurred her vision.

Daniel laughed softly without humor before dragging his eyes deliberately over her body.

“Jesus Christ, Amelia. Look at yourself.”

Her breathing stopped.

His gaze moved slowly over her body with deliberate cruelty, and suddenly she felt painfully aware of every inch of herself.

“As if losing Noah wasn’t already hard enough,” Daniel said bitterly. “Every time I came home, I had to look at…” He gestured vaguely toward her body. “This.”

Sophia shifted awkwardly beside the desk.

Amelia felt humiliation crawl beneath her skin.

“I only became this after I gave birth to our son. I have tried to lose the weight,” she whispered shakily.

Daniel scoffed.

“You always say that.”

“I did.” Her voice cracked. “The doctors said my hormones—”

“Oh, please. There’s always an excuse.”

Amelia’s stomach twisted violently.

The diets.

The gym memberships.

The appetite suppressants.

The nights she cried in bathroom mirrors after weighing herself.

None of it had mattered.

“You stopped being my wife after Noah was born,” Daniel continued coldly. “You became lazy. Fat. Ugly.”

Amelia stared at him in horror.

“And honestly?” His voice lowered. “Sometimes I look at you and understand exactly why this happened.”

Her heartbeat stuttered painfully.

“…What?”

Daniel held her gaze without an ounce of softness.

“That night, you were asleep upstairs while our son walked out of the house and got killed by a car.”

Amelia went completely white.

“No…”

“You slept through everything like some stupid fat log of wood.”

Tears spilled down her face instantly.

“Daniel, please—”

“If you weren’t so overweight, if you actually paid attention to your body instead of sleeping all the time, maybe Noah would still be alive.”

The room tilted violently around her.

“No,” she whispered again. “No, I locked the door…”

Daniel’s jaw tightened.

“Did you?”

Amelia froze.

Because suddenly she wasn’t sure anymore.

Grief had destroyed her memory of that night. She remembered putting Noah to bed. Remembered exhaustion swallowing her whole. Remembered waking up to screams outside.

But the lock—

Oh God.

What if she forgot?

“I can never forgive you for t hat night,” Daniel said coldly. “So yes. I cheated.”

Something inside Amelia shattered completely.

A broken sound left her throat as she covered her mouth with trembling hands.

Daniel watched her without mercy.

“You want to know the truth? Every time I touched another woman, it felt easier than coming home to the person responsible for my son’s death.”

Sophia looked disturbed now.

“Daniel…”

But Amelia barely heard her.

Because the guilt was already crawling back inside her chest like poison.

The same guilt that had been slowly suffocating her for the past three days.

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered brokenly.

Daniel’s expression never changed.

“That doesn’t change what happened. Now, get out!”

“Daniel… I'm sorry..” she sobbed.

But Daniel had turned his attention back to his mistress. Pulling her closer to himself, kissing her passionately, not minding how it broke his wife.