Ch: 4 The Woman He Chose.

​Nerissa’s POV

​"I really don't see why I have to be here, Malia, especially since Lysander has made it clear he only has eyes for one person on this trip," I said while I smoothed the fabric of my dress, sitting on the edge of the bed. Malia sighed and stepped closer, taking my hands in hers.

​"Please do it for me, Nerissa, because if the shareholders see him wandering around this resort opening with Seraphina while you're nowhere to be found, the scandal will be irreversible," she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly. I just nodded slowly, following her out to the yacht where the afterparty was being held.

​"You look like you're having fun, Lysander, I'm glad one of us is enjoying this forced public appearance," I muttered as I walked past him toward the bar, but he just tightened his grip on Seraphina.

​"Nobody forced you to come, Nerissa, so if you're going to stand there with that long face, you might as well have stayed in the hotel room," he snapped, turning his back on me. I felt a sharp cramp in my lower abdomen and gripped the edge of the bar, praying for the secret life growing inside me, but a deafening explosion suddenly rocked the entire vessel.

​The floor groaned and tilted violently, throwing guests across the deck while a wall of heat and smoke erupted from below. I was thrown backward, my side slamming into the metal railing with a force that knocked the wind out of me, and I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my stomach as a searing pain shot through my body.

​"Seraphina! Seraphina, where are you?" I heard Lysander scream through the chaos, and I looked up through the smoke to see him scrambling toward the edge of the boat where Seraphina had been tossed into the churning water.

​The yacht was sinking fast, and a small rescue boat pulled alongside us while the crew shouted through megaphones. "We can only take one right now, the weight limit is maxed with the equipment, we have to move fast or we all go down!" the lead rescuer yelled, pointing toward the ladder.

​Lysander reached the railing and looked back at me for a split second, his eyes landing on my pale face and the way I was doubled over in agony. But then Seraphina let out a choked cry from the water, and I watched the hesitation vanish from his eyes as he turned away without a word.

​"Help her! She's pregnant, she needs to go first!" Lysander yelled, diving into the water to haul Seraphina toward the rescue team while he completely ignored the fact that his legal wife was bleeding out on the deck. I watched him lift her into the arms of the rescuers, his face full of a frantic devotion.

​"Lysander, wait! Your wife is still up there!" one of the deckhands shouted, pointing toward me.

​"Just get the boat moving, she's safe on the deck for now!" Lysander barked back, his hands steadying Seraphina's shoulders as the rescue craft began to pull away.

​I lay there in the pouring rain, the cold water mixing with the blood on the deck, and I didn't try to find an excuse for him or tell myself he was just confused. I knew with a terrifying clarity that if I died right there on that sinking boat, Lysander wouldn't even look back to check if I was still breathing, because I was never the woman he chose.

​I don't know how I made it off that boat, but when I finally opened my eyes, the white ceiling of a hospital room was staring back at me. I tried to move, but my entire body felt like lead, and I felt a soft hand cover mine.

​"You're awake, thank God you're awake, Nerissa," Malia whispered, her eyes red and swollen from crying as she sat beside my bed.

​"Where is he, Malia? Is he in the hallway?" I asked, my voice barely a ghost of itself, though I already knew the answer before she even shook her head.

​"He's with her, Nerissa, she had some complications from the cold water and he hasn't left her bedside once," she said, her voice breaking as she looked down at my stomach. "The doctor told me everything, dear, he told me about the baby and how lucky we are that you didn't lose it during the fall."

​"Does Lysander know?" I asked, turning my head slightly toward the window.

​"No, the doctor only spoke to me, Lysander hasn't even come to this wing to ask for the charts," Malia admitted, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

​A cold, hard lump formed in my throat, and I looked at the wedding ring on my finger, the diamond glittering under the harsh fluorescent lights of the ward. I twisted the band and pulled it off my finger, placing the ring on the metal side table with a definitive click.

​"Tell your son he's finally free," I said, my voice as cold and flat as the stone on the table, and I watched Malia's face crumble in fear because she knew that when I walked out of this hospital, I was taking the Blackwood's future with me.