Chapter two

Helen's POV

“HIV?”

The word hung in the air like a thick, poisonous fog. I felt the blood drain from my face, leaving me cold and hollow. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even blink.

“Doctor, is this a joke?” My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was thin, high-pitched, and trembling with a panic I couldn't suppress. “It has to be a mistake. Check the name again. Please, check the name.”

The doctor sighed, a sound of heavy professional weariness. He didn't look away. “Mrs. Whitmore, I wish I were joking. But the Human Immune Virus was detected in your blood sample. We ran the test twice to be absolutely sure.”

He leaned forward, his hands clasped on the desk. “We have to place you on medication with immediate effect. It’s important we start managing this right away.”

I felt like the floor had opened up beneath me. I was falling, spiraling into a dark, bottomless pit. I raised my trembling hands to my head, gripping my hair as if I could hold my brain together before it shattered.

“I’m finally doomed,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat. “What have I done to myself? Oh, Leo… Leo, what have you done?”

I thought of all the times I had smelled another woman’s perfume on his skin. All the times I had found lipsticks in his car or seen the messages on his phone. I thought of the hot slaps and the beatings whenever I dared to ask for protection. I had traded my health for a "comfortable" life, and now, the bill had come due.

“Mrs. Whitmore, please, calm down,” the doctor said, though his voice sounded like it was coming from miles away. “This is not the time for a breakdown. You have to stay calm for the sake of your health.”

He stood up and walked around the desk, handing me a glass of water. I couldn't even reach for it. My fingers wouldn't move.

“Look at the bright side,” he continued, trying to be encouraging, though his words felt like salt in a fresh wound. “There is maintenance for it now. You can live a long life as long as you are consistent with your drugs. But... it is a sickness you will carry to your grave. There is no cure, Helen.”

I choked on a sob. To my grave. I was twenty-six years old.

“My candid advice,” the doctor added, his tone turning stern, “Don't get pregnant again. It’s too risky. And you must be extremely careful to avoid blood contact with other people. Do you understand?”

I nodded numbly, though I didn't truly hear him. My mind was stuck on the word "grave."

“You can meet the nurse outside,” he said, dismissively now. “She will walk you through the process, give you your first month’s supply, and explain the schedule.”

I tried to stand up, but my legs felt like lead. They were heavy, disconnected from my body. I swayed, a wave of dizziness washing over me, and for a second, I thought I would collapse right there on the clinic floor. My vision was a blur of white walls and clinical lights, drowned out by the hot tears streaming down my face.

I should have listened to Betty. She had seen this coming. She had warned me that Leo’s lifestyle wasn't just an insult to our marriage—it was a threat to my very existence. From monthly infections to HIV. A life-long sentence.

The walk to the pharmacy section was a blur. The nurse spoke to me, her lips moving, explaining dosages and side effects, but I just nodded and took the brown paper bag she handed me. I tucked it deep into my handbag, hiding it like a shameful secret.

The drive home was the coldest experience of my life. Even though the French sun was beating down on the car, I was shivering. My driver, a quiet man who had seen too many of my tears over the years, didn't say a word.

He just glanced at me once in the rearview mirror and then kept his eyes on the road.

I sat in the back seat, curled into a ball, sobbing silently. Every bump in the road felt like a hit. Leo had finally done it. He hadn't just broken my heart; he had poisoned my blood. The "gutter" he claimed to have rescued me from felt like a paradise compared to the hell he had brought me into.

When we pulled into the driveway of our magnificent mansion, I didn't want to get out. I hated this house. I hated the expensive furniture, the gold-rimmed mirrors, and the king-sized bed where my husband brought his filth.

I made it inside and collapsed onto the sofa in the living room. The house was quiet—the children were out with the nanny, thank God. I couldn't face them yet. I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and dialed the only person I could trust.

“Hello, my love! What's up?” Betty’s cheerful voice pierced through my dark world.

“Betty,” I gasped out, my voice breaking. “Please... please come over. Now.”

The cheerfulness vanished instantly. “Helen?

What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Betty, please... just come.”

“I’m coming. I’m on my way.”

I hung up and threw the phone onto the rug. I sat there, staring at nothing, the weight of the brown paper bag in my purse feeling like a mountain.

In less than fifteen minutes, I heard the screech of tires outside. Betty burst through the front door, not even waiting for the maid to open it. She found me huddled on the chair, my eyes swollen and red, my face a mask of pure agony.

“Helen! What is it?” She rushed to my side, dropping her keys on the table. “Don’t tell me you’re crying over that silly husband of yours again. I thought you were used to his nonsense by now. Did he call you from his trip? Did he say something?”

I couldn't look at her. I just reached into my bag and pulled out the folded piece of paper from the clinic. I pushed it toward her on the coffee table.

“Betty... I am HIV positive.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Betty froze, her hand halfway to my shoulder. She stared at me, her mouth hanging open.

“God forbid!” she suddenly shouted, snapping out of her shock. “I reject it for you! I reject it for your enemies! Helen, tell me this is a joke. Tell me you’re playing a prank.”

“It’s true, Betty,” I whispered. I pointed to the paper. “Read it. The doctor... he told me. I have the drugs in my bag.”

Betty grabbed the paper and scanned it, her eyes darting back and forth. As she read, her face shifted from disbelief to a look of absolute, soul-crushing fury.

“Ahhh, Helen!” she cried out, slamming the paper back onto the table. “I warned you! I begged you! I told you to leave that lunatic before he destroyed you! But no, you wouldn't listen. You told me to think about the children. You told me about your family’s background. Now look! See what you’ve done to yourself!”

She started pacing the room, her voice rising with every word. “How will your children cope now? What happens if you get sick? That monster has used his money to buy your life, and you let him!”

I listened to her, and for the first time in eight years, the sadness began to burn away. In its place, a cold, hard ember of rage began to glow. She was right. He had bought my silence. He had used my family’s poverty as a chain to keep me tied to a sinking ship.

“Betty,” I said. My voice wasn't shaking anymore. It was plain and cold.

“What?” she snapped, stopping her pacing to look at me.

“Enough is enough,” I said, and this time, I said it louder. I stood up, wiping the tears from my face with the back of my hand. The dizziness was gone, replaced by a clarity I hadn't felt since I was eighteen.

“Betty, how old am I again?”

She blinked, confused by the sudden change in my demeanor. “You’re... you’re twenty-six, Helen.”

“Twenty-six,” I repeated. I looked at my reflection in the massive gold-rimmed mirror across the room. I looked tired, yes. I looked broken. But I was still young. I still had blood in my veins, even if it was tainted.

“I’m twenty-six years old,” I said, turning back to her. My eyes were narrow, and for the first time in a long time, there was a spark in them that didn't come from tears.

“Leo thinks he’s the only one who knows how to play a game. He thinks because he took me from the 'gutter,' I’ll die in his palace. Well, he’s wrong.”

I picked up the test result and folded it neatly, tucking it back into my bag alongside the medication.

“I know exactly what to do now,” I said. “He wanted to give me a life-long gift? Fine. But he’s going to find out that a woman with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous thing he’s ever encountered.”