3

3

~Velma’s POV

I woke up feeling like my body had been carved out of exhaustion, heavy and unwilling to move, and even though the morning light was already creeping across the room, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, pretending for a few seconds that nothing was waiting for me, but then I heard the soft rustle of clothes, the clink of a belt buckle, and the quiet footsteps that told me Dylan was getting ready for work.

He didn’t bother turning toward me when he spoke.

 “Get up and get dressed,” he said, his voice cool, like he hadn’t spent last night tearing me apart.

“The driver will take you to the station. Don’t be late.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t even blink. I just kept staring at the ceiling because if I looked at him, I wasn’t sure what would come out of my mouth.

He waited for a second, maybe two, but when he realized I wasn’t going to give him anything, he simply walked out, closing the door in that firm way.

It took a while before I finally pushed myself up. My head felt foggy, my chest felt tight, and every breath seemed to carry the memory of his words from last night. I rubbed my face and whispered Lira’s name, and she came rushing in immediately, like she had been standing outside the whole time waiting for a signal.

“Madam, good morning,” she said softly, and I could see the worry in her eyes.

 I cleared my throat. “Please… make me something light. Maybe tea. I don’t think I can handle anything heavy.”

She hesitated, and that was my first warning that something wasn’t right.

 “Madam…” she said quietly. “Miss Eva is here. She’s in the living room. With… with your mother-in-law.”

 My heart jerked like someone had yanked it with a hook.

“What?” I asked, already swinging my legs out of bed. “Why is that bitch here? At this hour?”

Lira didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. I already knew it wasn’t for anything good.

 I stood up, straightened my night robe a little, wiped under my eyes, and forced my breath to calm before walking out. As I approached the living room, I pasted a smile on my face, one I didn’t feel, not even a little.

“Good morning, Mother,” I said, lifting my chin gently as I stepped in.

She didn’t even return the smile. She just gave me that look she always gave, the one that told me I was an irritation she tolerated only because she had to. She folded her arms and looked away.

Then my eyes fell on Eva, sitting comfortably on the couch, crossing her legs like she lived here, her lips curled into that smug smile I had known all my life.

My smile dropped immediately.

“Why are you here?” I asked quietly, looking right at Eva.

She stood up slowly, enjoying every second of the moment, and she handed me a brown file as if she were giving me a gift.

 “Here,” she said, her smile widening.

I frowned and took the file. “What is this?”

 “Open it,” she replied, sounding almost excited.

I opened it, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe.

 It was a divorce paper. Freshly printed. Already stamped.

I looked up at her, then at my mother-in-law, and then back at the paper.

 “You must be insane,” I said, my voice trembling even though I tried to steady it. “You actually came to my house to give me a divorce paper? Are you mad?”

I barely finished speaking when a slap cut across my face so fast and so hard my ears rang.

 My mother-in-law stood there, palm still lifted, her eyes blazing.

“How dare you raise your voice at Eva?” she snapped. “A defective, barren woman like you should know her place.”

My chest burned as I held my cheek.

 “Mother…” I whispered, stunned. “Why would you…”

She stepped closer. “I have always known you were a mistake. It should have been Eva from the beginning. She is everything you are not. And she will become what you failed to be. Dylan’s wife. The mother of his children. This….” she pointed at the papers “will happen. Whether you like it or not.”

I stared at her, then at Eva, who was practically glowing with satisfaction.

Eva folded her arms. “Dylan wants this, too. In fact, he brought it up last night. I simply fast-tracked the process.”

Tears filled my eyes. “Last night? He… he only mentioned divorce last night. How did you even get papers printed and stamped by morning? That’s not possible.”

Eva laughed softly. “Money makes things very possible.”

I shook my head. “I’m not signing anything. And if something like this is to be done, it should come from my husband, not you.”

Eva smirked. “Oh, if you want it from him, then fine. Maybe this will help.”

 She placed her hand on her stomach, lightly, like she was touching something precious.

“I’m carrying Dylan’s child, Velma,” she said, her voice slow and cruel. “The child you couldn’t give him.”

For a moment, the room tilted.

 I grabbed the edge of the couch to steady myself.

 My eyes darted to my mother-in-law, who was also shocked for a second before her expression melted into joy. She rushed to Eva and pulled her into a hug.

“My daughter,” she whispered, stroking Eva’s hair. “Finally… finally someone has given my son and me what we truly deserve.”

“No,” I whispered. “No. Eva, that’s not possible. That is a lie. Dylan will never cheat on me!”

She cut me off by pulling out her phone and holding the screen up to my face. A video started playing. It was dark, grainy, but painfully clear enough. Dylan was on a bed, and Eva was beside him. His arm around her.

“Does this make you believe?” she asked softly, savoring every word.

I staggered back, shaking my head over and over.

 “Eva,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “What did you do?”

She just smiled, like the devil dressed in silk.

“Velma,” she said softly, leaning slightly toward me, “if you know what’s best for yourself, if you know what will save you from more pain, you will just sign these papers and leave.”

I stood there, trembling, as Eva pressed the papers into my hands, her fingers holding mine tightly, refusing to let me pull away. Her smile was sharp, almost polite, as she whispered, “I’ll do you the honor of submitting this for you, Velma. Just sign it.” My throat burned, tears sliding down my cheeks, but I felt trapped, her grip unrelenting, forcing my hand to the pen as if my resistance meant nothing.

Then my mother-in-law’s voice thundered through the room, sharp and merciless. She yelled at the maids to pack my things, to throw everything out, to make sure I left immediately. Boxes were shoved around, drawers emptied, my life dismantled before my eyes like a cruel movie I couldn’t escape. I wanted to scream, to fight, to vanish, but all I could do was cry, my heart breaking as they took everything from me in that single, devastating moment.