CHAPTER 4

EUDORA

I believed I could live and die with the secrets of what really happened that night between Desmond and me a month ago, but the two pink lines on the pregnancy stick in my shaky fingers mocked me.

My knees wobbled, my hands trembling as I slid down the cold toilet tiles, cradling my head as my heart hammered loudly in my chest.

"This can't be happening," I muttered under my breath. "I can't be pregnant…" not for a man who loathes my existence.

What will be of my child? He or she, whatever gender it ends up being might either grow up with Desmond's hate, or my child will be taken away from me.

"You have to think of something, Eudora," I whispered under my breath.

Sucking in a deep breath, I got off the floor, stared at my reflection through the wall mirror, staring deeply into my cold soulless eyes.

The emptiness that stared back at me stemmed from years of fighting for an existence, but ended up shrinking deeper and deeper into that of my sister's.

"I need some time off," I muttered. "I need some time away from this toxic environment." That is the only way I can be able to think of a solution to this news.

Wiping off my tears, I wrapped the pregnancy stick in a tissue, then shoved it into my back pocket before heading out.

Just as I pulled the door to my bedroom open, I bumped into Desmond in the hallway, heading to his room.

He halted, staring at me closely with drawn brows. "Have you been crying?"

Should that even be a question? Is there any day that goes by that I don't shed a tear? "I was on my way to meet you."

He arched a brow.

"I need to go away for a while."

He blinked slowly at me before chuckling. "You expect me to give you my money so you can go on a vacation and have fun?"

Fun? Does that word even exist in my life?

He took a step closer, his jaw tightening. "It seems you have forgotten the sole purpose of this marriage." He snatched my jaw abruptly and pulled me closer, his fingers biting into my skin. "Do I have to fucking remind you that this marriage is your version of hell? Your very own prison?"

More tears rolled down my cheeks. "I just need to breathe!"

Smirking, he reached out and wiped a tear with his thumb, smearing it all over his thumb. "Seeing this on your face makes me so happy," he muttered, his smile widening. "For a moment, I thought I wasn't treating you badly enough."

"Please…" I pleaded, "Just a few days is enough."

He shoved me away roughly. "If you are feeling down, take a look at Camellia's picture which is in your room, you’ll recall just how you ruined her life, that way you will know that the fact you have breath and freedom is a blessing."

"Sir?"

His entire body tightened at the sound of Laura, our housekeeper's voice.

"Your parents are here for dinner.”

“Tell them I’ll be down shortly.”

Sniffing, Desmond pinched the bridge of his nose, cleared his throat, and turned his attention back to me. "Let this be the last time you bring something like this to me. Wipe your face and look presentable, I don't want the staff gossiping."

He turned to go meet his parents, but Laura's words stopped him yet again.

"They are asking for both of you."

"What?" Desmond blurted, "My parents want to have dinner with Eudora too?”

Laura nodded.

He waved her off before turning to me. "Don't meet my parents looking like a soaked panda. Wipe your face, fix your makeup, then come down with the biggest smile you can wear."

Makeup my ass.

Turning, I walked back into my bedroom, grabbed a face wipe, and wiped my face of any kind of makeup.

I threw my hair into a messy bun to bring more life to my face before walking out of the room to meet my supposed in-laws.

***************

That was the last time I saw my husband.

Two weeks have passed since I ran into him in the hallway, and in those two weeks, he has made himself scarce, like a man running from something he cannot face.

Before that one night stand, we would cross paths occasionally in the hallway, exchanging nothing more than silence and cold glances. But now, even that has stopped. He avoids coming home altogether, avoids my calls, ignores my messages, anything that might force him to stand in front of me and remember what happened between us.

Perhaps, in his mind, he has betrayed Camellia.

Perhaps that guilt is eating him alive, making it impossible for him to look at me without seeing his own mistake reflected back at him.

Whatever the case may be, his struggle is his to deal with.

I have mine.

And mine is growing inside me.

My hand unconsciously drifted to my stomach, pressing lightly against it.

I can’t keep this hidden, not for long. It has already been a month and two weeks. The truth is no longer something I can pretend away. And since nothing can be undone, the only thing left is to tell him… and accept whatever reaction follows.

But one thing is certain.

No one is taking my child away from me.

“I don’t think Mr. Desmond would want you at his office,” my driver said cautiously, his eyes flicking to me through the rearview mirror.

“I have something important to tell him.”

He hasn’t been home, hasn’t taken my calls, hasn’t replied to a single message.

This is the only option left.

Drawing in a deep breath, I pushed the car door open and stepped out. The moment I entered the building, heads turned, staff straightened, polite smiles followed me as I walked past.

To them, I am the CEO’s beloved wife.

The perfect image.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime when I reached his floor. I stepped out, my eyes instinctively moving toward the receptionist’s desk, but it was empty.

Strange.

Still, I didn’t dwell on it. My focus was fixed on the large door at the end of the hallway, his office. The only office on this floor.

Reaching the door, I pushed it open gently, already forming an apology in my mind in case I was interrupting a meeting_

My steps faltered.

Time seemed to freeze.

Desmond.

My husband.

He stood close to his desk, locked in an intimate embrace with a woman seated on its edge. His lips were pressed against hers, kissing her hungrily. Her legs were parted to accommodate him, drawing him closer, while his hands held her waist, a prove he very much is enjoying the kiss.

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding coming home?”

They both jerked apart.

Two heads turned.

And then I saw her.

Those familiar green eyes.

That face I knew too well.

Her lips were slightly smudged, her expression caught somewhere between shock and something far more unapologetic.

My fingers loosened.

The brown envelope containing the pregnancy result slipped from my grasp, hitting the floor soundlessly as I staggered back.

No.

No, this couldn’t_

The woman who had just been in my husband’s arms…

The one who had haunted my life, my memories, my pain_

…was Camellia Dawson.

My sister.

And she seems to be using her legs just fine.