THREE

KEONA

I’ve been in love with Hardin Cromwell since the first time I set eyes on him the day I turned eighteen. But he only married me to fulfill his grandmother’s dying wish. 

Eight years ago, I rescued Elizabeth Cromwell, the matriarch of the Cromwell family, from a blazing house fire. And in return, she asked her grandson and the heir to the Cromwell fortune to marry me.

The first day I set eyes on Hardin, he’d just returned for vacation from Harvard business school. He was so gorgeous that for the first time in years, my heart fluttered at the sight of a man.

But on our wedding day, he looked me in the eyes and told me point blank; 

“Don’t make the mistake of falling in love with me, Keona Manchester. Take it from me, you’ll regret it.”

I should have listened to him and guarded my heart. But it was already too late.

After I birthed Cora, watching the cold-hearted man I once knew transform into a loving father made me fall even deeper.

Everything was going so well.

I was convinced that I could actually make him fall in love with me. 

Until Sophia Benett returned from London with her son, and Hardin once again forgot I existed.

It didn’t help that Sophia and Hardin had grown up together and attended Harvard together. It didn’t help that she suddenly developed a heart condition that demanded my husband’s attention 24/7.

And it sure as hell didn’t help that, a year ago, she closed down her flower shop and decided she wanted to work alongside Hardin at his company. 

For the past four years, I’ve watched my husband dote on his childhood sweetheart while neglecting the wife waiting for him at home.

Hardin never forgets Sophia’s birthday. I even found out two months ago that he personally plans a trip to a different country for her each year. 

He stays up until midnight just to be the first person to wish her a happy birthday. 

And me?

I’m lucky if he even remembers to come home on my birthday.

If I get hurt, Hardin sends his doctors. But if Sophia gets hurt, he goes running to her like she’s the most precious thing in his life. 

For years, I tried to delude myself into thinking he didn’t actually love her. But I can barely deny it now that the evidence is looking me right in the face, can I?

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Maya shrieks so loudly, I almost send my phone sailing across the room. 

I almost forgot she was still on the other end of the line. 

“What’s going on?” I breathe, rubbing a palm across my tired face.

“Girl, aren’t we watching the same thing?! Your husband just announced Sophia as the Creative Director of Cromwell Holdings.”

I freeze, my heart thundering wildly as I turn my full attention back to the television.

“That can’t be true…”

But even as the words leave my lips, Hardin’s confident baritone fills the room;

“…Sophia has shown utmost dedication and deep commitment to this project. Her talent is second to none. No one else is more deserving of the position of Creative Director.”

No one else is more deserving…

The words echo in my head long after he wraps up his speech. 

For a moment, I can only stare at the screen.  

Then the disbelief gives way to something hotter.

Anger. 

My fingers curl into tight fists as I watch Sophia’s smile grow wider, my chest burning as the weight of everything I sacrificed for this moment crashes down on me. 

Seven years.

I dedicated seven years of my life to Cromwell Hospitality, working my way up as an interior designer and pouring everything I had into the company. 

I designed some of its biggest hotels in New York and across the country. I worked late nights. I missed weekends. I gave that company everything.  

And I truly believed Hardin would recognize my hardwork and give me the position of Creative Director because I earned it.

But once again, when it mattered, he chose his childhood sweetheart over me.

Once again, he overlooked my years of hardwork and handed over everything I’d spent seven years earning to her. 

“What the hell is Hardin doing?” Maya snarls. “That bitch just started working with him last year. How could she be the best for the position? Make it make fucking sense!”

I sink into the couch with shaky legs, suddenly feeling too dizzy to hold myself up. 

Five seconds later, my chest suddenly feels too tight and I can barely breathe.

“Maya… I don’t feel so good.”

“Keona? What’s going on? Can you hear me…?”

“I need a d-doctor,” I manage, my vision blurring as I stare at Hardin’s handsome face on the screen. 

“Please get me a doctor. I d-don’t feel right…”

***

AN HOUR LATER…

For the past six years of our marriage, the only doctors who ever treated me were on Hardin’s payroll. I never had to worry about a medical bill or lift a finger to find a doctor.  

But this time, the thought of being touched by anyone connected to Hardin makes my skin crawl. 

So I drove myself here instead, a small, private clinic far from home, where no one knows my name or has any reason to report back to my husband.

The doctor, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, glances at the results of my blood tests splayed on his table. Then asks casually;

“Mrs. Cromwell, how long have you been on contraceptives?”

I laugh, convinced he must be mistaken. 

“I’m not on contraceptives, doctor.”

The doctor looks up, his brows drawing together in confusion. 

“Are you sure? Your hormone profile strongly suggests otherwise.”

I shake my head stubbornly; “there’s probably something wrong with the tests. My husband and I have actually been trying for another child for the past two years. I don’t take any contraceptives whatsoever.”

Dr. Smith purses his lips and for a moment, I wonder where this is going. 

“If the test results are wrong, I don't mind retaking them.”

“Let me put like this, Mrs. Cromwell,” he says, leaning forward. “Are you on any form of daily medication?”

A flicker of dread curls in my stomach as I nod . “Uh…only vitamins. My husband gives them to me every morning.”

Ever since I told Hardin that I wanted another child, he made sure to place me on vitamins to make sure I was healthy enough for our baby.

Those are one of the moments I genuinely thought he loved me. Looking back, I can’t help but feel stupid.

I’m so deep in my thoughts that I don’t notice the change in Dr. Smith’s expression.

“Mrs. Cromwell, would it be possible to bring those vitamins to the clinic for tests?”

My heart drops.

“Do we have a problem, Doctor?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure yet. Bring the vitamins and we’ll find out.”

***

Thirty minutes later, Mina, our housekeeper, finally arrives with the bottles. 

Her blue eyes light up with recognition when she sees me. She hurries over, swaddled in a thick jacket to ward off the bone-deep chill of the night.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing you, Mina.” I give her a hug and take the bottles from her.

“Not a problem, Mrs. Cromwell. Always at your service.” She smiles. “Are you okay? You seem a bit pale.”

I shake my head. “I’m alright. If Mr. Cromwell comes home while I’m still gone, tell him Maya came into town and I went to pay her a visit.”

Mina’s eyes stray to the door of the clinic, narrowing with unease. “Mrs. Cromwell, is everything okay…?”

I glance at the bottles, my heart thundering with fear and uncertainty.

“I have no idea, Mina. I genuinely have no idea…”

After an hour of drowning in worry, Dr. Smith finally calls me back into his office.

One look at his pinched brows and I know something has gone horribly wrong. 

I already felt it in my bones when I handed the bottles to the lab scientist and she gave me that pitying look, but I still clung to the foolish hope that they contained nothing more than vitamins. 

“Mrs. Cromwell, please have a seat.”

My legs feel weak as I sink into the chair. 

“Doctor…”

He clasps his hands together; 

“I’m not sure how else to say this, but tests have confirmed that the bottles you gave to us contain prescription birth control pills, not vitamins.”

For a few seconds, I don’t understand those words. 

I stare at him, unblinking.

Birth control? That can’t be right.

“There must be a mistake somewhere,” I whisper, the words barely making it past my lips. “H-Hardin said they were vitamins…”

The doctor purses his lips, 

“Well, either your husband was equally mistaken, or he’s been lying to you, Mrs. Cromwell. Either way, I’m so sorry…”