TWO

KEONA

I hate chocolate cake, but I woke up by 5 AM to bake a double layered chocolate cake for our anniversary because Hardin is absolutely obsessed with them. 

I cradle the cake against my chest with one hand, a happy smile tugging at my lips as I reach for the half open door of my husband’s study.

I’m just about to walk inside when Hardin’s deep baritone filters into my ears; 

“Keona already knows there’s nothing between us. This marriage is a mutually beneficial arrangement. She’ll be out of this house soon.”

I freeze, the cake trembling in my gasp.  

My heart splinters at the words, each one cutting deeper than the last. 

Don’t cry, Keona. Don’t cry.

I press my lips together, fighting the sob rising in my throat. 

It doesn’t work. 

A tiny, broken sound slips past my lips and the study suddenly falls silent. 

Fuck. He heard me.

Before I can unglue my feet and make a run for it, the door swings open and there he is. My husband, Hardin Cromwell. CEO of Cromwell Holdings and one of the youngest trillionaires that New York City has ever produced. 

The sight of him makes my heart flutter, just like it always does. Except this time, the flutter comes with a sharp, aching pain.

Hardin, on the other hand, maintains a perfectly blank expression as he watches me closely, probably trying to decipher if I heard anything. He doesn’t even spare the stupid cake a glance.

“What are you doing here, Keona? Did you want something?”

Like you fucking care.

I swallow the bitter words and hold up the cake, forcing a smile.

“Uh… happy anniversary!”

Maybe I’m imagining it, but Hardin’s gaze lingers on me for a second longer than usual before shifting to the cake.

A single candle shaped like a “6” sits in the centre, and our names are written across the surface in buttercream, a tiny reminder of the six years we’ve spent together.  

I spent so much time on it. Now I just feel stupid. 

My heart contracts painfully and before I can stop myself, I take a tiny step backward, desperate to put some distance between us.  

“What are you doing?”

I lift my head to find Hardin frowning at me, his gorgeous face drawn into an expression I can’t quite read. 

“Uh… you’re probably busy with work,” I mumble, suddenly aching to get away before he sees just how much his words have hurt me. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

Something flickers in his eyes. Something that makes my chest ache. But I don’t wait long enough to find out what it is. 

I turn, ready to make a run for it before my tears actually start falling. But I barely take a single step when strong fingers clamp around my arm. 

Startled, I twist around and find Hardin standing over me. 

His gaze lingers on my face before sliding towards the cake. 

“You baked this for me, didn’t you? Won’t I get to taste it?”

Confusion clouds my mind, leaving me too stunned to respond. 

“Feed it to me, Keona.”

I blink. “Wh-what?”

Hardin’s fingers tighten around my arm

“The cake. Feed it to me.”

Before I can untangle my tongue enough to respond, a figure dressed entirely in black materializes beside us. 

It’s Claude. Hardin’s head of security. 

“Mrs. Cromwell,” he bows slightly in my direction. 

Hardin releases me, turning his full attention to his bodyguard. 

“Claude. What is it?” 

“It's Ms. Sophia. We just received a call that she suffered a mild cardiac arrest and has been rushed to the city hospital. She called in a panic, asking for you.”

Sophia. 

The mere mention of her name has my stomach twisting with anger. 

But whatever anger I feel pales in comparison to the concern that suddenly floods my husband’s face. 

Right before my eyes, Hardin transforms into a completely different man. The cold, detached expression he reserves for me disappears, replaced by something I rarely ever see in him. 

Genuine worry. 

“How is she doing?”

“I don’t have information about that, boss.”

Hardin’s brows draw together; “Arrange for her to be admitted into the best private hospital in the city. I don’t care about the cost.”

“Yes, boss.”

My chest burns as I stand in the background like a forgotten piece of furniture while my husband fusses over his childhood sweetheart. 

He turns to leave and panic claws its way up my throat. I can’t let him leave. Not today. 

Before I can think better of it, I reach out and grab his arm;

“Hardin, it’s our anniversary today,” I plead, my voice trembling. “We haven’t spent it together in years. You promised you’d be home with me all day. Surely, someone else can look after Sophia for today.”

Hardin’s gaze makes me shrink into myself, painfully aware of how needy I must look.

He doesn’t even react to the mention of our anniversary. Instead, he snatches his arm from my grip and keeps walking; 

“Now is not the time for your childish tantrums, Keona. Sophia needs me. Her life is in danger.”

A sharp retort sits on the tip of my tongue but before I can let it out, the pitter-patter of small feet slapping against the marble tiles filters into the air.

“Daddy, daddy. What happened to Ms. Sophia?”

I turn away, hastily wiping my wet cheeks as our daughter runs into the room.

She stops in front of Hardin, her soft black curls bouncing around her face as she lifts both hands towards him.

“Pick me up, daddy. Please.”

Hardin scoops her into his arms without hesitation and blows softly against her neck. I watch them with a wistful smile, the sound of Cora’s giggles doing little to soothe the pain in my heart.

“Happy birthday, dumpling,” Hardin says, pressing a soft kiss to her cheeks and forehead. “Daddy loves you very much.”

And that’s why today means so much to me. It doubles as our daughter’s birthday and our anniversary. One day that belongs to the two people I love most in the world. 

“Thanks, daddy!” Cora crows. “Now, back to Ms. Sophie. What happened?”

My annoyance returns at the reminder that my husband isn’t the only person in this house who’s obsessed with Sophia Benett. 

That woman has my daughter wrapped around her little finger too.

“Ms. Sophie is just a bit ill,” Hardin responds, downplaying the situation for Cora. “She’ll be fine soon.”

Cora chews her bottom, her little face pinching with worry. “Can I come with you to the hospital? Please, daddy? I really want to spend my birthday with Ms. Sophie.”

The words hit me like a slap.

I force a smile onto my face, ignoring the piercing ache in my chest. 

“Cora?” I call softly, “did you forget you’re supposed to spend time with mommy today? We could go get ice-cream…”

“But Ms. Sophie is sick, mommy,” she cuts me off, wrinkling her forehead. “We can get ice cream any other day. Ms. Sophie’s health is more important.”

I clamp my mouth shut, completely taken aback.

My gaze strays to Hardin to find him brushing Cora’s curls with his fingers, paying no attention to me.

“If you want to visit Ms. Sophie, you’ll have to return in time for dinner,” he tells her. “You can’t spend the night like last time. Deal?”

Cora’s face lights up with a smile.

“Deal! Can we go now, daddy?”

“Sure.” 

Hardin finally turns to me, but I can barely see him through the tears currently blurring my vision.

“We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Then they walk away, leaving me behind to pick up my broken pieces…

***

EIGHT HOURS LATER…

I waited for them. 

I hoped and hoped that Hardin would actually keep his word and bring Cora home so we could at least spend dinner together.

But one hour turned into two, then into five… and just like that, it’s already 11:45 PM and the day is almost over.

I’m currently standing in the middle of the living room, staring at all the decorations and gifts I’d spent hours putting up myself. And I can’t help but feel like a clown.

This is not the first time something like this is happening. 

Last year, on my birthday, Sophia conveniently had a nasty fall, and Hardin and Cora ended up spending the entire day with her. Hardin didn’t even bother to tell me they weren’t coming home. 

Just like today.

Tears of anger prick my eyes as I shove the cake into the trash. I’m just about to chuck all the gifts I’d bought out the window when my suddenly phone rings. 

I snatch it up, my heart stupidly jumping with hope. But the hope evaporates, leaving behind a wave of disappointment when I see the name on my the screen.

It’s my best friend.

Now I hate myself for how badly I’d wanted it to be Hardin. 

“Hi, Maya.”

“Bitch. Isn’t it your anniversary and Cora’s birthday today?” She says by way of greeting. 

“Yeah, it is…? Why are you screaming, Maya?”

“It is? Then why the ever loving fuck is your husband gallivanting about with that blonde-haired bimbo on national tv when he’s supposed to be home with you?”

My heart almost stops beating. “Wait. What do you mean?”

“Turn on the motherfucking tv and see what I mean!”

I’m already moving, grabbing the remote and turning on our gigantic television.

Three seconds later, my heart shatters all over again at the images that fill the screen.

Maya is right.

Hardin isn’t at the hospital. And Sophia doesn’t look like a woman who suffered a cardiac arrest today.

They’re right there, arm-in-arm at some lavish red carpet event, looking every inch like a happy couple as they smile brightly at the camera.

“Girl, is that your child?!” Maya growls. “Don’t tell me you let Hardin take Cora to hangout with that sleazy bitch!”

I’m frozen in place, unable to speak as I watch Sophia cradle Cora against her chest. 

A bitter, vicious jealousy twists through my stomach as she leans forward and presses a kiss to my daughter’s cheek. 

“Oh, I will kill that ‘hoe!” Maya shrieks in the background. “How dare she put her filthy lips on my niece?!”

I grab the remote with shaky hands, about to turn off the television.

Then Sophia moves…

And right there, in front of millions of viewers, she wraps her fingers around Hardin’s shoulders and presses her lips to his…