Chapter 6

Lydia

I woke up feeling extremely sick. My stomach turned as I felt the little I had to eat last night slowly rush up, and my head felt so heavy I feared it'd pop soon.

The air in the cell was damp; I could smell all the body heat, sweat, and heavy metal that I couldn't distinguish from the blood, too. I pressed my hand against my belly as memories flooded in.

"You have to tell Mason," Gloria’s voice said.

Tell him? And then what? Would he even believe me?

I sucked in a breath, trying to calm myself down as emotions rushed in all at once. A lump formed in my throat, and my body ached from the cold, hard mattress.

The blanket barely did anything to keep the chill away. My fingers curled tighter over my stomach as I worried for the poor little things's safety. I couldn't let anything happen to these babies.

Suddenly, my eyes caught sight of something heading for my side, and I hurriedly ducked, turning in bed, letting the kick attack my back instead. Pain shot up my spine, but I was so relieved to have protected my stomach. My back, on the other hand, hurt like hell

Mary.

She was a dark-skinned, big, mean, and empty-headed woman who was, unfortunately, one of my inmates. The kind of woman who liked to pick fights just because she could. She sneered down at me, her brown eyes filled with something close to amusement.

"Why the hell you curlin' up like that?" she muttered, tilting her head. "Acting like a damn rat in a corner."

I didn’t answer. I was too busy holding my breath, waiting for the pain to settle as her body heat smell had me on the verge of throwing up.

Mary hissed, annoyed at how I snubbed her. "Whatever. One of the guards said you got a visitor."

My head snapped up upon hearing that.

A visitor?

I scrambled to my feet so fast my legs almost gave out. I finally have a visitor, and hopefully, it's... him. I rushed to the cell gate, gripping the cold metal bars. "Who is it?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

Mary rolled her eyes. "How the hell should I know? Just hurry up and get lost."

I didn’t wait for her to say anything else. As soon as the guard unlocked the gate, I stepped out, my heart pounding hard against its ribcage. My feet felt unsteady, my breath shallow as I nervously walked towards the visiting area.

I followed the guard down the narrow hallway. My fingers were twitching. My heart felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest.

It had to be him.

Please, please let it be him.

I stepped into the visitation room, and my heart leapt for joy when I saw,

Mason.

He stood near the table, arms crossed, his face unreadable. His dark, short hair was neatly styled, and his jaw looked tense. His dark brown eyes locked onto me but were not as warm as they used to be; they were cold and distant.

I swallowed hard upon noticing that.

For a second, hope bloomed in my chest. Maybe he finally believed me. Maybe Zoe told him the truth.

I took a shaky step forward. "Mason," I whispered.

His eyes focused on me, but his expression remained the same. He pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.

I did. My hands clenched in my lap. "Did Zoe talk to you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mason's eyes seemed even more tense, as I mentioned Zoe first. But then his expression turned void again as he rested his arms on the table. "Why were you sleeping with my stepfather?"

I felt the blood drain from my face. "What?" My voice cracked.

He didn’t blink. "Why were you fucking him under my roof?"

My stomach twisted so hard I thought I might throw up. My fingers dug into my thighs, my breathing uneven as I tried to stop myself from crying. "Mason, that's not true." My voice shook. "I didn’t—"

"Don't lie to me." His voice was suddenly sharp, like a blade cutting through my skin. Tears welled up in the back of my eyes as I failed at controlling my emotions. I shook my head, my hands starting to tremble. "I swear, I never—"

"Then why did you kill him?"

"I didn't--" I froze.

My throat tightened, and my breath caught in my chest. The words wouldn’t come out. I couldn't expose Zoe like that; I had to protect her.

Mason exhaled, shaking his head. He leaned back in his chair, his jaw tight. "You can’t even deny it, can you?"

I wiped at my face, my vision blurring from the tears. "Mason, I—"

"Save it." His voice was cold, empty.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a stack of papers. He placed them on the table and slid them toward me. A pen followed.

With a confused expression, I stared at the papers and froze when I saw the word Divorce written in bold letters.

I stared at his signature at the bottom of the page, my heart crumbling inside me.

"I only married you to go against my mother," Mason said, "And after that, I got tired of playing the good husband; I was always going to do this."

My throat closed up. My chest felt like it was caving in.

I looked at him, searching his face for something—anything—but all I saw was the same coldness that had been there since the moment he walked in.

Tears spilled down my cheeks. My fingers hovered over the papers. "You really believe I cheated on you?" My voice broke.

He didn’t answer.

"You really think I would do that to you?" I choked out as I gripped the edge of the table. "After everything?”

Mason’s jaw ticked. He didn’t look at me.

I let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand to my stomach. I wanted to tell him. Right there.

But I couldn’t.

Not like this.

Not when he looked at me like I was nothing.

I wiped my tears and picked up the pen. My fingers hovered over the paper. My eyes flicked back to Mason, hoping, praying he would say something.

Anything.

But he just watched. Silent. Waiting.

He was anticipating.

I angrily tried to force my hand to move, to sign, to end this marriage.

But I couldn’t.

The pen slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the table. My throat tightened as I shook my head. "I can’t," I whispered, my voice barely there. I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked up at him. "I won’t sign it."

Mason let out a low, bitter laugh. "You won’t?" He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his lips curling into something close to amusement. "You really think you have a say in this?"

I wiped at my face, my shoulders shaking. "Mason, please, just listen to me—"

"Listen to you?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "You want me to listen to you after what you did?" His eyes darkened with rage. "You fucked my goddamn stepfather, Lydia. My stepfather." His voice rose. "And of all people, you chose that total shithole."

My nails dug into my palms. "I didn’t—"

"Shut up," he snapped. His fingers curled into fists on the table. "You disgust me."

This time, I gave up and let the tears stream down my cheeks. "I never touched him," I whispered. "I swear to —"

"You think your words mean anything to me?" He let out a harsh breath, his jaw tightening. "Let me tell you something, Lydia."

Mason leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine. "If you think for a second that I was faithful to you, you’re dumber than I thought."

A sick feeling settled in my stomach.

His lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Jasmin."

My heart clenched.

"You remember her, don’t you?" he continued, tilting his head. "The one you were always a little jealous of? The one you used to watch whenever she got too close?" He let out a low chuckle. "You were right to be jealous."

I shook my head. "No."

"Yes." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper like he was enjoying this. "Every business trip? That was our little getaway." His smirk widened. "And guess what? She just might be fertile, unlike you; after two years, you have never had any signs of pregnancy. But Jasmin just might be pregnant."

The words hit me like a slap to the face.

Pregnant.

I sucked in a shaky breath, my entire body frozen. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. Mason pulled back, watching me. This whole time, and he was the one cheating on me?!

I wiped my face roughly and forced my hands to stay steady. Without another word, I picked up the pen and signed my name. My fingers shook, my throat burned, but I did it.

Mason’s smirk deepened. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

I set the pen down carefully as I stared at him now,

"If I ever get out of here," I said hoarsely, "I will be your worst nightmare."

He chuckled, standing up and grabbing the papers. "We’ll see about that."

Then, without another glance, he turned and walked away.