Bella

“Bella is just an orphan with no influence or inheritance backing her up. She’s leeching off us. Father is already dead, and three years should be more than enough of Lincoln’s time spent fulfilling his last wishes!”

The words were shouted harshly, forcing me to pause at the entrance of the door.

I knew exactly who said that.

The voice was far too familiar for me not to.

After all, I had lived with them for five years. It was my mother-in-law. Lincoln’s mother.

The same woman I had given one of my kidneys to when she was struggling with lupus nephritis.

The hospital had searched for months and couldn’t find a matching blood type. I was the only match.

She had been dying.

And I had donated one of my kidneys to save her life, believing, foolishly, that it would prove my love and loyalty to Lincoln.

But it proved nothing to any of them.

After she recovered, I was told that my sacrifice was the bare minimum any daughter-in-law should do for her husband’s mother.

“Come on, Father. Mother is right. A divorce is long overdue between the two of them,” Jessica, Lincoln’s only sister added, her voice sharp with conviction.

“Do you know how much exposure our company would gain if Lincoln married Jenna? The public doesn’t even know about his marriage to Bella. It’s only best if we take advantage of this opportunity now that it’s right in front of us.”

I swallowed the lump forming painfully in my throat as the cold night air bit into my skin.

I had been standing outside for a while now, still in my ball gown and listening to every word they spoke about me.

None of them worked at the company. They preferred staying at home, which was why they hadn’t attended the end-of-year party.

“Lincoln is a wealthy man,” my mother-in-law continued, “and he deserves a worthy woman to present to the public as his wife. Not an orphan from an unknown background, tied to him by a marriage Grandpa forced on him. A marriage he doesn’t even want!”

She scoffed.

“Don’t you remember that he even had a vasectomy done just so she would never get pregnant for him? Dad!”

Jessica’s words struck me like a slap. I stood frozen, forgetting everything else they continued to discuss about how I wasn't fit.

Tomorrow was supposed to be my weekly hospital appointment, where the doctor would once again try to figure out why I hadn’t been able to conceive. They had always shamed me for being barren. Always looked at me like I was defective.

So they all knew.

They knew Lincoln had gotten a vasectomy just so I would never get pregnant.

And yet they had stayed silent and let me take the blame.

They let me be humiliated for years over something that was never my fault.

A tear threatened to slide down my cheek, but I forced it back.

“I do not approve of any divorce, Jessica,” my father-in-law’s voice cut in firmly. “Neither does Lincoln. Bella is a part of this family, and you must learn to treat her like one.”

Relief flooded my chest at the sound of his voice.

He was the only one who had ever made me feel welcome in that house.

Hearing him defend me made my heart ache with gratitude.

Wiping my eyes and forcing my expression into calm neutrality, I pushed the door open and walked in.

As though I had only just returned.

As though I hadn’t heard every word meant to strip me of my dignity.

“Bellaaa!”

David Hayes, Lincoln’s father called out as he walked toward me. His gaze lingered on my face, studying me as though he were trying to find something I had failed to hide.

“You’re already back,” he added.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Jessica scoffed. “There were no awards for a lazy and worthless woman like her.”

Her words earned her a sharp side-eye from her father.

She merely rolled her eyes at me before walking back to the sofa, settling down to continue watching the live footage of the end-of-year party.

Her mother followed suit.

Neither of them bothered to ask how my day had gone.

My father-in-law tried to engage me in small, meaningless conversation but I didn’t listen. I turned my back and walked away, preferring solitude to spending another second in their presence.

That night, I lay awake in my room, unable to sleep.

I wasn’t waiting for anyone.

Lincoln and I didn’t share a room.

Yet it felt strange, lying there, listening unconsciously for the sound of car horns that would signal his return home, brought back by his chauffeur.

I wanted him to return so desperately.

To reassure me that no matter what, he would always come back to me. Even if he didn’t love me, I told myself I could live with that, so long as he returned home.

A message suddenly popped up on my phone.

My heart leapt as I rushed to unlock the door.

It was past midnight.

He had asked me to open it for him.

“Lincoln,” I called softly into the darkness, hoping pathetically, for even the smallest acknowledgment.

Like the way he used to acknowledge me back when we were students.

Back when he treated me like a younger sister, before he had been forced to marry me.

But none came.

He reeked of Jenna’s cologne.

I swallowed the bitterness down.

It wasn’t often that he came to my room or texted me at all. When he did, it was usually to discipline me for supposedly disrespecting Jenna or his family, or to have his way with me whenever he pleased.

“We’ll begin trying for a baby soon,” he said abruptly.

The words stunned me into silence.

Why now?

When I had already learned that he had undergone a vasectomy, just to make sure I would never get pregnant. When I was already preparing divorce papers? When I was almost fed up wth everything?

Had he finally realized my importance?

Did he want to change and want me?

Or had Jenna done something that made him realize she wasn’t as innocent as she pretended to be?

Questions flooded my mind.

Yet I said nothing.

Lincoln offered no explanation either.

He turned and walked away immediately after delivering those confusing words.

I tried to tell myself not to think too much about it.

Perhaps he had spoken out of intoxication, mistaking me for Jenna, while imagining her as the mother of his children.

Yet he had seemed sober enough when he said it.

I stood there for a long time, watching his retreating back, replaying his words over and over in my head.

And somewhere deep within me, a fragile hope took root.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we had a child.

Maybe a child would bring us closer.

Maybe loving him as the mother of his child would teach me how to be loved in return.

But alas, little did I know.