LOGINScarlette. “Mother… listen,” I said softly, my expression shifting into a smile so strained it felt like it might split my face in two.“I made you lunch.”I turned slightly, gesturing toward the food tray on the table. “I’ve been waiting for you all day. I wanted you to eat this.”I walked closer to it, my fingers hovering over the lids. “Madam Julie didn’t prepare it. I did. I told her—what was the point of me being here if I couldn’t prepare a simple meal for my mother?” I let out a quiet breathless laugh. “I mean, you were my mother-in-law for years. And soon, you’ll be my mother-in-law again. I’ve always seen you as my mother in fact… because I never had one of my own.”My voice faltered for a fraction of a second before I forced it steady again. “It’s just unfortunate that you’re so cruel.”I waved the thought away as if it didn’t matter. “Anyway… come see what I made. It’s your favorite.”I lifted the lid.The aroma reached me first.And then pain did.Her hand clamped arou
Scarlette.I have replayed every version of this moment in my head so many times that it almost felt rehearsed, like a scene from a play I had memorized down to the last breath. In every version, Mother’s face twisted with the same familiar contempt, her lips curling as she spat out words designed to cut deeper than knives. I had imagined her voice rising, sharp and triumphant, telling me how lucky her son Ethan was to have left me. How fortunate he was to have divorced a woman like me. How, if he had stayed married to me, he would have become the biggest joke of the year, a man shackled to a barren wife who could give him nothing.I imagined her laughing, that cold, superior laugh she always used when she thought she had won, when she believed she was standing on higher ground. I imagined her accusing me of trapping Liam, of seducing the “good” son after failing to keep the first. I imagined her saying that if Liam did not leave me soon, I would ruin him too, turn him into some
Scarlette. I froze for a moment after the words left my mouth, my forehead pressed into Liam’s bare chest, my fingers curled into the fabric of his trousers like they were the only thing anchoring me to the ground. His skin was warm, familiar, steady in a way my world hadn’t been for years, yet even that comfort couldn’t dull the sharp edge of what I’d just confessed.“Your mother knew all along, Liam,” I repeated, my voice breaking despite my effort to keep it firm. “She knew. And she made me a villain in her story. She made it look like I wasn’t enough for her son.”His arms tightened around me instinctively, one hand spreading over my back, the other settling protectively at my waist. He lowered his head, resting his cheek against my hair, breathing me in like he was trying to absorb the hurt straight out of my bones.“Baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “you can’t ever think that way again. You’re enough. You’ve always been enough. You’re the sweetest, strongest w
Scarlette. All those years came crashing down on me at once.Every single humiliation.Every sharp word.Every pill shoved into my palm like a sentence I had no right to question.I saw it all again—Mother standing over me with that cold, disappointed stare, telling me I was defective. Useless. Incomplete. I remembered her voice echoing through the house, loud enough for servants to hear, loud enough for shame to settle into the walls.You must take them.You must not skip a dose.You want to embarrass this family forever?The medications. God. The way they made me dizzy, nauseous, hollow. The way my hands would tremble when I tried to write notes for my patients. The way I had to cancel sessions again and again, watching my credibility crumble while Mother smiled like she was doing me a favor.I remembered the Spanish-speaking girl vividly. The desperation in her voice. How she needed someone who could understand her, who could hear her trauma in her own language. I had promised h
Scarlette.Sunlight spilled through the curtains, harsh and unforgiving, dragging me awake. Along with it came the familiar sharp ache along my sides, the kind that never failed to remind me that sleeping on my back was no longer an option. Pregnancy had turned rest into negotiation, and every morning began with discomfort as the price.Liam’s arms were wrapped around me from behind, heavy and warm, his body pressed flush against mine. Every subtle shift I made made me acutely aware of him, of the way his chest rose against my back, of how we had somehow slept tangled together like that all night. Naked.The realization hit me fully when I moved.I carefully sat up on the edge of the bed, wincing slightly as my hips protested. Almost immediately, I heard him stir. Of course he had been awake. Liam always was. He liked pretending he wasn’t, liked waiting, watching, measuring my moods before stepping in.“Do you need something?” he asked groggily from behind me.Before I could answer,
Scarlette.I rolled my eyes, but heat crept up my neck. “I mean, I thought you left. You know, to one of those places you go after we fight? Back so soon? Took you minutes this time. Used to be days.”He turned his back to me, his broad shoulders tense under the stream. Silence stretched, water pattering the tiles. I stood there, towel clutched tight, but something pulled me. The argument lingered, but so did the pull between us.I let the towel slip, pooling at my feet. Cool air hit my skin, but I stepped in anyway, behind him. My hands found his shoulders, warm and slick. The shower’s steam wrapped around us like a lover’s embrace, thick and hazy, turning the bathroom into our own private world. Water cascaded down my skin, hot and relentless, but it was nothing compared to the fire Liam ignited inside me. His hands on my waist were firm yet tender, his fingers tracing the swell of my belly with a reverence that made my heart ache even as my body burned. I’d spent weeks p







