CHAPTER 1: Her Breaking Point

Monica clutched the sheets tightly as Liam opened the cabinet. She held her breath, afraid to move, afraid to break the moment.

It had been three years. Three silent, distant years—and now, finally, he had touched her.

She watched him as he searched through the cabinet, her eyes tracing the lines of his bare back. His body still made her breath catch.

He shut the cabinet and turned. Their eyes met. Her heart skipped.

Monica froze when she saw the small foil packet in his hand. A condom.

Her heart thudded.

They were married. Why would he need that?

Doesn’t he want to have a child with me?

The thought stung.

She laid there, quiet, holding the sheets tighter around her.

Why does this feel like a hookup? she wondered. Why not like a wife?

All these thoughts raced through her head as she watched Liam tear the packet open, calm and focused, like it was just another routine.

Was this even love-making, or just sex?

It wasn’t how she had pictured their first time.

But as Liam climbed into bed and pulled her close, the air rushed out of her lungs.

He looked so good—his fingers moving to his belt, his lips brushing her neck. When he gently parted her legs, she didn’t resist.

She gave in.

It was fine. It had to be.

At least now, she told herself, she was one step closer to winning his heart.

The Next Day

Hours later, Monica stood in the checkout line, her basket filled with Liam’s favorite things—ingredients for that cheesy garlic pasta he loved, the sparkling water he always kept in the fridge, even the chocolate-covered almonds he claimed he didn’t like but always ate.

She smiled. He liked her cooking.

Monica held the grocery bag close as she got into the cab, her heart still floating from last night.

She stepped into the mansion, greeted by the smell of polish and silence. Rose, the maid, hurried over.

“I’ll cook tonight,” Monica said, handing her the groceries.

“Yes, Ma,” Rose replied, already heading to the kitchen.

Monica climbed the stairs slowly, touching the railing like it might steady her racing thoughts. Liam had finally touched her. Three years of waiting, hoping, pretending not to care—and now, something had changed.

He made love to her. He kissed her. He held her close.

But her smile faded.

She remembered the condom in his hand.

Why?

They were married.

Her fingers brushed her stomach as a quiet ache settled in her chest. Didn’t he want a baby with her? Was she still just someone to share the house with?

No. She wouldn’t ruin this moment.

He was trying. That had to mean something.

She always knew Liam hadn’t married her for love. Not at first. But he’d never had a girlfriend before, so she kept hoping. Maybe, one day, he’d feel something for her too. Last night had felt like the start of that.

Liam had been her magazine crush long before he became her husband. As a model, Monica had seen her fair share of good-looking men—but Liam was different. Ocean-blue eyes, a sharp jaw, and a smile that looked like it belonged on a billboard. He was the kind of man everyone wanted. The man she had fallen for the moment she saw his photo years ago.

She hurried up the stairs, hope bubbling inside her. Maybe things were finally changing. Maybe she should change into something pretty, surprise him.

But then she stopped.

Right at the top of the stairs—clothes.

Not hers.

A lace bra. A silky blouse. One red high heel tipped on its side like it had been kicked off in a rush.

Monica’s breath caught. Her heart raced.

She didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Her eyes stayed locked on the mess by their bedroom door.

Then, slowly, dread pushed her forward. Her steps were quiet.

She stepped over the scattered clothes, each one feeling like a slap.

Her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob.

And then—she opened the door.

From the other side of the door came a voice—soft, familiar, and sweet.

“Why don’t you divorce Monica? I’ve waited long enough, Liam.”

Monica froze.

That voice. She knew it. Every word felt like a knife.

Brie.

Her sister.

The one person she had loved with her whole heart.

Then Liam spoke, his voice calm. “You know how much my grandma loves Monica. She has to mess up first before I can divorce her.”

Monica’s hand flew to her mouth as a sob escaped. Tears rushed to her eyes, blurring everything. No, this couldn’t be real.

But it was.

She didn’t need to see more.

Her husband.

Her sister.

In her bed.

Tears filled Monica’s eyes as she stepped back, her legs shaky.

“But I’m tired of hiding,” Brie said. “Sneaking around is too much. I feel sad all the time.”

Monica’s stomach hurt. Sneaking around? So this wasn’t the first time.

“Just a little more time, love,” Liam said.

Love. He had never called Monica that.

She couldn’t breathe. Her throat felt tight. She tried to stay quiet, but a small cough slipped out.

Liam and Brie turned fast. Their eyes went wide. They grabbed the sheets, trying to cover up.

But it was too late. Monica had seen everything.

“Monica!” Liam shouted, jumping out of bed. His face went pale. “How long have you been there?”

Brie grabbed the blanket, covering herself. Her voice shook. “I’m sorry, sister. I love Liam. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Monica just stared at them. Her chest hurt. Her own sister. Her husband.

“You don’t need to say sorry,” Liam said fast. “It’s not your fault.”

Monica let out a dry laugh. “How long?” she asked. “How long have you been doing this?”

Brie looked down. Liam didn’t say anything.

“How long?” Monica shouted.

Brie whispered, “Three years. We love each other. We want to get married.”

Monica’s world stopped. “Three years?” she whispered. “You’ve been cheating since the start?”

She stepped back, shaking. “I gave up everything for you. My dreams. My life. For this?”

“This marriage was never a choice,” Liam said coldly. “It was just a favor to my mother.”

The words hit her like a slap.

Monica blinked, her voice shaking. “So all those late nights… the lipstick on your shirt… the dents on your car… You were with Brie? You were with my sister?”

More tears spilled, but she didn’t bother wiping them.

Brie let out a shaky breath. “Look, sister… I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

Monica turned to her, her face pale. “You didn’t mean to? All those nights I tried to get close to my own husband—he was already giving himself to you.”

Her voice broke as she whispered, “I waited for him… I stayed loyal… I loved him.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Stop whining like a baby.”

Her tears poured as she grabbed a photo frame and threw it. “You’re both shameless!”

Brie covered her belly. “Stop! You’ll hurt the baby!”

Monica froze. “Baby?” Her voice was small. “You’re pregnant?”

Liam rushed over and grabbed Monica’s arm, pushing her away from Brie. She fell.

“You pushed me…” she whispered.

“You were going to hurt my child,” Liam said, his voice cold.

Monica laughed, but it sounded broken. “Your child? With my sister?”

Monica's voice shook as the truth sank in. "Oh... I get it now." She took a shaky breath, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Last night... you used protection because it wasn’t love. It was just... a hookup. In our marriage."

Brie’s voice was soft, but it cut deep. “I’m sorry, Monica, but Liam and I are meant to be. You’ve been so obsessed with him, you never saw that he wasn’t happy with you.”

Monica nodded slowly, the pain settling in her chest. “You’ve always taken what’s mine… ever since we were kids.”

Liam’s eyes were empty. “I was never yours.”

Brie stood next to him, her voice almost sweet. “He loves me now. You two were just arranged.”

Monica’s heart broke, and her voice cracked. “What about last night? Was it all fake?”

Liam didn’t even look at her. “I felt bad for you. That’s all.”

Monica’s throat tightened. She couldn’t speak. Her world felt like it was shattering. Without another word, she turned and ran.