For me, for her

Alina

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was the sound of my life passing by, waiting for a man who didn't want to come home.

I still lay there, staring at the empty space where Liam had stood. My hand was still resting on my stomach. I couldn't sleep. It was long gone.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, making me jump.

The screen lit up the dark room, blinding me for a moment.

I reached for my phone, my heart doing a nervous flip. It was 2:00 AM. Who would be texting me now?

[Message from: Chloe]

Chloe was my best friend, the only person in the world who knew how lonely my "fairy tale" marriage actually was. She was out tonight at The Sapphire Lounge, the most exclusive club in the city.

I slid the notification and tapped the message.

[Chloe: Jules... I don't know if I should send this. But you deserve to know.]

My stomach dropped. She never sent me messages this late unless it was important.

[Chloe: Sent a photo]

I tapped on the image. It took a second to load, and when it did, I felt like someone had punched me in the chest.

The photo was blurry, taken from a distance but there was no mistaking him.

Liam was sitting on a velvet sofa, holding a glass of champagne. He wasn't on his phone. He wasn't looking bored, like he usually did when he was with me.

He was smiling. A real, genuine smile that reached his eyes.

And he was looking at her.

Sitting next to him was a woman in a shimmering red dress.

She was beautiful in a way that was effortless. She was laughing, her hand resting casually on Liam’s arm.

Above their heads, a digital banner on the wall read: "Welcome Home, Amily."

Amily.

The name echoed in my head like a curse. I knew that name. Every person in our social circle knew that name.

She was Liam’s first love. The woman he loved before his grandmother forced him to marry me. She had moved to Paris three years ago to pursue her modeling career.

Under the photo, Chloe had sent a text.

[Chloe: It’s a welcome back party. Everyone is here. He rented out the whole VIP section for her.]

A charity gala.

That was the lie he told me. He looked me in the eyes, after being intimate with me and lied so he could go celebrate the return of the woman he actually wanted.

I zoomed in on the photo. Liam was looking at Amily with a softness I had never seen directed at me.

Not once in three years.

For me, he had duty. For her, he had desire.

I threw the phone across the bed as if it had burned me. I curled into a tight ball and pulled the duvet over my head.

"You fool." I whispered to myself. "You absolute fool."

I had thought, just for a moment tonight, that maybe we had a chance. That maybe this baby would be a bridge between us.

But he was right for not wanting a baby with me. A baby can't fix a broken heart. And it certainly can’t make a man love you when his heart belongs to someone else.

I cried until my eyes were swollen shut. I cried for the parents I lost, for the husband I never really had and for the baby who was already rejected before it was even born.

And I cried for the foolish girl I was, thinking that if I just loved him enough, he would eventually forget her.

He hadn't forgotten. He never would.

The next morning, the sun felt too bright. It mocked the darkness I felt inside.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to hide the evidence of my tears. My eyes were puffy, and my skin looked pale. I applied extra concealer, hoping it would be enough.

But soon, the silence of the empty halls was deafening, suffocating me. I couldn't breathe in that house anymore. I needed the only people who had ever truly loved me.

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad."

My voice trembled as I knelt on the damp grass of the cemetery.

I placed a bouquet of white lilies on the two marble headstones in front of me.

Richard and Cynthia Carter.

I traced the engraved letters of their names with my fingers.

I wished they were here. I wished I could run to my mother and bury my face in her lap. I wished I could ask my father what to do. They were the only ones who would have protected me from Liam’s coldness.

I had so much to tell them. I wanted to tell them about the baby. I wanted to tell them that their little girl was going to be a mother.

But the words stuck in my throat.

How could I tell them that the man they saved, the man they died for, didn't love me? How could I tell them that the father of my child didn’t even want the child?

I didn't know how much time had passed. But when I finally looked around, the sky was dark with heavy, bruised clouds. In the distance, thunder rumbled ominously.

I wiped a cold tear from my cheek and stood up. I didn't want to leave, but I couldn't afford to get sick.

I turned around to head back to the main path.

As soon as I looked forward, my heart entirely stopped.

About fifty feet away, walking under the shadow of an old, massive oak tree, was a tall man in a black tailored coat.

Next to him was a woman with golden hair, clinging to his arm as if she couldn't stand on her own.

Liam.

And Amily.