Chapter 2: Making a promise that he never hold to

I don't know how long I stood there, staring at the closed bedroom door, wondering how I had ended up married to someone so heartless as Marcus Thorne. I could remember so clearly how my family hadn't liked him, not really. My mother had called him "charming but shallow," my father had noted his "expensive tastes and cheap morals," but they had respected my decision because they loved me. Because I had wanted him so desperately.

I had believed he would love me until our last breath, just as I loved him. But it wasn't the same. After we had been married for just two years, he started showing me the other side of him, the side that cared more about appearances than reality, more about convenience than commitment.

By then, I was pregnant with Lily, and I didn't want to walk away from the marriage. I didn't want to give birth to my child as a divorced single mother. And so I had to stay. For the sake of my child, for the sake of my family, for the sake of the life I thought we were building together.

I gently bent down and picked up the jacket from the floor. The jacket was still warm from his body, but sniff the scent of another lady's perfume from it which I quickly ignored, I don't want to give a chance of starting to doubt him.

One step at a time, toward the laundry room. Marcus's jacket was still clutched in my hand.

I threw it into the washing machine with more force, slamming the door shut. As I reached for the detergent, my eyes caught sight of the framed photograph on the laundry room shelf, Marcus and I on our wedding day, smiling at each other with such hope, such promise. I had been so thin then, so full of life, so blissfully unaware of the heartbreak that lay ahead.

I picked up the frame, my fingers tracing the outline of his face. How could the man in that picture be the same man who had just left me standing alone in the living room while our daughter fought for her life? How could the groom who had promised to love me "in sickness and in health" be the same husband who was funding another woman's prenatal care while his own child died?

The glass shattered against the wall before I even realized I had thrown it, pieces raining down around me like confetti at some twisted celebration. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the destruction I had wrought, breathing heavily as if I had just run a marathon.

The sound of footsteps from the bedroom made me freeze. Marcus was coming back.

"Elena?" His voice was closer now, right outside the laundry room door. "What was that noise? Are you breaking things again?"

The door swung open, and Marcus stood there, silhouetted against the room light. His eyes widened when he saw the broken picture frame on the floor, the shards of glass glinting at his feet.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, stepping into the room. "Do you have any idea how much that frame costs? Do you ever think before you act?"

His gaze fell upon the washing machine, and his expression darkened. "Did you put my jacket in there? Without even checking the pockets? Elena, for God's sake."

"Was it worth it?" I asked, my voice surprisingly steady. "Was it worth throwing away everything we had?"

He stared at me, confusion warring with irritation on his handsome face. "What are you talking about? Have you been drinking?"

Marcus, you have changed completely just because of that lady and her so-called child.

“Don't you dare Elena, He yelled at me back which stopped me from taking.”

You can't just shut me up, Marcus. I have to speak for the sake of my daughter this time.

The money that could save Lily. You're using it to save her child instead."

"That's not" He began, then stopped, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up for the first time that night. "It's complicated."

"Complicated," I repeated, tasting the word like poison. "There's nothing complicated about it, Marcus. You're choosing her child over ours. You're choosing her over us."

"She needs me," he said, his voice dropping to a pleading tone. "Her kidney is high-risk. The doctors said."

"What about Lily?" I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat with such force that it hurt. "What about our daughter? Did her doctors say she didn't need her father? Did they say she didn't need the treatment that could save her life?"

"Of course not, but" He reached for me, his hands grasping my arms. "Elena, please. You have to understand."

I jerked away from his touch as if it burned. "Understand what? Understand that you've been lying to me for months? Understand that you've been spending your savings on another child while our daughter is here dying? Is that what you want me to understand?"

"I never meant for this to happen," he said, and for a moment, I saw genuine remorse in his eyes. The child's father is my friend Seth, whom you also know about, he assigned me to take care of his daughter since he is out of town.

He left without leaving a single penny of cash with them, so you see I have to do everything in my power to keep my promise to him, because I don't want anything to happen to his child or daughter. Marcus said with an innocent face.

Shaking my head in disbelief. "And now it's costing our daughter her life."

"That's not fair," he protested, but the protest was weak. "I'm trying to help both of them. I just need more time."

"Lily doesn't have more time," I said, my voice hollow. "She doesn't have another week for you to 'arrange the money.' She doesn't have another day. She barely has another hour."

Marcus flinched as if I had struck him. "That's not true. Dr. Chen said she was stable for now."

"Dr. Chen said she was holding on," I corrected him. "There's a difference. She's fighting, Marcus. She's fighting for her life while you're out helping another family."

I walked past him, out of the laundry room, and back into the living room. The moonlight had shifted, casting new shadows across the floor. Shadows that looked suspiciously like coffins.

"Where are you going?" He called after me.

Without giving him a response, I went to my daughter's room who is fast asleep. We just got back from the hospital since the money for the surgery is yet to be settled.

I turned the handle of her room slowly, easing the door open with a gentleness that belied the panic thrumming through my veins. The room was dark except for the soft breath of her sleep.

Lily lay so still against the crisp white sheets, her small chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

I moved to her bedside on silent feet, not wanting to disturb the precious rest she so desperately needed. My fingers trembled as I reached out to brush a stray curl from her forehead, her skin was so cool beneath my touch.

*What a pity soul,* I thought, the words catching in my throat like a sob. I don't want to lose my daughter. I don't want her to suffer. I don't want her to die.

And Marcus, where was Marcus when our daughter needed him most? The thought brought a fresh wave of anger, hot and sharp. While I sat vigil beside our dying child, he was probably somewhere else which I don't want to even think about.

Careful not to disturb her sleep, I closed my eyes, breathing in the essence of my child, memorizing the feel of her small body pressed against mine as if I could somehow absorb her pain, somehow take it into myself and spare her this suffering.

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, the alarm was ringing. It was morning already.

“I quickly got down on the bed and found myself moving toward the kitchen, my hands working automatically as if they had a will of their own. Marcus always liked his breakfast ready when he woke up, even on mornings when he was rushing out the door. Even on mornings when he hadn't bothered to come home until after I had already gone to bed.

The sizzle of eggs in the pan filled the kitchen with a comforting aroma, a small piece of normalcy in a world that had been tilting on its axis for months. I was just plating the omelette when I heard the bedroom door open, followed by the familiar sound of Marcus's footsteps in the room.

He emerged from our bedroom without so much as a glance in my direction, his attention was focused on the expensive watch he was strapping to his wrist. His suit was perfectly pressed, his hair styled with meticulous care as if he were heading to an important business meeting rather than whatever he actually did during his "emergency visits"

I called out his name, but he didn't answer, didn't even break stride as he strode toward the front door. What could possibly make him so hurried that he couldn't even spare a moment for the breakfast I had made?

That's when it hit me, I hadn't washed his jacket yesterday. The one I had tossed at the laundry room before disappearing into Lily's room. I glanced over at the coat rack by the door and saw him reaching for another jacket, a more casual one than the one he usually wore to work. So that was it. He was upset because I hadn't done his laundry. He was rushing off to see his other family while I was expected to keep up with his domestic demands.

I hissed through my teeth, grabbing a plate of the omelette I had just made. If he didn't want it, fine. Lily would.

Lily's room was still dark when I entered, but as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see that she was awake, sitting up in bed with her stuffed rabbit clutched in her arms. I forced a smile onto my face, pushing aside the anger and hurt that had been simmering inside me since Marcus's return.

"Hello, beautiful," I called out softly, my voice gentle. No matter what chaos was swirling in my life, I never let Lily see the worry on my face, never let her know how fragile our world had become.

She offered a small smile, her eyes still heavy with sleep. "Good morning, Mom."

"Morning, dear," I answered, placing the breakfast tray on her bedside table while she adjusted herself to make room for me. I climbed onto the bed beside her, pulling the blankets around us both.

"Have you brushed your teeth?" I asked, running my fingers through her tangled curls.

She nodded. "Yes, Mom."

"That's good. Now here's your breakfast so you can take your pills."

She picked up her fork but hesitated, her eyes finding mine. "Mom, where's Dad?"

I went silent for a moment, my mind racing. How could I tell her that her father had left the house without even coming to check on her? How could I explain that he didn't care enough to say goodbye to her before leaving, that he was choosing to pay for another child's medical bills instead of hers?

I quickly pasted on another smile, hoping it didn't look as false as it felt. "He got a call and had to leave early," I said, keeping my voice light. "He said he would be back soon to spend some time with you."

Lily's face brightened at this, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "Okay, Mom."

"No more questions," I said playfully, picking up the fork and cutting a small piece of omelette.

"Time to eat."

I fed her bite by bite, my heart aching with each swallow. She ate without complaint, though I could tell she had little appetite. When she was done, I handed her the small cup with her daily pills, so many medications for such a little body, and watched as she dutifully swallowed them with a sip of water.

"All done," she announced, settling back against her pillows with a sigh.

"Good girl," I said, brushing her hair back from her forehead. "Now try to rest. I'll be right here if you need anything."

She nodded, her eyes already drifting closed again as the medication began to pull her back under. I watched her sleep for a long time, my mind replaying Marcus' new attitude

As I sat there, watching the steady rise and fall of Lily's chest, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out reluctantly, assuming it was Marcus calling to make another excuse or to demand that I wash his jacket.

But it wasn't Marcus's name on the screen. It was an unknown number, and beneath it, was a single text message that made my blood run cold.

“I couldn't believe my eyes with what I'm seeing.”