LOGIN[Alice’s POV]Adam lowered me onto the soft sofa, propping pillows under me where I lay. “Stay flat. Don’t strain,” he commanded.Sarah came hurrying back, breathless, holding a plastic cup nearly filled with steaming warm water.“Here, try to drink, lady,” she said, her voice like a soft cloud. “It helps the pain go away. That’s what Mommy does when I have a cold.” Her big eyes were filled with pure, honest kindness.This genuine care — free of any judgement or hidden agendas — felt like a small fire in a frozen world. Unexpected. Welcome. Comforting.I took a few sips. The warmth spread through me, easing the tension a little. “Thank you, honey,” I managed. I tried to smile but it felt brittle.“Uncle Adam, her hands are so cold.” Sarah rubbed her own small palms together and then tucked my fingers inside them, to share her warmth. “See? Now they aren't cold.”Adam watched us, a flicker of softness in his expression.He went to the kitchen and returned with electrolyte water and a h
[Alice’s POV]I was about to respond, but a violent, white-hot spasm tore through my lower abdomen.The pain came without warning. It felt like something was being ripped apart inside me. I doubled over, the medal clattering onto the wooden bench next to me.“Mom?” Camilla’s smile faltered. She looked annoyed, then confused. “Are you mad? Because I didn't want you to play?”I couldn't breathe, let alone speak.A cold sweat broke across my forehead. I recalled the warning from the clinic: Uterine fibroids complicating a pregnancy.My body was like a glass house. The pregnancy hormones and rich blood supply were feeding the fibroids, making them grow aggressively. This pain was a warning. I was fully aware that the next stage could be hemorrhage.Nobody knew about the baby. Not even David, since he classified its existence as a ‘performance’. A fabrication.I had imagined a hundred beautiful ways to tell everyone, but now, the ‘perfect’ Lily was standing just a few yards away, acting l
[Alice’s POV]I walked into the kitchen this morning and found it waiting for me on the island marble countertop.A pink cardstock flyer, tucked neatly under Camilla’s backpack. It had that crisp, pretentious finish, typical of Santa Monica private schools.[FAMILY DAY – PARENTS & GUARDIANS WELCOME]Friday Morning: Field Day, Family Picnic, and PortraitsI stared at the date for two seconds, my heart skipping a beat. No!Today was Friday!The image of Camilla standing alone alongside the track, watching other kids high-five their parents, hit me like a physical blow. The guilt was suffocating. David was right about one thing: no matter how much of a train wreck our marriage was, I couldn't let it ruin her childhood.Without thinking, I grabbed my keys and flew out the door.The school grounds were a sea of blue and white flags, hydrogen balloons, and branded backdrops. The air smelled of expensive sunscreen and fresh-cut grass. The cheering was so loud, it felt abrasive.I spotted her
Alice’s POVHe let out a quiet, self-mocking breath. Then he reached for his clothes, crumpled on the floor. He started to dress, buttoned his shirt — slowly, one button at a time.His fingers had become steady. More controlled. As if the man who had just clung to me, unravelled in my arms, needy and almost boyish, had never existed at all. A remarkable transformation.For a second, I honestly wondered if I’d imagined him being vulnerable.“Yeah,” he said finally. His voice had already shifted; back to that familiar low, contained tone. Professional. Detached. Almost ironic. “I shouldn’t have pushed you when I was like that.”It sounded considerate. Reasonable. But what I heard was retreat. Damage control.He was sealing off the moment, cleanly, efficiently, and putting me back where I belonged: somewhere safe, distant, and irrelevant.The room went quiet. He didn’t look at me. As he dressed, his gaze hovered somewhere near the nightstand, unfocused, like he was doing mental math or r
Alice’s POVThe next second, he rolled over and pinned me beneath him, the mattress dipping under our combined weight.It should have scared me — being trapped like that, his body a solid, undeniable presence — but the look in his eyes wasn’t aggression. It was something worse. Confirmation. Possession. A desperate need to be certain.He kissed me.The taste of alcohol was sharp. This wasn’t one of those polite, distant kisses we’d perfected over the years. This was reckless. Hungry. Like he was trying to swallow me whole. Like if he didn’t, he might lose me, lose us.“Say you love me, Alice. Say it now,” he murmured against my lips, his voice breaking into threads of raw desperation. It was the closest he had ever come to pleading.His body radiated heat through the thin layers of fabric between us. For a moment, the world shrank down to this bed, this breath, this unexpected closeness. For a moment, I almost believed I was the only thing he saw. I wanted to believe.Then his kisses
Alice’s POVMy phone rang deep into the night. I sat up in the bed. The sound felt wrong — too loud, too sudden. I answered with a disturbed feeling that I couldn’t explain.“Are you David Newcombe’s wife?” The man on the line sounded polite, professional.“This is the Hilton Hotel. Your husband is intoxicated. He’s currently holding onto one of our male staff members, calling out your name — Alice — and insisting on going home. We found your contact information in his wallet. Would you be able to come in?”For a moment, everything inside me dropped. “Please, just get him a room,” I said, keeping my tone steady. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”I dressed, went downstairs and woke the housekeeper, telling her that I was going to be out, and to watch Camilla for me until I got back.I grabbed my purse and my coat.Streetlights slipped past the car’s windscreen one by one, but my thoughts refused to line up. David almost never lost control. He drank, yes — but not like this. Not to t







