When A Quiet Woman Snaps

I slid into the silver Bentley and drove straight to the private pier.

In the passenger seat: a goodbye letter, a pill bottle, and a crumpled ultrasound report. Three tiny heartbeats, clear as day.

No one knew I was pregnant.

I didn't tell Jackson. To him, I was just another thing to control. He wouldn't care about the babies either.

I sat on the bench, sea breeze slicing through me.

Shivering, I popped the cap off the bottle and tipped one pill into my palm.

Tears hit my barely-there bump.

"Mommy's such an idiot," I whispered. "I'm sorry, babies."

Then—movement. Soft. Real. Like tiny hands knocking from the inside.

They were there. They'd been there all along.

My eyes snapped open. My hand shook. The pill slipped and hit the ground.

A voice in my head: 'Isabella, you can't die. You're not alone anymore.'

I ditched the stupid idea and drove back.

By the time I pulled up, it was pitch black. Lights on. Jackson's Rolls out front. He was already home.

I wiped my face, fixed my expression, walked in like nothing happened.

The entry light flipped on.

"Bella? Why so late?" Jackson walked over, voice smooth, eyes soft. "Thanksgiving. Thought you had a surprise planned. But... no dinner?"

"You already ate at the party, didn't you?"

He paused. Shifted. "Lina came back."

Lina. My twin. Raised in the spotlight. Talented, glowing.

Me? Diagnosed early with a tremor. Not deadly—just shaky hands, soft voice.

To my parents, I was the broken one. A PR disaster. So they sent me off, called it "foster care." It was abandonment, plain and simple.

Years later, when they finally came looking, they still couldn't meet my eyes. I was just a smudge on their perfect image.

"Lina invited us to her grad party," Jackson said, watching me. "Yale Law. She's trying to fix things with your family."

His tone flipped cold. "Compared to her, why are you so difficult?"

I didn't answer.

"You'll go, right?"

I met his gaze, flat. "I'll go."

He smiled, leaned in. I turned. His lips caught my cheek.

"I'm tired."

He froze. Smile gone. "Then get some rest."

As I turned, his arms wrapped around me. Chest warm against my back. Too familiar.

"You're still too emotional," he muttered. "Everyone's being patient, but you always lash out."

I closed my eyes. One last tear fell. Quiet.