Six Years of Poisoned Love

rning for six years. I drank every drop, desperate for the chil

The supplements were contraceptives. And his mist

of Alexander kissing

t read. "You were just the plac

d me, stealing my dream of motherhood while

ve I was the one who was broken, all while livi

planned a "romantic surprise" on a giant screen for all our f

pte

for years: to hold a child of my own, a tiny bundle made of love and Alexander. But that night, as the final candle glow

I had been married, navigating the glittering world of New York' s elite. He was the brilliant tech mogul, I, the passionate gallery owner. Our public image was

hey'd ask, their voices light, unaware of the raw nerve they touched. I'd smile, a practiced, brittle thing, and Alexander would always swoop in, his arm

vasive medical procedures I'd started to consider. Every morning, he' d bring a warm mug to my bedside, the herbal concoction smelling faintly of ginseng and so

ed my humble background somehow made me unworthy, less fertile than the women of Alexander' s prestigious lineage. His parents, always polite, had

s. I needed answers, a clear path forward. I scheduled an appointment with a top

lding. It was idling a block away, tucked discreetly behind a delivery truck. Something about it felt wrong. It was to

me, the one I usually ignored, urged me to follow. It was an impulse, a whisper of suspicion I couldn't shake. I hailed a cab, my heart thu

more residential area. He pulled up to a modest, yet elegant, private residence-a place I'd never seen before. It wasn'

dress, stood by the gate. Her hair, a cascade of dark curls, framed a

ading across his face, a smile I hadn't seen directed at me in months, perhaps years. It was loose, unburdened, full of an easy joy that twi

ss the quiet street, sharp and clear even throug

. "Had to make sure Haylie was set

e. A cold wave washed over me, leaving me

't she? So tragic." Her eyes, dark and glittering, met Alexander's. "Good thing you've got me, t

l I need, Carson." Carson. The name felt like a knife twisting in an open wo

She's too busy drowning in her organic baby dust." Then, with a brazenness that stole my breath, she lean

un, the world tilting precariously. I gripped the seat, trying to steady myself. The

ord tasting like ash. "Jus

ce my sanctuary, now felt like a gilded cage. It was late, the city lights painting streaks across the floor. M

you weren't feeling well. I've prepared your special tonic." She held out a steaming mug, the famili

innocent steam curling upwards, a cruel mockery. A cold, hard knot formed in my stomach, ti

fe within me. I'd endured countless doctor' s visits, the invasive tests, the pitying looks of nurses. Alexander had always been there, holding my hand,

to be that woman. I had sought stability, loyalty, a partnership built on trust. Alexander, with his impeccable charm, his powerful f

him, failing our future. I had even started exploring more drastic options, IVF, surrogacy, anything to

before my eyes. Fertility tonic. The

nto the living room, his tie loosened, a faint scent of an unfamiliar perfume clinging to him. He looked disarmingly concerned,

of hope, now reeked of deceit. I saw it then, a faint smudge of bright red on the collar

hisper. "I'm... I'm not feeling well, Alexan

rength if we're going to make a baby, don't you?" He took the mug from Mrs. Jenkins, his gaze lingering on my face. "You know, I was so worried when I we

ce barely steady. "A gallery matter. But I came right back. The traffic was awful ne

ome, my love." He walked closer, forcing the mug into my hand. "Drink up. For our future. For

s in this? I mean, after all these years, it's not working. Maybe it's time we r

ost natural solution. It just takes time. Patience, my love. Patience." His tone was fi

sheer, crushing weight of his betrayal. He watched me, a small, triumphant smile playing on his lips. He pulled a small, intricately carved wooden charm from his pocket, a fertility

ow could I have been so foolish? So utterly blind? My gaze drifted to the coffee table whe

before I could stop them, a desperate plea for