His Illness Was A Weapon

he doctor for my husband Jackson' s severe contamination

every single one of his pathological rules for his mistress-kissing her feet

tect his reputation, he threatened to cut o

ly announce I was barren and welcome hi

been a lie designed to control and humiliate

reporters, he handed me the script for my

said, "I am here today to announce tha

pte

Carte

, exhausted doctor. But even in that sterile, controlled experiment, I never expected to find a used cond

CD. Six years of turning our home into a pristine, almost surgical environment just for him. Six years of

be disinfected. He' d inspect my nails for any trace of dirt, his gaze cold and critical. It felt less

le scent I wore. It was cloying, almost sickeningly saccharine. It clung to the leather seats, a vulgar stain

house, my legs feeling like jelly. Jackson was in his study, probably sanitizing his desk agai

lding it between my thumb and forefinger as if it

the car?" His denial was immediate, dismissive, and utterly devoid of conviction. "You know I never let a

I knew his car was his sacred space, a fortress against the world' s impurities. No one, abso

I said, my voice barely a whisper. My own

Perhaps you're stressed. Why don't you get some rest?" He dismiss

all. Jackson' s executive assistant, a nervous man named Arthur, had always harbored a

, his voice tight with anxiety. "

tell me about Karma Underwood." I heard him suck in a shar

Carter, I... I saw them, last week. At the street festival. He w

made me scrub myself raw, who recoiled from a speck of dust. My heart didn't

ver forced on me," I whispered,

st taste. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Carter. I tried to warn y

g. The shock was giving way to something cold

hoed in the empty space of my mind, stark

e had set in. Arthur's frantic call had warned me that Jackson and Karma were in a "private meeting."

is face pale and drawn. He didn' t try to stop me. He just

emergency key card – a relic from a time when he trusted me, when my role was to ma

ers that would usually send him into a frenzy, Karma sat on Jackson' s lap. Her hands were tangled in his hair, her bright red lipstick smudged across hi

ling off Jackson's lap, her eyes wide with shock. Jackso

ight on his desk, a gift from his father, and sent it crashing to the mar

the glass. No, his concern was for the potential damage to his perfect, sterile environment.

clutching at Jackson' s arm. "Oh, Jackson

apers from my briefcase and tossed them onto his desk. They landed with a soft thud,

understanding. Karma is just a junior paralegal, she was helping me with some late-night fi

, Dr. Carter, it's true! I was just so exhauste

e compartment, Jackson, smelled suspiciously like Karma' s cheap perfume. And Arthur told me abou

cted facade cracking. He glared at Karma, wh

, coercive tone. "Think about your reputation. My parents. We can fix this.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'll handle this. Don't worry about a

t of me. Six years of my life, six years of meticulous care, and he

tly, Dr. Carter, you're just jealous. Jackson deserves someone

tinging slap echoed through the room. Karma cried out, her hand flying to

scaping his throat. "Alyssa! What the hell is wrong wit

kson' s chest, clinging to him. "She's trying to

ing realization of what I had become. A woman capable of violence, driven by a hatred I hadn't known I possessed. Six years of sacrificing

free from Jackson' s grip. My voice was cold, sharp, and utterly devoid of warmth. "You think my va

bewilderment. "Alyssa, don't make a scene.

every promise. You invited filth into my home, into our bed. And now you expect me to quietly disappear?" My eye

Sign. Or I will make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of ma