Neglected Wife, Dying Vengeance

a man who saw me as the hired help, and a

ay, my husband came home

hadn't seen in yea

" he said. "She's

family's reaction was to demand I divorce my husband so he

y tormented my son, bullying him

ed our son across the face in public for r

ge wasn't a shield for my son; it wa

husband's penthouse. My final act of revenge would be to die on

pte

Blackw

stones fell on the same day, a date circled in red on the

ur-themed plates were perfectly aligned, the matching napkins folded into li

morning, my voice small as he adjusted his tie in the hall m

m, a thing I no longer bothered to mention. It had been years since he' d acknowled

fixed on his own image, not mine

n. Each tick was a small, sharp jab against my ribs. The balloon

nt straight to voicemail.

body. I knew why he was doing this. He resented me. He resented this marriage, a union his wealthy, e

ll a void until the "real" queen returned. I had accepted my role, playing t

ve could change him. My second biggest mistake was

o his own son was a blade that twisted in me daily. He saw Bonnie not a

d a father who looked at him with love, not with

stood by the window, his little nose pressed against the cool glass, his breath fogging a s

g. "He' s just stuck in traffic. Why don' t we

evan ruin this fo

yes. He clapped his hands together, took a deep breath, and blew. As the last f

nt door

terated joy. He scrambled off his chair and

itorous leap of hope. H

nto the living room. He wasn' t alone. A small, u

ure suit that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. He had sharp, intelligen

ingly adult gaze, his eyes sweeping over my simple

s voice was crisp and cl

onfusion crashed over me. Was this his son? Another son? The

led down at the boy, a warm, genuine smile I h

smooth as silk, "this is Chel

he air, heavy and

the frantic beating of my own heart-it all faded into a dull, roaring static. I fe

loving a man who saw me as nothing more than the hired

elt like drowning washed over me.

uch grounding me. He looked up at me, his face a canvas o

for less than a minute before handing him back to the nurse, his expression unreadable. I' d poured every ounce of my l

s capable of being a doting father. Just not to ou

up from my throat. Fine. If I was th

in the eye, and held out my hand. "In that

omposure finally cracking. "

sekeeper for the past seven years. And an additional fee for my nanny serv

flickered in his eyes. He reached into his wallet, pulled out a thick stack of hundred-do

rs of my life, my love, my devotion were wor

spen, piped up, tugging on Kevan' s sleeve.

ild. "This is my house. If a

hielded Aspen behind him as if I were some kind of

"I hate you, Kevan," I whispered, the words tasting like poison and freedom on my tongue. "But

me an interloper! Daddy, I' m not an interloper!

know I possessed. "Mine and Bonnie' s! You want me to leave? You' r