The Lie He Called Love

Koch

elief. He stared at the small pharmacy bag in my hand, then at my slightly rounded stom

he could process it, before he could ask the question that hung

lena. About the wedding. It' s... well, it' s postponed. Just for a year. Because of me." She lowered her gaze, feigni

d. Maybe... maybe you could just have your wedding at the same time as ours? A joint ceremony? It would save so much mon

thetic. "I' m already married," I stated, my voice flat, devo

y' s 'cute' suggestion, too busy patting Jake on the back. "Oh, Alena, don' t be like that!" one of them chirped, a wom

pulling me against his chest. His touch, once familiar, now felt foreign and invasive. "You' re just upset," he murmured into my hair, hi

h the quiet pharmacy. The sound was deafening. "I' m married," I repeated, louder this time, my voice

d into angry slits. "Married? What kind of sick joke is this, Alena? You think you can just play

I remembered taking on extra shifts, saving every penny, sacrificing my dreams for his "future." Three years of waiting, of being pushed aside, of watching him lavish his

d a large, steaming clay pot of traditional medicine, left cooling, tipped precariously. My body moved without thought. I

p, shoving me away with a force that sent me stumbling, his focus entirely on catching

plashed up, searing pain blooming on my ankle and foot. My scream was raw, involuntary

with a fleeting horror. But he didn' t move. He didn' t offer a hand. He just stood there,

cold water to douse my burning skin. A passing nurse, seeing my distress, rushed over and helped me to a private room, calling for a doctor immediately. I sat on the examination table

d with concern. "You look a little... pale. And you mentioned concepti

my ribs, a new fear ecli