A Lie in the Name of Care

"I've done everything for you, but you never consider my needs," Dale said, voice thick with disappointment. "A man in my position needs an heir, or people will laugh. Cecily's child is mine, and I'm keeping it."

He snatched my phone and scooped up Cecily. "We're going to the hospital to make sure nothing is wrong."

"Okay." Cecily nodded meekly, shooting me a smug smirk.

The room fell silent, but my heart ached with Dale's words. Tears streamed down my face as I recalled our engagement.

Dale, usually so stoic, had cried like a child, kneeling before me. "I want to build a home with you and care for you forever. I've shielded you from storms, and I'll keep you safe and happy."

I had said yes without hesitation, moved by his sincerity.

He'd once taken a knife for me, proving he'd risk his life to protect me. Now, he was the one plunging a knife into my heart.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Once cooled, I continued to pack my things.

Dale thought that he could trap me by taking my phone, but no amount of data could hold me back.

I went to the study to retrieve my documents, but the lock's password had been changed.

I laughed bitterly. They'd done something so despicable, yet they thought they could cage me.

I bit my lip, my sadness hardening into resolve. I pulled a medical report from the bottom drawer and gripped it tightly.

If they wouldn't let me go, I'd make this blow up. We would see who'd be crying in the end.

...

The next day, Dale and Cecily returned.

Dale's tone carried a hint of glee. "You cool with us three living together now? You see, Cecily won't mess with our marriage. She just wants a kid, and so do I. Once the baby is born, she and I are done."

Cecily forced a smile, reaching for my arm. "I'm so glad you're coming around. I don't want to lose you. We're still best friends, right? Oh, where is that bag you got me from your trip?"

I yanked my arm free. "Thrown away."

Her smile faded, giving way to a quiet sorrow. Dale patted her back comfortingly.

"Don't get upset. It's bad for the baby," he cooed. "The latest deal is done, and I'll get you an even better bag."

I snorted, ignoring their theatrics. "Who said the deal was done? I told you I came back early. The contract signing is today, and Mr. Powers will only negotiate with me."

I fixed Dale with an icy stare and continued, "Only I can sign that contract. You wouldn't let your mistress mess up the deal, would you?"

He scowled, stung by the threat in my words, but he masked it. "Of course not."

I underestimated their scheming.

They invited Cuthbert Powers to our house for dinner and to discuss business. They thought it was a clever move, but it could be my chance to escape.

Dale's tone carried a warning. "I don't want it to come to this, but you are being difficult. I'm worried you'll botch the contract or leave after signing. Mr. Powers is a friend, and this will build trust."

Cecily sidled up with a fake smile. "Why don't you cook tonight to show our sincerity?"

We had a housekeeper to cook for us, and we could order takeout. Yet they insisted I cook to put me in my place.

"If you could have kids, I wouldn't have to do this," Dale said, sounding justified. "This is your fault."

I saw through their game but played along. "Give me my phone. I need to get some files from the office."

Dale reluctantly handed it over, watching me closely until he confirmed I was only contacting my assistant.

Once I finished, he took the phone back and pushed me toward the kitchen. "Mr. Powers will be here soon. Start cooking."

I snorted under my breath. He had no idea the guest wasn't a client. It was my way out.

Cecily leaned against the kitchen door, inspecting her nails and lifting her nose in the air. "No onions or greasy stuff. What are you making? I'm carrying Dale's only child. I can't eat junk."

Dale stormed over and dumped my cooking in the trash. "Redo it! My kid deserves the best."

"Why would I care about what your bastard eats?" I countered. "If Cecily is so picky, she can cook for herself."

They were about to snap at me when the doorbell rang.

I brushed past them, opened the door, and welcomed the guest.

Cecily nestled in Dale's arms, whining, "I'm carrying your child, and Abigail calls it a bastard. She's still holding a grudge."

Her voice suddenly trailed off, her face turning pale. Dale looked over and froze.

They scrambled apart, panic-stricken.

I watched with a smirk. "Keep talking. Didn't you say that you couldn't eat this because you're carrying Dale's child? Why don't you repeat that to your husband?"