Chapter 3
The hospital room felt like a prison by the third day. Beige walls, antiseptic smell, and the constant beeping of machines marking time in this limbo I'd been thrust into. Grace had gone home to shower and change, leaving me alone with my thoughts—dangerous companions after everything that had happened.
The nurse had just finished checking my vitals when an orderly arrived with a package.
"Special delivery for Ms. Franklin," he said cheerfully, oblivious to my situation.
The box was small, wrapped in pale pink paper with a white ribbon—Mina's signature colors. My fingers trembled as I tore it open, some masochistic part of me needing to know what fresh hell she'd devised.
Inside lay three pregnancy tests, all positive, alongside a black and white ultrasound image. My stomach lurched as I unfolded the note written in Mina's looping, girlish handwriting:
*Dearest Emmie,*
*Surprise! While you've been playing dress-up bride, Jason and I have been creating something real. That's right—I'm carrying his baby. Our baby. The one thing you couldn't give him after your little "accident" three months ago.*
*It's time for you to step aside for the real woman in his life. Jason has always been mine—you were just keeping his bed warm. If you try to come between us, I'll destroy everything else you hold dear, just like that dusty old house.*
*Congratulations on the almost-wedding!*
*XOXO,*
*Mina (and baby Wood)*
The room spun as bile rose in my throat. I barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting, my body rejecting this final betrayal more violently than it had the urine-filled chalice.
Seven years. Seven years while he'd been sleeping with her, creating a child with her, planning to marry me for my family's money while building a secret life with Mina.
I crawled back to bed, clutching the ultrasound photo so tightly it crumpled in my fist. The pregnancy tests clattered to the floor as I curled into myself, a wounded animal seeking escape from unimaginable pain.
Three hours later, Jason finally appeared. Three days after abandoning me unconscious at the altar, he strolled in wearing fresh clothes, sunglasses pushed back on his perfectly styled hair, not a hint of concern on his face.
"You're looking better," he said casually, as if greeting me after a minor cold rather than a catastrophic betrayal.
I held up the crumpled ultrasound. "Congratulations, Daddy."
His face paled momentarily before settling into the practiced expression of innocence I'd fallen for countless times. "Emmie, that's—you don't understand."
"I understand perfectly. Seven years, Jason. Seven years while you fucked her behind my back. While you gaslit me into believing I was crazy for suspecting something. While you let her terrorize me and burn down my mother's home."
"That was just a harmless prank," he said, his voice taking on the patronizing tone I'd grown to hate. "You're overreacting, as usual. The house was just a building. Mina's fragile right now—she needs me more than you do."
"Fragile?" I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "The woman who drove a car at me? Who fed me urine at our wedding? That's who you're calling fragile?"
"See, this is exactly why I've been keeping things from you," Jason sighed dramatically. "You get so emotional. Mina and I were just testing if our love was real. If you'd been stronger, you would have passed the test."
The door opened before I could respond, and my father entered, his face grim but composed. He carried a leather portfolio under his arm.
"Jason," he said coldly, "I think it's time we had a frank discussion about your intentions toward my daughter."
Jason's charm switched on instantly. "Mr. Franklin, this is all a misunderstanding—"
"Is it?" My father opened the portfolio and removed several documents. "My investigator has been quite thorough. Your family's company is three months from bankruptcy. You have personal debts exceeding two million dollars. And these—" he spread photographs across my hospital bed "—show you and Ms. Davis together throughout your entire relationship with Emmie."
The photos told the story I'd been too blind to see: Jason and Mina kissing at a resort the weekend he'd claimed to be on a business trip; the two of them entering a hotel room on our anniversary; intimate moments that made my stomach turn.
Jason's facade cracked. "You had me investigated? That's—"
"Prudent," my father finished for him. "Unlike my daughter, I never trusted you. I respected her choice, but I prepared for this day."
I stared at the evidence of my wasted years, something cold and resolute settling in my chest.
"Get out," I whispered. "We're done."
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