A Donna's Last Retreat

Before Malcolm left, he tore the annulment papers to shreds.

He warned me with a cold smile not to test his limits again.

I quietly picked up every last scrap of paper and silently pieced them back together.

It wasn't just paper he'd torn apart. It was my dignity.

After being discharged from the hospital, I stood on a street in SoHo, waiting for a car.

My body was weak after the miscarriage. The moment the cold SoHo rain hit me, the color drained from my lips.

Just as I was about to faint, the harsh blare of a horn sounded in my ear.

Malcolm sat in a black Cadillac, looking at me impatiently.

"I thought you were leaving the hospital? Get in the car!"

The front passenger window rolled down.

Penny stuck her head out, her smile sickeningly sweet.

"Sierra! Malcolm came to get me, and we thought we'd pick you up too!"

"Don't be shy. Get in."

I watched her quietly.

Penny had always been like this.

From the moment we met, she had been openly hostile toward me.

I'm deathly allergic to pistachios. A mild reaction closes my throat; a severe one sends me into anaphylactic shock.

When Penny found out, she deliberately mixed pistachio paste into the dessert on our wedding night.

On my wedding night, I ended up in the intensive care unit.

As soon as I woke up, I heard a tearful voice.

"Malcolm, I didn't mean to."

Penny sobbed, a perfectly timed tear sliding down her cheek.

"I just wanted to play a little joke on her. Who knew she was so fragile!"

Malcolm's face was ashen.

He didn't speak.

Seeing his expression, Penny knew just how to twist the knife.

"Malcolm, I did it for you."

"That woman set you up. Are you really going to punish your own cousin for her sake?"

After a long silence, Malcolm sighed.

He reached out and stroked Penny's head.

"I wasn't worried about her. I was worried about the effect this would have on you."

"Who the hell does Sierra Bonanno think she is? She's not fit to be mentioned in the same breath as you."

Penny's tears turned to smiles.

Lying in the hospital bed, I closed my eyes and cried silent tears.

From then on, I backed down, time and time again.

Until this time, on the grand spiral staircase of the Long Island estate, when Penny shoved me, three months pregnant, down the stairs.

I had no room left to retreat.

"No, thank you."

I politely shook my head.

I walked over to the taxi I had just hailed.

"I've already called a car. You two can go."

Malcolm's face instantly turned to ice.

He spat out two words.

"Suit yourself."

As the car passed me, Malcolm ordered the driver to speed up, deliberately splashing me with muddy water.

I staggered, nearly falling.

I frowned, my anger rising.

But Malcolm's car had already sped away.

I sat silently in the back of the taxi.

The driver must have noticed the look on my face, because he tried to make conversation with a friendly smile.

"Boyfriend trouble, miss?"

"You should give him a piece of your mind when you get back. No man should treat his girl like that. It's just wrong."

I forced a stiff smile.

I didn't explain that I wasn't Malcolm's girlfriend, but an enemy he'd rather see dead.

Back at the De Luca family's penthouse apartment, I silently packed my things.

I didn't have much in the room to begin with.

Most of it was things Malcolm had bought for me.

He said my simple tastes were an embarrassment to him.

He bought me piles of jewelry and had countless haute couture gowns custom-made for me.

I'd be lying if I said I was never moved.

But every time a secret joy began to blossom inside me, Malcolm would mercilessly shatter my illusions.