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Erased from his life, Engraved in his downfall Novel Cover

Erased from his life, Engraved in his downfall

At eight weeks pregnant with twins; the furthest I had ever made it, I walked into my husband’s law firm with dinner in one hand and a pregnancy test hidden in my purse, saving the surprise for the end of the night. I never got the chance. Through the half-open blinds of the conference room, I watched my husband press my best friend against the table while he laughed about my miscarriages, called my grief draining, and admitted he had only married me for the inheritance my father left behind. They spoke casually about my divorce, about how he would take half of everything I owned, and about the life they planned to build once I was out of the way. I left without a sound, drove away in shock, and woke up in a hospital bed, where I said nothing when the doctors told me my babies were still alive. So I stayed. I smiled while he moved his pregnant mistress into my home, watched her take my space piece by piece, and pretended not to notice as my money, my marriage, and my name slowly disappeared. Until the night he pushed me too far. They thought the dark water swallowed me whole. They were wrong. I survived, I lost my children, and when I finally returned, it wasn’t as his wife anymore, but as the woman who would make him confess everything.
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Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"Pregnant?" The word hung between us like a grenade with its pin removed.

Rachael nodded, her hand instinctively moving to her still-flat stomach in a gesture I knew too well. "I just found out this morning. I haven't told anyone else yet."

I felt the room spin around me as realization crashed down. While I carried Douglas's twins, Rachael carried his child too.

"I'm so happy for you," I lied, forcing my lips into a smile that felt like it might crack my face. "Who's the father?"

Rachael's eyes darted away from mine. "It's... complicated."

"Isn't it always?" I said, keeping my voice light as I poured us both tea with steady hands. "Is he married?"

Rachael choked on her pastry. "What? No! I mean, why would you ask that?"

The memory of Rachael's divorce three years ago flashed through my mind. Her tearful confession over wine about catching Ade with his secretary, the messy settlement, her vow never to trust so easily again. How ironic that she had now become the very thing she once despised.

"Just checking," I said. "After what happened with Ade... I wouldn't want you to get hurt again."

Rachael winced at her ex-husband's name. "This is different," she said softly.

"Different how?"

"He loves me. Really loves me. Not like Ade."

I took a sip of tea, studying her over the rim of my cup. "Does he know about the baby?"

"Not yet. I'm scared to tell him."

"Why?"

She hesitated. "His situation is... delicate right now. There are things he needs to sort out first."

"Like what?"

"Emma, please," she said, irritation creeping into her voice. "I don't want to get into details."

I backed off, letting her think she'd won. "Of course. I'm sorry for prying."

She relaxed, taking another pastry. "There's something else I need to tell you. My apartment building is being renovated. The landlord just informed us yesterday, some kind of foundation issue. Everyone has to be out by Friday."

"That's awful," I said, watching her carefully. "Do you know where you're going?"

"Not yet," she said, gathering her purse. "I'm still figuring it out. Maybe a hotel for now."

She stood up suddenly. "I should go. I need to get back to the office."

The same office where my husband worked. Where he was probably waiting for her right now.

"Let me know if you need anything," I said, embracing her one last time.

"You're the best, Emma," she whispered against my hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

After she left, I sat alone in the silence of my living room, one hand resting protectively on my stomach. I thought of the three lives now entangled in this web of lies: my twins and Rachael's baby, half-siblings who might never know each other.

My phone buzzed. A text from Douglas: How was your visit with Rachael?

I stared at the message. He'd never asked about my day before. This sudden interest felt calculated.

Good. She told me her news, I replied.

Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared again. Finally: What news?

“About the baby. And her apartment situation.”

“Oh. Right. A long pause. Poor thing. We should help her.”

There it was. The setup. I could almost see him and Rachael planning this conversation, rehearsing their lines.

How? I typed back.

Maybe she could stay with us for a bit. Just until she finds something.

I didn't respond. Let him sweat.

My phone rang. Douglas's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey," I answered.

"Did you see my text?" His voice was strained.

"I did."

"And?"

"I don't know, Douglas. Having someone else in the house while I'm recovering..."

"She's your best friend," he said, his tone sharpening. "And she's pregnant. We can't just abandon her."

"I'm not abandoning her. I'm just not sure…"

"Emma." His voice turned cold. "Sometimes I wonder if you even have a heart. Rachael has been there for you through everything. Every single miscarriage, every breakdown. And now when she needs help, you're going to turn your back on her?"

This was his specialty, twisting everything until I was the villain.

"That's not fair," I said quietly.

"Isn't it? Think about what she's done for you. For us. And you can't even offer her a place to stay for a few weeks?"

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to stay calm. "Fine. She can stay."

"Thank you," he said, his voice immediately warming. "I knew you'd do the right thing. I'm proud of you, baby."

I wanted to scream. Instead, I said, "I need to go. I'm not feeling well."

"Okay. I'll be home late tonight. Client dinner."

Another lie. But I played along. "Have fun."

After hanging up, I moved to the bedroom and began packing a small suitcase. Not everything, just enough to not raise suspicions. I wasn't ready to leave yet, but I needed to be prepared.

In the bathroom, I stared at my reflection. The woman looking back at me seemed different somehow, harder, colder, more determined. I touched my belly, thinking of the two precious lives I carried.

"We're going to be okay," I whispered to them. "Mommy promises."

I heard the front door open and close downstairs. Douglas was home early. I quickly zipped the suitcase and slid it under the bed before heading downstairs.

"Hey," he said, smiling that perfect smile that had once made my heart race. Now it only made my skin crawl. "How was your day with Rachael?"

"You already asked me that. Via text."

He blinked, caught off guard. "Oh. Right. I forgot."

"Are you okay?" I asked, feigning concern. "You seem distracted."

"Just work stuff," he said, loosening his tie. "Long day."

"I thought you had a client dinner?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I do. Later. I just came home to change."

Another lie, poorly executed. He was slipping. Getting careless.

"About Rachael," I said, watching his face carefully. "When is she moving in?"

"Tomorrow, if that's okay. I already told her yes."

"You told her before asking me?"

"I knew you'd agree once you thought about it," he said, his voice hardening. "It's the right thing to do."

"And if I don't agree?"

Douglas stared at me, his eyes cold in a way that once would have shocked me. Now it only confirmed what I already knew. This man was a stranger.

"Rachael is staying with us," he said with a note of finality that scared me. "And that's the end of this discussion."

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