Locked on the Balcony While He Cheats

On Christmas Eve, I giddily wait for my husband, Hunter Gibson, to come home while nursing my eight-month pregnancy.

Unexpectedly, Hunter bursts through the front door with his childhood friend, Winter Jones, in his arms.

I attempt to help him out, only to get shoved to the floor instead. My belly bumps into a corner of the coffee table, causing pain to shoot up my nerves. Cold sweat soon beads on my forehead, and yet Hunter doesn't even spare me another glance.

"Get out of my way! Someone drugged Winnie's drink at the bar! If I don't purge the poison out of her, she'll die!"

As I shield my belly, I dig out my phone. "I'll call an ambulance for her—"

But Hunter snatches my phone away before hurling it at the floor, breaking it into splinters. Then, he grabs me by the neck angrily.

"Are you trying to ruin Winnie's reputation? If word gets out, how is she going to live with her head hung high?"

In order to prevent me from "ruining his plan", Hunter decides to trap me on the balcony while disregarding my pleas and the fact that I'm only wearing thin pajamas.

"You should take some time to cool off! Once you've finally learned your lesson, you're only permitted entry!"

I can only slam my palms onto the glass door desperately with tears running down my face. There, I'm forced to watch as Hunter and Winter go at it like desperate rabbits on the carpet in the living room, with the Christmas songs serving as their ambiance.

A heavy snowfall has occurred that night.

At the crack of dawn the next morning, Hunter finally remembers that I exist. He calls my number, yet my phone was turned off.

Furious, Hunter yells, "Where the hell did you go? Winnie's stomach is in discomfort! Get your ass back here right now and cook her some soup!"

What he doesn't know is that I'm right outside the balcony door. The thing is, dead people are incapable of answering phone calls, not to mention Hunter has already broken my phone, to begin with.

Hunter Gibson clenched his phone, gloomy. Staring at the balcony beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, he let out a cold laugh.

"How much longer are you going to keep this act up, Stella? Wasn't a whole night of playing the victim enough for you?"

He strode toward the balcony door. The moment his hand closed around the handle, my soul, floating in midair, seemed to tremble ever-so-slightly.

All he had to do was push the door open. Then he would see me curled up in the corner, frozen solid like an ice sculpture.

But he didn't. Instead, his gaze slipped through the gap in the half-drawn curtains and landed on the escape rope hanging from the railing.

I had tied it there last night when I was trying to save myself, but my hands and feet had been so numb from the cold that I hadn't had the strength to climb it.

Hunter's eyes followed the rope downward until he spotted the footprints the delivery driver had left below. A mocking smile spread across his face.

"Well done, Stella. How impressive of you to climb down from the second floor on a rope while pregnant. You probably faked that stomach pain yesterday, too."

I was shaking with rage. I rushed at him and swung a slap across his face, but my hand passed right through him.

Just then, Bella, our golden retriever who had been lying against the balcony door, whined mournfully. She scratched frantically at the glass, her claws screeching against the surface.

She could smell me. She knew I was outside.

The noise grated on Hunter's nerves. Irritated, he raised his foot and kicked Bella hard in the stomach. "Stop barking, you stupid dog!"

The kick sent Bella tumbling across the floor. Even so, she whimpered and struggled to crawl back toward the balcony.

"Don't you hurt her, Hunter!" I screamed hysterically, throwing myself toward Bella as if I could shield her. "How can you do this to her?"

A memory slammed into me. Three years ago, after my miscarriage, I fell into a deep depression and a series of sleepless nights. All I could think about was ending my life.

One day, Hunter came home carrying a fluffy golden retriever puppy and placed it in my arms. Kneeling beside my bed, he gently wiped away my tears.

"Stella, this is Bella. From now on, you two will protect each other, okay? When I'm not home, she'll guard you for me. If anyone gives you trouble, she can bite them for you."

Back then, love and sympathetic concern had filled Hunter's eyes. Now, he had kicked my "guardian" away without a second thought, disgusted to the core.

Ignoring Bella, he turned and headed for the kitchen to get some honey water. His hand searched the usual spot and came up empty. Discomfort crossed his face.

At that moment, Winter Jones walked out of the guest room wearing my silk nightgown. The hickeys from last night were still fresh on her neck. "Hunter, what's wrong?"

Hunter wrapped an arm around her waist and snorted. "Nothing. Just me and some bad habits."

She glanced toward the kitchen and immediately put on her sweet, innocent act. "Since Stella isn't here, I'll get you some water. Speaking of her, she's pretty impressive, isn't she? That's a high floor to climb down from.

"And I was worried she'd freeze outside last night. Looks like I was worrying for nothing, after all."

Floating in the air, I stared at Winter's fake, smiling face. Oh, Winter…

For the past three months, she had been slowly picking apart my marriage. All it took was one tearful "Hunter, you're all I have left", a frown, or a complaint about being in pain, and Hunter would decide that I was the petulant one.

"Winnie sees me as family. How can your mind be so twisted? You're acting like a shrew, Stella."

I had heard those words so many times over the past three months that they were practically burned into my ears.

From then on, he saw me as nothing more than a crazy woman willing to do anything for attention, even when I was eight months pregnant with his child.

Hunter took the glass of water from Winter and drained it in one gulp. Then, he pulled out his phone and called the property management.

"Change the access code to my front door and delete the old fingerprint access, too," he ordered, glancing toward the balcony with vindictive satisfaction.

"Since she's decided to leave, I won't let her back in so easily. Throwing a childish tantrum, huh? Fine. Let's see who can hold out until the end."

I watched Hunter smiling affectionately at Winter, his arm around her.

How I wished I had left, Hunter. Alas, no dead woman could walk away as her heart desired.