Love and hate intertwined

Silas wouldn't physically cheat on me.

I knew him. He was shackled by heavy, archaic chains of morality and duty. And yet, Serena's presence ignited a massive, suffocating panic within me.

I doubled down on playing the role of the perfect wife. I wanted to see who would break first under the suffocating weight of this silent war—him or me.

When he returned to the penthouse that evening, he handed me a velvet box. Inside was a stunning pear-shaped pink diamond pendant on a platinum chain. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and the price tag was undoubtedly astronomical.

It was beautiful. But I hated it.

Unless I was accompanying Silas to a high-profile charity gala, I rarely wore flashy jewelry.

Silas wasn't the type to offer emotional apologies. I knew exactly what the necklace meant: it was his silent compensation for letting Serena eat the meal I had painstakingly prepared.

I smiled, my eyes crinkling at the corners, and accepted it graciously. I saw the tension bleed out of Silas.

I couldn't tell if he was relieved that I hadn't thrown a hysterical fit, or relieved that I wasn't mad at his precious Serena.

Without a second glance, I tossed the velvet box into my nightstand drawer and climbed into bed.

The minutes ticked by. I stared at the ceiling until Silas finally entered the master bedroom. The mattress dipped under his weight, and a familiar scent washed over me.

He reached out in the dark, his strong arm pulling me back against his chest, holding me tightly.

The warmth of another human body seeped through my silk pajamas. I closed my eyes and forced myself to slow my breathing, feigning the deep, rhythmic breaths of sleep.

I waited until his breathing leveled out before opening my eyes.

The pain in my upper abdomen flared again, a sharp cramp radiating down my back. Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting mottled shadows on the wooden floor. I stared at that pale moonlight for a long time until the spacious apartment was dead silent.

It was only then, lying in the arms of the man I loved, that the horrifying reality truly set in.

I was dying.