The Lie He Fed Me

Vincent came home early for once, at seven. Usually, he'd claim he was tied up at the casinos or the docks, or wining and dining some politician—now I knew those were just excuses.

"Elena? You're home," he said, shrugging off his suit jacket. His voice had a gentleness I hadn't heard in a long time. "How was your day?"

I didn't even look up from the sofa.

"Elena?" He walked over, about to sit beside me. "You don't look so good. Are you feeling sick?"

He reached out to touch my forehead. I flinched away.

"Don't touch me."

Vincent paused, then chuckled. "What's wrong? Who pissed you off?"

I finally looked at him. The face I'd once adored now looked like a stranger's.

"Did you see the group chat?"

His expression froze for a fraction of a second before returning to normal. "Oh. That. Yeah, I saw it."

That's it? I saw it?

"That's it?" I stood up, my body shaking. "Sophia is pregnant with your child, and all you have to say is 'I saw it'?"

Vincent loosened his tie, a familiar gesture that now made my stomach turn. "Elena, we were clear when we got married. This was for our families. What are you complaining about?"

"Complaining?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Vincent, you got another woman pregnant!"

"I need an heir, Elena," he said, his tone terrifyingly calm, like he was talking about the weather. "The Romano family needs an heir."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

"An heir?" I stalked to the bar, grabbed a crystal glass, and threw it at him. "You want an heir?"

It shattered at his feet.

I stormed into the bedroom, grabbed the reports from that afternoon, and threw them at his chest.

"You know what this is? Birth control! The 'folic acid' you've been giving me is birth control!" My voice cracked, raw with fury. "And this—this is my medical report. You fed me poison for three years, Vincent! Three years! And now my doctor says I might never be able to have kids."

Vincent picked up the papers, his face turning to stone.

"And now you tell me you want an heir?" Tears streamed down my face. "You stopped me from getting pregnant while you knocked up someone else. For three years, Vincent, I thought it was my fault. I went to doctors. I cried and asked you if I wasn't good enough…"

"Elena, I…"

"You what?" I snarled. "Did you think I wouldn't find out? Even your friends knew Sophia was pregnant. Only me, your wife, was kept in the dark. Was it funny? Did you all think I was a complete idiot?"

Vincent was silent for a long moment. Finally, he just picked up the reports from the floor. "Elena, you're too emotional right now. We'll talk when you've calmed down."

Talk.

In five years, every time we disagreed, that was his line.

Like I wasn't his wife. Just another business deal to be managed.

The door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the living room, surrounded by the shattered glass that looked just like my heart.

I collapsed onto the floor, the tears finally spent. Five years of marriage had been nothing but a scam. And I was the biggest fool of all.

I wiped my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed a number.

"Thompson & Associates, good evening."

"This is Elena Romano. I need you to draw up divorce papers. As soon as possible."