Auctioned by Unfaithful Husband

The hospital room had become my second home in the weeks since Ana's accident. I'd watch from the doorway as Marcellus held vigil at her bedside, his fingers constantly brushing her hair back from her forehead with a tenderness that made my heart crack a little more each day. My blood flowed through her veins now, but it hadn't earned me so much as a glance of gratitude from either of them.

When Ana finally opened her eyes, Marcellus wept openly. I stood in the shadows of the hospital room, invisible as always.

"You're coming home with us," he told her, his voice thick with emotion. "You need proper care, and I want you where I can make sure you're getting the best of everything."

I said nothing. What could I say? The decision had been made without me, as so many were these days.

* * *

"This sitting room would be perfect for my recovery," Ana said, her voice soft but determined as she surveyed the space adjoining our master bedroom. My space. Where my easel stood by the window, where I sketched jewelry designs in the morning light.

Marcellus nodded immediately. "Of course. We'll have it ready for you by tonight."

"But that's where I work," I said, the words barely audible even to myself.

Ana's eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling perfectly. "I just... the sunlight here would help me heal. And being close to both of you would make me feel safe. But if Serenity doesn't want me here..."

"Nonsense," Marcellus said firmly. "Serenity understands that your recovery comes first right now."

I watched silently as my sketches were packed away, my art supplies boxed up, my books removed from shelves. By nightfall, it was as if I had never existed in that space. Ana's photographs appeared on the walls—artfully arranged black and white portraits of herself. Her cashmere throws draped over my reading chair. Her collection of crystal figurines glittered on the shelves where my design books had been.

The next morning, I found my toiletries moved from the master bathroom. When I questioned Marcellus, his expression hardened.

"Ana mentioned that seeing your things is difficult for her. It reminds her she's in someone else's space, and the doctor says we need to minimize stress during her recovery."

"So where am I supposed to—"

"I've had the blue room at the end of the hall prepared for you. Just temporarily," he added, though his tone suggested otherwise. "Ana needs to be close to assistance during the night, and your coming and going would disturb her rest."

The blue room. The smallest guest room, tucked away where visitors wouldn't see it. As far from the master suite as possible without putting me in the servants' quarters.

* * *

"I'm so sorry!" Ana's voice rose above the sudden silence at the dinner table. Red wine spread across the white tablecloth, seeping into the stack of contracts Marcellus had been discussing with his business partners.

All eyes turned to me, standing behind Ana's chair where I'd been passing the bread basket.

"Serenity bumped into me," Ana said, her voice quavering. "I didn't mean to—"

"I didn't touch her," I said, but my protest sounded weak even to my own ears.

Ana's eyes filled with tears. "Ever since I came here, she's been so cold to me. So hostile. I understand she resents me, but I never thought she'd deliberately—"

"That's enough!" Marcellus stood abruptly, his napkin falling to the floor. "Serenity, apologize to Ana and our guests immediately."

I stared at him in disbelief. "I didn't—"

"Now." His voice cut like a blade.

The silence around the table was excruciating. Eight of Marcellus's most important business associates watched as I swallowed my dignity.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Clean this up," Marcellus ordered, not looking at me. "And then perhaps you should retire for the evening."

On my knees beside the table, sopping up wine with trembling hands, I caught Ana's reflection in the silver serving tray. She was smiling.