Husband’s Childhood Sweetheart Humiliated Me, He Begged Me Back

"Where's Garrett?"

I pretended not to see the robe strap she'd deliberately let slip off her shoulder.

Scarlett pouted, then picked up my face towel and casually used it to wipe her feet, moving around the place like she owned it.

"He's in the study, on the phone with his dad. You look tired, Vivian -- give me the baby. I can help you take care of her from now on."

I stepped aside, avoiding her outstretched hand. "That won't be necessary."

Garrett came out of the study just in time to see me pull away from her. His expression darkened.

"What did the doctor say?"

I laid Sophie on the couch and checked her tiny hands and feet.

"She's stressed. Some kind of acute stress response. They said to keep an eye on her."

Garrett visibly relaxed.

"See? I told you she'd be fine. You had to go make a whole production out of it--"

I ignored him. I looked around the room. "Where's Mrs. Bennet?"

She is the professional nanny I hired to look after Sophie.

Garrett hesitated. "I let her go."

"Scarlett loves kids. I figured she could help out around here -- someone we know, instead of paying a stranger."

Scarlett tightened the robe around herself and slinked over, hips swaying.

"Don't worry, Vivian. I'm great with kids -- always have been. You two just focus on work and leave everything to me."

Seeing my stony expression, she let out a little laugh.

"Oh right, right -- today was my fault. Let me make it up to you!"

She grabbed the half-empty bottle of red wine off the coffee table and made as if to down it in one go.

Garrett snatched it away. "Come on, can you even handle that?"

His tone was annoyed, but the tenderness on his face was unmistakable.

Watching their little act, I picked up my daughter and headed for the door.

It took Garrett a moment to react before he stepped in front of me.

"Where are you going in the middle of the night? Can you stop being so dramatic?"

"Dramatic?" I laughed.

"Your 'buddy' is wearing my nightgown, using my towel, and about to get drunk before watching my daughter."

"Garrett, who exactly is being dramatic here?"

Scarlett flipped her hair. "Wow, jealous much? I was just being practical. Garrett -- your wife clearly can't stand me. Maybe I should just go."

"Enough!" Garrett raked his fingers through his hair.

"Vivian, she's already been called out, she said sorry -- can we just drop it?"

He glanced at the baby in my arms, his voice softening. "Don't put Sophie through this."

I said nothing. Sophie did still have a low-grade fever. The night air was cold. I couldn't do that to her.

"I want to see Mrs. Bennet here tomorrow morning!"

"Fine, fine! You got it."

I took Sophie to the guest room. Mrs. Bennet's baby supplies were still scattered around.

Garrett and Scarlett stayed up in the living room, talking and laughing until well past midnight. Even when Sophie woke up crying, he never once came to check.

At dawn, I dragged myself out of bed for the fourth time to take Sophie's temperature.

That's when I heard giggling coming from the master bedroom. "Oh man, look how dumb you looked back then!"

They were huddled together, heads touching, a lipstick in hand, drawing all over something.

That something was the pregnancy scrapbook I'd made by hand.

Garrett had once pointed to the first page, whispering in my ear: "When the baby grows up, we'll tell her the love story of Mommy and Daddy."

Now, on that same page, my face in our wedding photo had been smeared with red lipstick. Someone had drawn two big X's over my eyes.

And on Sophie's first ultrasound picture, scrawled in red: "Waste of space."

"What are you two doing?"

Scarlett jumped. The lipstick dragged a jagged red line across the photo.

"Oh! You're up? I thought the scrapbook was cute, so I... got creative."

She saw my face and shrugged. "Sorry? Here, let me wipe it off."

She rubbed at it with her palm, smearing the page into a mess of bright crimson.

"Give it back!"

I reached for it. She jerked away, and the sharp edge of the paper sliced a thin cut across her cheek.

"Vivian, what the hell?!"

Garrett lunged forward and shoved me hard.

I stumbled backward. My back slammed into the vanity. The mirror shattered, glass raining down around me.

He didn't look at me. He bent over Scarlett, cradling her, his voice tight with worry.

"Scarlett, are you okay?"

Scarlett touched her cheek and winced. "Damn, Vivian, you've got some grip..."

Garrett scooped her up in his arms. She squealed, then nestled her face into the curve of his neck.

"I'm taking Scarlett to the hospital. Vivian -- you went way too far this time."

After he left, I finally felt the wetness in my palm. I looked down. A long, deep gash ran across my hand between thumb and forefinger, the flesh gaping open.

Blood ran freely. I felt nothing. Just a dull, hollow ache.

I called Mrs. Bennet and told her I needed to go to the hospital, asking her to please get there within five minutes.