Husband, Why Did You Send Me to Prison for Her?

As if afraid I wouldn't believe him, he led me upstairs and opened the guest room door. "See? She's staying here."

I glanced inside and nodded.

That was all.

No anger. No jealousy. No reaction.

For some reason, my indifference seemed to unsettle him more than any outburst could have.

His brows furrowed before he suddenly pulled me into his arms. "Olivia, I missed you," he said roughly. "You refused every visit while you were in prison. I couldn't sleep. Every night I dreamed you hated me. Every night I thought you'd never forgive me."

A bitter smile touched my lips.

Dreams?

Reality had kept me awake for eight years.

I pushed against his chest and stepped back. "I don't want to talk about the past."

Alaric froze before slowly letting go. "Okay," he said quietly. "It's over. Everything is in the past now."

I almost laughed.

Over?

Really?

Before I could ask about my grandfather, the front door opened and Margaret walked in carrying several shopping bags.

The moment she saw Alaric holding my wrist, something ugly flashed across her face before disappearing behind a bright smile.

"Olivia, we should go shopping," Margaret said cheerfully as she linked her arm through mine. "You just got out of the hospital. We need to buy you new clothes."

Alaric suddenly looked embarrassed. "Your old clothes were stored too long," he admitted. "Marga thought they wouldn't fit anymore, so she threw them out."

My eyes slowly lifted.

Margaret watched me carefully, clearly waiting for a reaction. Instead, I simply pulled my arm away and said, "Okay."

The disappointment on her face was almost amusing.

Before leaving, I told them I needed the restroom. Instead, I quietly slipped upstairs. First into Alaric's study, then into Margaret's room. My movements were careful and silent. By the time I came downstairs, a tiny pinhole camera had already been hidden inside each room.

...

The mall was crowded that afternoon.

People moved in every direction, filling the halls with noise and movement.

Alaric stayed beside us until Margaret suddenly pointed toward a drink shop across the hall.

"Alaric, could you buy me that drink?" she asked sweetly.

Without suspicion, he nodded and walked away.

The moment he disappeared from sight, Margaret's smile vanished.

"So you're still alive," she said coldly.

I looked at her calmly.

Margaret laughed. "You're really lucky, Olivia. After everything that happened, you still survived."

She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "But that's okay. Today I'll show you exactly who Alaric chooses between us."

I didn't respond.

There was no point.

I already knew the answer.

Nothing had changed.

Margaret suddenly raised her hand and slammed it against the emergency alarm. Instantly, sirens exploded throughout the mall.

People screamed and panic spread everywhere.

"What happened?"

"Run!"

"Move!"

The crowd surged forward in a wave.

Within seconds, Margaret and I were separated.

Bodies shoved between us as chaos erupted throughout the building.

Then I saw Alaric, He was running toward us.

His face was filled with alarm.

"Marga!" he shouted.

Margaret immediately stumbled to the floor and burst into tears. "Alaric, I'm scared. Please don't leave me."

Without hesitation, he ran straight to her.

For a brief second, his eyes swept through the crowd.

Searching but Margaret grabbed his arm tightly.

"Please don't leave me," she cried again. "I'm terrified."

Alaric hesitated for only a moment before bending down and lifting her into his arms.

Then he carried her away.

To safety.

I watched his back disappear into the crowd.

I could have called his name.

I could have told him I was here.

But why?

Margaret wanted me to see who he would choose.

How ridiculous.

There had never been any need for a test.

Alaric had already made that choice years ago.

Someone slammed into me from behind.

Pain exploded through my body as I crashed onto the floor.

A foot landed on my shoulder.

Another stepped on my hand.

Nobody stopped.

Nobody cared.

Everyone was trying to save themselves.

My vision blurred as my fingers twisted painfully beneath someone's shoe. The air felt too thin. My stomach cramped violently. My head, shoulders, chest, everything hurt so badly that I could no longer tell where the pain was coming from.

The world spun around me.

Voices became distant.

Fainter.

And fainter.

Until everything went black.

Then I lost consciousness.

…

When I woke up again, I was back in a hospital room.

The first thing I saw was Alaric standing by the window with a cigarette between his fingers. Smoke drifted through the room as he stared into the darkness outside. For a moment, he looked exhausted.

The smell reached me and my chest immediately tightened.

"Cough... cough..."

I started coughing violently.

Alaric spun around so quickly he nearly knocked over the chair beside him. "Shit," he cursed as he crushed the cigarette out with his bare fingers and hurried over.

The smell still lingered in the air.

For some reason, he looked nervous. Almost guilty.

"Olivia, at the mall I was going to come back for you," he said roughly. "Marga suddenly got a headache, and you know how fragile her health is. I was worried something would happen to her, so I got her out first. After that, I planned to come back and find you."

I looked at him quietly.

Alaric ran a hand through his hair and continued, "By the time I came back, you were already gone."

Silence settled between us.

I turned my gaze away. "I understand."

Alaric frowned. "You understand?"

"Yes," I replied calmly. "I understand."

How could I not?

After all these years, I understood better than anyone. Whenever it came down to Margaret or me, he would always choose Margaret. The explanation wasn't for me. It was for himself.

Alaric stared at me. Something dark flickered across his face, and my calm acceptance seemed to make him even more uncomfortable.

After a long silence, I finally asked, "I want to see Grandpa."

His expression softened slightly. "Your grandfather had some heart problems a few days ago, but don't panic," he said as he crouched beside the bed. "I've already arranged the best cardiologist available. It's not serious, and the doctors are monitoring him closely."

My body stiffened immediately.

Alaric squeezed my hand gently. "Focus on recovering first."

I looked at him and asked, "When can I see him?"

After a brief hesitation, he answered, "As soon as you're strong enough to stand properly, I'll take you there myself."

My ribs still hurt whenever I breathed, but hearing Grandpa wasn't well made my chest tighten.

For the next day, Alaric barely left my side. He stayed in the room, reviewed documents, took calls outside, and brought me meals. For brief moments, it almost felt like the old days.

Almost.

The following evening, his phone rang.

The moment he answered, Margaret's sobbing voice filled the room.

"Alaric, I know you care about Olivia and I know she's your wife, but we loved each other first. Why is she doing this to me? What did I do to deserve this? Is she trying to force me to die?"

My fingers slowly tightened around the blanket.

"Marga, calm down and talk to me," Alaric said immediately, his voice softening. "What happened?"

Before she could answer, the call disconnected.

Alaric's expression changed instantly. Without a second thought, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

I didn't know what had happened.

But something inside me sank.

Nothing good ever came from Margaret crying.

As soon as Alaric left, I picked up my phone and called Violet.

She answered almost immediately. "Olivia?"

"Violet, I need another favor."