I Walked Away From the Man I Never Married

I remembered sliding into the backseat of the taxi that night, the cold upholstery clinging to my drenched clothes like an unwanted second skin. I was too drained to even cry; all I wanted was to reach the hospital, have someone check my stomach, and maybe—just maybe—feel human again.

But halfway through the drive, the driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, a weird little smile playing on his lips. Before I could form a question, a sharp hiss broke through the silent car.

A harsh, chemical scent filled the air.

I coughed violently. “W-What are you—”

And the world snapped to black.

When consciousness finally oozed back in, my head felt like it was full of spinning concrete. My limbs were heavy and sluggish, my wrists tied painfully behind me, the skin bruised from the restraints. My legs were stiff. My spine rested against freezing cement.

Where… am I?

The place smelled of rusted metal and old motor oil. Dim, industrial light flickered from somewhere above. A warehouse. Abandoned. Hidden. A place designed for people no one planned to return.

Footsteps echoed, sending shivers up my arms.

“W-What… what’s going on?” I croaked. My voice sounded foreign to me, all cracked and dry.

One of the men approached, his face covered with a half-mask. “Shut it. Since you’re awake, call Rowan.”

My throat closed. “Why? Why do you need me to call him?”

“Your precious husband owes us a pretty sum,” he growled. “He made deals, took money, made promises—and screwed us over. Now he pays.”

“I… I have nothing to do with this,” I whispered, trembling hard. “I didn’t even know—”

“Oh yeah?” the man snapped, getting in my face. “Then explain why he sent his wife here instead of meeting us himself.”

Wife.

The word hit me like a slap.

I wasn’t even legally his wife.

“I’m not—” I stopped. They wouldn’t believe it even if I shouted it into their ears.

The other man scoffed. “We trusted him once. Got the wrong girl three years ago. That’s why you lived. This time? No mistakes. You understand?”

My stomach churned.

So Seraphine’s fall… the rooftop… the attack—they weren’t coincidences.

It all traced back to Rowan.

Everything.

“Make the call!” they barked.

With shaking fingers, I dialed his number.

He picked up almost immediately.

“Rowan,” I gasped, tears already gathering. “I’ve been taken—I’m tied up—please, please help me!”

He groaned. Actually groaned.

“Oh God. Kiera, not this nonsense again.”

My pulse stopped. “W-What? What are you talking about?”

“I am literally taking care of Seraphine right now,” he snapped. “Don’t start with your drama. Come home. She hasn’t eaten and you’re supposed to be helping. Stop playing these stupid games.”

Then he hung up.

Just like that.

I stared at the phone, my heart splitting open.

The men heard the whole thing. One clicked his tongue. “Useless,” he spat, before slapping me so hard my head whipped to the side. “So it was really Seraphine they were after. So what are you then?”

My lip tore; I tasted blood.

What was I?

A substitute.

A shadow.

A nobody.

But they didn’t release me. They kept beating me, kept hurting me. I could hear them muttering about killing me as a message to Rowan. Every scream I let out seemed to dissolve into the walls. Nobody came.

The next thing I knew, I was being dumped in front of a hospital like discarded garbage.

When I finally woke again, I was lying in a hospital bed. The antiseptic smell was sharp, and the lights overhead burned my eyes.

“Please stay still,” a nurse said softly as she adjusted my blanket. “You lost a significant amount of blood.”

I blinked slowly. “What… what happened to me?”

“You were found unconscious, badly bruised,” she explained hesitantly. “Someone called for help, but the caller didn’t stay or give details. However…” She paused.

My stomach tightened. “However what?”

Her expression softened with pity. “I’m sorry… but you lost the baby.”

“…What?”

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. The world felt hollow.

“You were around three months along,” she added quietly.

“I… I didn’t even know,” I whispered. “My cycle… it’s always irregular. I had no idea.”

Her eyes were warm with sympathy. “Would you like me to call someone for you?”

“My phone,” I murmured.

She handed it to me.

It still turned on.

Still no calls.

No texts.

Not even a missed message.

I tried calling Rowan anyway. Straight to voicemail.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, numb, until the lifelessness inside me became unbearable.

Eventually, weak and starving, I slipped out of bed and wandered the corridors wearing my hospital gown. I passed by the nurses’ area, then drifted into a quieter wing—

And then I heard a voice I hadn’t heard in years.

Seraphine.

“…I specifically told you to get rid of her. Why is she still alive?” she hissed.

My blood froze.

“I woke up,” she continued coldly. “So she should be dead by now. Why is she even breathing in this hospital?”

“She was rescued,” a man replied nervously. “Another group arrived unexpectedly. We had to escape.”

Saved?

Someone saved me?

But who?

“Do it properly next time,” Seraphine ordered, her tone sharp as a blade. “And do not let me see you again unless I call for you. And don’t you dare speak a word about this.”

Footsteps approached.

I backed away, hiding behind a corner as the man exited. My whole body shook.

And then—

“There you are!”

I turned.

Rowan stood there, smiling like a man greeting a friend at a café instead of his battered, bandaged wife.

“Perfect timing!” he said cheerfully. “Seraphine can’t wait to see you. She wants her usual milk tea from that shop you like. Could you grab it for her?”

I stared at him.

Could he really not see the bruises?

The bandages?

The IV mark on my arm?

“No,” I whispered.

His expression twisted. “What did you say?”

“I said I don’t want to.”

He stepped closer, frowning. “Are you seriously defying me right now? What’s gotten into you?”