Kneel Down, Husband, Now I’ll Destroy Your Legacy

I stayed in the shadows, watching Lillian in her silky nightgown throw herself into Christopher’s arms. “Chris, you’ve been working so hard,” she whispered, looking up at him, worried in her voice. “Every night you have to feed her the medicine, and then you come over to keep me company…”

He held her waist and kissed her forehead, “This is what you deserve,” he said softly.

“I’m still scared,” Lillian said, trembling, “what if she finds out?”

“No,” he said firmly, voice low. “The medicine is specially made. It keeps her memories stable and makes her sleep like she won’t ever wake up.”

Lillian smiled, tiptoeing to kiss him. “Chris, you’re amazing.”

I froze. My blood felt like ice. I watched them kiss, watched him stroke her hair, watched them walk into the villa together. The milk… every night… drugged. Him leaving every night… and keeping Lillian close next door… my “happy moments” all a lie.

I bit my lip until it bled and went back to my bedroom. I lay there staring at the ceiling. Sleep didn’t come. When Christopher returned, it was already dawn. He tiptoed in, pulled me into his arms, kissed my forehead, and said, “Melissa, let’s get ready and go to the Botanical Garden greenhouse.”

I closed my eyes, mumbling a soft “Mmm,” forcing back the tears. I didn’t believe him anymore. I wouldn’t ever.

...

The greenhouse was quiet. I stayed near the edge, watching him walk over with the baby girl in his arms. “We got a new caretaker today,” he said casually, but I could feel his eyes on me. “The previous one is on leave.”

I nodded but said nothing.

The caretaker’s sunglasses covered most of her face, but I saw those dimples, that slender figure. Lillian. She lowered her eyes, a cold, silent smile on her lips, pretending she knew nothing.

“The baby’s been fussy,” Christopher said, handing her the girl. “Melissa, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“You handle it,” I said, looking away.

I stepped toward the edge of the greenhouse to rest, and then a heavy metal plant rack wobbled toward me. I stumbled, fell into the pond with a splash. Water rushed into my mouth and nose, panic clawing at me. I flailed, screaming silently, trying to keep afloat.

“Melissa!” Christopher shouted, rushing forward, but Lillian shook him. “Chris, take the child! I’ll save her!”

She dove in, grabbing my arm, pulling me up, but the metal rack hit me partly. Pain shot through me. I scratched her arm in panic, leaving bloody marks, but she didn’t let go. She dragged me until I could barely breathe, finally pushing me to the edge.

I collapsed, coughing, gasping. Christopher arrived, frowning when he saw Lillian’s arm. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, voice choked. “It’s okay… Melissa was scared… I just… I’m worried it might leave a mark…”

“I didn’t have much time anyway… I just wanted to get out looking my best,” she murmured.

Christopher’s eyes darkened at me, then he squatted beside her, pulling her into his chest. “Don’t say stuff like that. No scar. I’ll take you to the hospital later and use the best medicine.”

She leaned against him, sobbing softly. I lay there, barely conscious, stomach twisting, hearing it all. I coughed violently.

He finally noticed me. “Melissa, are you okay? Anything hurt?”

“…It’s nothing,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

“No, we’re going to the hospital. Let’s check you out.” He didn’t wait, scooped me up in his arms, and told Lillian to take the baby. She nodded silently and followed.

I leaned against him, hearing his heartbeat. He’d just kissed her, held her, protected her… and now he held me like nothing happened, playing the devoted husband.

“Melissa,” he said softly as we walked, “you feel cold? Are you tired? Say something. Talk to me.”

I swallowed hard, the taste of blood still in my mouth. “I… I’m fine,” I muttered.

He pressed my head to his chest. “You’re always saying that. I can’t just leave you like this. Come on, we’ll get you warm at the hospital.”

I closed my eyes tighter, fighting back tears. Every word he said felt fake. Every touch. Every act. Disgust boiled in me. And I hated that I still felt my body respond to it.

I could hear Lillian behind us, humming softly to the baby, pretending everything was normal. My stomach twisted.

…

I woke up to the blinding white ceiling of the hospital and the sharp, sterile smell of disinfectant filling my nose. My head felt heavy and my body even heavier. I slowly turned my eyes, and the ward was empty. Just me. The faint chatter of nurses drifted in from the doorway.

“Miss Davenport only got her hand scratched, and yet Mr. Bellingham freaked out so much he called all the doctors and demanded the best medicine to make sure there’s no scar,” one of them said.

Another chimed in, sneering, “And here she is, drowning in the pond and unconscious, and she still only gets two intern nurses looking after her. What a joke. Some contrast, huh?”

My fingers twitched at my sides and my throat tightened. I remembered the night I had a fever of 39 degrees. Christopher stayed by my side all night, eyes barely closing, his private doctor at my bedside. And now I nearly drowned, and no one gave a damn.

The door opened, and two intern nurses strolled in. One glanced at me and rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re awake? Not bad, tough girl.”

I stayed quiet, sitting up stiffly.

The other leaned closer, her voice dripping with malice. “What are you pretending for? You know you’re the mistress, right? Miss Davenport already has a child with President Bellingham, and you’re still clinging to her like some pathetic little shadow. Jumping in the pond? Threatening to drown yourself? Aren’t you disgusting?”

I looked up at them, my voice raw and hoarse. “Who told you I was the other woman?”

The first nurse laughed, “Do I need anyone to tell me? Miss Davenport is my friend, and everyone knows she and Mr. Bellingham are madly in love. They even have a child together. And then there’s you, sticking your nose in, trying to play hero. What else is that but being a homewrecker? Pathetic.”

The second nurse leaned on the bed rail, tilting her head, “Do you even get it? Mr. Bellingham was panicked over Miss Davenport. He called her ‘wife’ like a hundred times, insisted the doctors use the best medicine, made sure nothing happened to her, not a scratch. And you? You almost drowned, and no one gives a damn. Not a single person.”

She smirked and added, “You really thought you could be something in his life? You thought you mattered? Go ahead, pretend all you want, but face it. You’re nothing. You’re invisible. And everyone around here sees it.”