No, Ex-Husband, You Already Lost Me

I wandered down the hallway, my feet heavy, the ghost of the champagne I hadn’t drunk leaving a sour taste in my mouth. I needed water.

I turned the corner toward the kitchen, but stopped dead.

They were there. In the dim light of the hallway sconces.

Lewis had Celina pinned against the wall. His hands were in her hair, his mouth devouring hers. It wasn’t the polite, staged kiss from the balcony. This was hungry. Familiar.

I made a noise—a sharp intake of breath.

Lewis pulled back instantly, his eyes wide. He looked at me, then at Celina, then back at me. For a second, he looked panicked. Then, the mask slipped back into place.

“Beatrice,” he breathed, smoothing his suit jacket. “I… I thought she was you.”

I stared at him. I was wearing a grey oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. Celina was still in her shimmering emerald gown.

“You thought she was me?” I repeated, my voice flat.

“It’s dark,” Lewis said quickly, stepping away from Celina. “And you’re identical. You know how hard it is for me to distinguish you two sometimes. The silhouette… it’s confusing.”

Celina smoothed her dress, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She didn’t look embarrassed. She looked victorious.

“I’m so sorry, Beatrice,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “I tried to push him away, but he was just so… passionate. He really misses you, you know.”

I looked at them. The lies were so thick I could choke on them.

“Yeah,” I said, turning my back on them. “It happens.”

I started to walk away. I just wanted to go to bed. I wanted to sleep until I could leave this hell.

“Wait,” Lewis snapped.

I stopped but didn’t turn around.

“That’s it?” he demanded. I could hear his footsteps coming closer. “You’re just going to walk away? ‘It happens’?”

I turned around slowly. “What do you want me to do, Lewis? Scream? Cry? Throw a vase?”

“I want you to care!” he shouted, his face twisting in anger. “You see your husband kissing another woman—even by mistake—and you have nothing to say? Do you even love me anymore?”

I looked at him, really looked at him. The man I had worshipped. The man I had lost a child with.

“I’m tired, Lewis,” I whispered. “I’m just so tired.”

His eyes narrowed. “Tired? Or guilty?”

“What?”

“Celina told me,” he sneered, gesturing to my sister. “She told me about your little disappearances. About how you likes cheating and all. Is that why you don’t care? Because you’re doing the same thing?”

My jaw dropped. “I am not cheating on you! I was in the hospital losing our baby!”

“Don’t use that as an excuse,” he spat. “You’ve been distant for months.”

“I know you guys are cheating on me,” I said, my voice rising, finally breaking through the numbness. “Stop gaslighting me! I see the way you look at her! I see the jewelry! I see the nursery!”

“You’re hysterical,” Lewis said dismissively.

“Beatrice, please,” Celina cooed, stepping forward and reaching for my arm. “You’re not well. You’re imagining things. Lewis loves you. I’m just here to help.”

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed.

I shoved her. It wasn’t a hard shove, just a desperate attempt to get her perfume, her fake sympathy, away from me.

But we were at the top of the landing.

Celina stumbled back, her heel catching on the carpet. She flailed, grabbing my wrist to steady herself.

“No!” I gasped.

She pulled me down with her.

The world spun. The ceiling, the floor, the stairs.

Thud. Crack. Thud.

Pain exploded in my shoulder, my head, my ribs. We tumbled down the long, curved staircase, a tangle of limbs and screams.

Then, darkness.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound was rhythmic. Annoying.

I opened my eyes. White ceiling. The smell of antiseptic.

I was in a hospital room. My head throbbed, and my arm was in a cast. I looked around.

The chair beside my bed was empty. No flowers. No Lewis.

I tried to sit up, groaning as my ribs protested. The door to my room was slightly ajar. I could hear voices coming from the hallway, or maybe the room next door.

“Is she okay?” It was Lewis’s voice. He sounded frantic. More frantic than I had ever heard him.

“She’s stable, Mr. Langford,” a doctor’s voice replied. “It was a nasty fall, but she’s resilient.”

“And the baby?” Lewis asked.

My heart stopped. The baby? I had already lost the baby. What was he talking about?

“The fetus is fine,” the doctor said. “Strong heartbeat. It’s a miracle, really, considering the trauma. But she needs absolute bed rest.”

I froze.

She.

I wasn’t pregnant.

I dragged myself out of bed, ignoring the screaming pain in my body. I stumbled to the door and peered through the crack.

In the room across the hall, the door was wide open.

Celina was lying in the bed, looking pale but beautiful, like a tragic heroine. Lewis was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her hand to his lips.

“Thank God,” Lewis whispered, burying his face in her palm. “I thought I lost you. I thought I lost our baby.”

“I’m okay, my love,” Celina whispered, stroking his hair. “We’re okay. Beatrice… she didn’t mean to hurt us. She’s just jealous.”

“She almost killed my heir,” Lewis growled, lifting his head. He looked at Celina with a fierce, protective love I had never seen directed at me. “I’m done with her, Celina. I’m done pretending. You will soon take your rightful place. Just wait, I will fix everything soon. Just have to handle my grandpa.”

He leaned in and kissed her. Softly. Reverently.

I stood there, clutching the doorframe, my hospital gown thin and cold against my skin.

There it was. The truth.

I quietly closed the door.

I walked back to my bed and sat down. The pain in my body was nothing compared to the clarity in my mind.

It was truly the end. There was nothing left for me in his life.