After the Miscarriage, I Stopped Being a Stepmother to Don's Heir

I looked down and gave a thin smile. "I don't think you were all that happy about me becoming a mother, were you?"

Leon's brow tightened and his expression went colder than before. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I held his gaze.

Leon looked away, impatient.

"Scarlett. You know I hate being misunderstood. And I hate explaining myself even more."

I kept staring at him, stubborn as a tree in a storm. He glanced down at my stomach. "I've been busy this week. I won't be able to come by. Don't worry, I'll send someone to look after you."

After he left, the room felt hollow.

My stomach felt hollow too.

I turned and stared out the window. A life, small as a bird, had flown away without a trace. Not even a shadow left behind.

The next day, Leon didn't come and there was no call either.

I went to the follow-up appointment alone.

On my way out, I rounded a corner and nearly walked into Leon and his sister Iris. Their voices carried before I could see them.

"Leon, I know you married Scarlett because she was good to Rosalie."

"There are women all over New York who'd kill to be good to that girl, but you chose Scarlett. You must love her. Can you please just stop shutting her out? Talk to her. Work it out."

Leon sounded impatient.

"I needed someone to take care of Rosalie. Any woman would've done. Scarlett just happened to be prettier than the others."

"You're here to help look after her. Stay out of my marriage."

My knees gave. I grabbed the wall to keep from falling.

I'd always told myself Leon showed love differently, quietly and through actions. That the coldness was just who he was. I'd believed he loved me.

I was just the prettier option. That was all.

A passing nurse touched my shoulder. "Do you need help getting back to your room?"

Leon and Iris turned at the sound.

Leon glanced at me, then tilted his chin toward Iris without a word. "She's yours." He walked away.

Iris took my arm, searching my face, clearly worried.

"Scarlett, don't take it to heart. You know how he is."

"Giselle's been coming around all week, telling everyone you faked the fall to frame Rosalie. He's in a bad mood. He doesn't say it, but he does love you. I know he does."

She squeezed my arm. "Three months ago, for your anniversary, he flew back from Mexico just to be there. He dropped everything."

I stopped.

I'd been certain he wouldn't make it back. But he'd shown up at the door, dust still on his coat, and said the job was done and he'd suddenly wanted to see me. Maybe because the trouble had dragged on for so long that solving it left him wired, or whatever the reason, that night he'd been different. Reckless. He refused to take any precautions and indulged himself for once.

I still remembered clearly the moment he nipped my earlobe and breathed my name in a trembling voice.

I'd thought the baby came from that, from something real, something that night made real.

Now I wished he'd never come home at all.