On our anniversary, I learned that I am his mistress

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

My mother’s ashes—her last remains—were scattered across the floor, clinging to the fragments of the shattered urn. My hands trembled violently as I crouched down, fingers hovering over the gray dust like touching it would break me even more.

Candice gasped, covering her mouth as if she truly cared. “Ma’am—I—I didn’t mean—”

Something snapped inside me. I stood so fast she stumbled backward.

“You—” My voice broke into something unrecognizable. “You destroyed her. My mother—MY MOTHER!”

I slapped her. The sound cracked through the room, sharp and vicious.

Candice staggered, eyes wide, hand flying to her cheek. “Ma’am—please—”

I slapped her again. Harder. “Do you know what you’ve done? Do you have any idea—”

She tried to back away, but I grabbed her arm, shaking. “Those ashes were all I had left of her!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” she cried, sobbing in a panic. “It slipped—I didn’t—”

“You don’t get to touch anything in this house! You don’t get to breathe near her memory!” Another slap landed before I could stop myself. “You will pay for this, Candice. You will—”

“What the hell is going on?!”

Jaxon’s voice tore through the room.

I turned, breathing hard, tears hot on my face. He stood in the doorway—eyes widening at the broken urn, the ashes, at Candice shaking with reddened cheeks.

“Ysobel,” he said slowly, dangerously, “did you just… hit her?”

“She destroyed my mother’s ashes!” I sobbed. “She broke the urn!”

Candice threw herself toward him. “I didn’t mean to! I was cleaning and it slipped. I’m sorry, Jax—she kept hitting me—I couldn’t stop her—”

His eyes darkened toward me. Not her.

"Ysobel, why would you hurt someone? Can you not just talk nicely?"

I stared at him. “She broke my mother’s ashes—she was cleaning something I told her not to touch—she—”

“Candice is important to me and you know that!! And you think you can just hit her just because of the urn? That’s just ashes and your mother is dead no matter what happens!”

I froze and then he realized what he just said. But before he could say another word, I already left.

The next morning, Jaxon acted like nothing happened.

He entered the dining room with a soft smile, sitting beside me as though he hadn’t slapped me bloody the night before.

“Good morning,” he murmured, brushing a hand through my hair. “About last night… let’s not dwell on it. We’re both stressed. I’m sorry and Candice will say sorry about it. I can just buy you a new urn.”

My body stiffened at his touch, but I didn’t move.

He poured juice for me. “Your birthday is approaching. I’m planning a little party. Something intimate. Just close people. I want this year to be special.”

I forced a tight smile. “Whatever you think is best.”

“Good,” he said, kissing my temple. “I want us to feel… normal again.”

I didn’t believe a word.

Candice walked in carrying a tray. She avoided my eyes. Her movements were strangely stiff.

As she placed the tray down, her foot slid on a wet patch on the marble floor.

She shrieked—“Ah!”

The tray crashed.

Jaxon rushed toward her instantly. “Candice! Are you hurt?”

She clung to him dramatically. “My ankle—oh God—does it look swollen? I think I slipped because the floor wasn’t dried… did the maid clean it? Or maybe—maybe Ysobel—”

Jaxon’s head snapped toward me.

I almost laughed. “Are you seriously suggesting I wet the floor for you?”

Candice sniffled. “I… I didn’t say that… I just… I don’t know…”

He glared at me as if it were possible. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

He scooped her up and carried her out of the room like she was made of glass.

Leaving me alone at the dining table.

I stared at my plate and started eating as I didn’t want to waste my time on them. Whatever they want to do, it’s up to me.

So I picked up my fork.

One bite. Two. On the third bite—

My throat burned.

I coughed once. Twice. Then the burning spread like fire through my chest. My heart slammed against my ribs.

I grabbed the edge of the table.

“What—what did she—”

My vision doubled. My lungs tightened like someone was squeezing them shut.

The room tilted.

I tried to call the maid, but my voice was a rasp. She rushed in, eyes widening in panic. “Ma’am—are you alright? Oh my God—what happened?”

I pointed weakly to the food. “W-who… made this?”

She froze. “C–Candice did, Ma’am. I—I only served it—”

The world spun violently.

I could feel myself slipping away.

Before it all went dark, I had just enough strength to call my best friend Levi.

When I opened my eyes again, I was inside the hospital. Levi sat by my bedside, eyes swollen, fists clenched. The moment he saw me awake, he exhaled shakily.

“You scared me to death,” he whispered.

“What… happened?” My throat hurt to speak.

His face crumpled. “You were poisoned, Ysobel.”

Tears burned my eyes. My hands instinctively went to my stomach.

Levi swallowed hard. His voice broke. “Ysobel… you lost the baby.”

A quiet, hollow sob escaped me. The pain was too deep to scream. Too sharp to hold.

Levi pulled me into his arms gently. “It will be okay… I’m here. You can have another one someday—when you’re with the right man. Someone who deserves you.”

I cried until I had no breath left. When my sobs finally faded, Levi brushed my hair away and said softly,

“Your father called. He demanded you go home. I think it’s also time for you to go back to him, Ysobel.”