I Was Just a Stand-In for His Dead First Love, Until I Walked Away for Good

I should have known. He was Cindy Simmons's child.

More than that, he was the living echo of every story Otto had ever told him, all the times he'd recited how deeply he loved the boy's mother.

Why would a child like that ever save me, the 'tool' who'd taken her place?

The words hung in the air, and the footsteps drifted further away.

That last sliver of hope died completely.

Otto knew the dark, closed space was lethal to me. He knew, and still he chose this exact method to break me into surrender.

As the light in front of my eyes faded, I lost consciousness entirely.

I don't know how long I was out before soft lips pressed against mine, coaxing me back from the dark one kiss at a time.

"Beth, you're finally awake."

"I'm sorry, Beth. I timed it carefully, I really thought nothing would happen. Let me make it up to you, alright?"

Otto was half-leaning over the edge of the bed, a trace of guilt in his eyes.

As he spoke, his hand settled at my waist, stroking, sliding outward.

I looked into those hazy, intoxicated eyes, and I never could have imagined his idea of an apology would be this vile.

A wave of nausea surged up in my throat.

I jerked my head aside, threw every ounce of strength into shoving him off me, my voice shaking.

"Don't touch me."

His hand stilled. "I already lowered myself to apologize. What more do you want?"

His breath came hot, edged with anger.

I put everything I had left into one slap across his face.

Otto froze for a long moment. When the heat finally cleared from him and he came back to his senses, he let out a cold laugh.

He pulled out his phone, opened our chat, and tapped.

One after another, the shrill chimes rang out. Ten thousand dollars received.

My defiance hung frozen in midair. I watched him finish the whole thing in one smooth motion.

Then he lowered his eyes and looked down at me.

"You took my money happily enough before. I sent you a little extra this time. Satisfied?"

The words cut like a blade, slicing through the last shred of false hope I'd been holding onto.

Every memory came rushing back at once, every transfer, every transaction. In his eyes I had never been anything more than a body to warm his bed.

The pain in my chest sharpened to the edge of numbness. A bone-deep cold, laced with despair, soaked through me.

I collapsed back onto the bed. I didn't even have the strength left to defend myself.

Then a knock at the door broke the standoff.

Otto rose and crossed to the door. The instant he pulled it open, his whole body went rigid.

Standing outside was Cindy.

"Otto, I'm home."

Seeing that face he'd longed for over five years, even his breathing came apart.

A few seconds of stunned silence passed before he slowly invited her in.

The look in his eyes as he gazed at her was flooded with the joy of getting back what he'd lost.

I forced my body upright and dragged my heavy steps toward the door, trying to see what was happening outside.

But Otto heard me move, and on instinct he blocked her line of sight, gesturing for Dylan to shut the bedroom door.

Sealing me out completely.

"Otto, I didn't mean to leave without a word back then... I just..."

Cindy's soft, choked voice came through from outside. She kept starting to speak and stopping, as if some unspoken hardship held her back.

And Otto, whose voice had carried such venom toward me moments ago, now soothed her with nothing but tenderness.

"Cindy, you're back, that's all that matters. There'll be plenty of time to explain everything else later."

Cindy lifted her head through her sobs and met Dylan's eager gaze.

"Mommy! Here, take a tissue, don't cry anymore. Dylan will stay with you from now on."

Looking at that little face, half a mirror of her own, Cindy turned to Otto in a daze.

"Our child? He's already this big?"