The Stranger In My Bed

Clara’s POV

If someone had ever told me that one day I would be trying to know the man I married from the start, I would have called it a joke and laughed it off.

But that was the reality of it all.

Ethan Hayes, the man I had married. Not out of love, but out of gratitude… And fear.

Gratitude, because he had saved my family from a life of struggle. Fear, because his world was a world of cold smiles, blood and money that could buy anything that wasn’t affection. A world full of deceit. Where betrayal lurks at every corner.

I came from a modest family. Down to earth and never expected much as long as we had enough to eat.

My mum worked in a bakery, her hands always filled with flour. My father, a retired postman. He always believed tomorrow would be better.

We might not have had much but we had love. And that was enough.

And then there was Ethan’s world. Power and control were dishes regularly served. Dishes served cold. When I got married, everyone said I was lucky. I had captured a big fish, they said.

What they didn’t know was that my freedom was exchanged for wealth. My family needed a means to end our suffering, Ethan needed a woman to birth his heir. And so a deal was struck, sealing two fates as one.

“Clara”, he called out to me one day as he prepared for work. Flipping through his phone, checking for any new updates about the company while I poured his coffee.

His voice was cold, detached. His face was unreadable. “You forgot to sort my documents and my shirt wasn’t ironed properly”

“But we have people for that. And sorting your documents is your secretary’s duty and…”

“And you are my wife Clara. Do I need to say more?” His gaze stern as he watched me making me freeze.

“I’m sorry. I …”

“I don’t want apologies Clara. I want it done” he replied coldly, his stare sharp as icicles. My throat tightened. I couldn’t understand what else he wanted.

But arguing with him never helped. Instead it always added fuel to fire and that cold, quiet anger that made me spiral every single time.

“I’ll do better next time”, I said softly. Not daring to look him straight in the eye.

He gave me a small nod, not even glancing at me and kept on sipping his coffee slowly. The soft clink of his cup filled the silence.

Sometimes I wondered what would happen if I smashed that cup across the walls, or did anything at all in order to hear another sound that wasn’t disdainful in this house. Swallowing it all, I slowly made my way into the room. Giving him the space he needed.

Our marriage was built on appearances. A smile here, a wave there. In public we were the perfect couple, a true Cinderella story. But home, it felt like hell on earth.

I tried everything I could to make him love me. To respect me at the very least. As his partner and his equal. But all my efforts went down the drain.

I learnt his favorite meals, participated in business talks all while pretending not to notice the gap between us.

But Ethan was like winter. Beautiful and yet deadly. Fascinating at first but could lead to your demise if you stay too long.

It had taken a long time for him to warm up to me, and now, we were back to

square one.

*** ***

A few days later, I sat in my doctor’s office wondering what my fate held in store for me. Waiting for a piece of paper that could either make my day or rather still, wreck it.

Clutching my bag tightly, I felt my palms sweating. The air conditioner was on full blast, but even that couldn’t help with my racing emotions.

Maybe, just maybe. Then Ethan would smile at me again. If the tests turned out positive, I might earn a bit of respect from the Hayes family. Thinking of everything that could change, I clasped my hands together as I made a silent prayer in my heart, anxious for a miracle.

When the door finally opened, I straightened immediately. Dr. Monroe walked in, wearing his usual calm expression

A brown envelope held carefully in his arms.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Monroe,” I greeted quietly as I tried to read his face.

He nodded in acknowledgement and went to sit on his chair. Alarm bells quickly rang in my head. Doctor Monroe was the type to smile whenever there was good news. But still, I kept on having hope.

My voice, trembling as I asked with curiosity, “H-how is the test, Doctor? Am I… am I pregnant?”

My fingers dug into the edge of the desk. My stomach twisted as I watched him open the file slowly. Every second felt like an eternity. And his silence fanned the flames of my despair.

My eyes lingered on him, watching his every move. My ears were sharp as I waited to hear what the result said.

After I gave birth to Rhyan four years ago, Ethan's distance and cold eyes got worse because I couldn't get pregnant anymore.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was desperately wanting to have another child, he would have stopped making love to me.

I felt a sense of relief when I developed a headache, and a feeling of nausea. And getting pregnant was the only thing I needed to be loved by my husband.

He adjusted his glass slowly before he spoke in a low voice. “Mrs. Clara,” he began quietly, his eyes lowering. “I’m deeply sorry to tell you that your test was negative.”

The world seemed to stop. For a moment, I just stared at him. I heard the words, but they held no meaning. The world went still as my heartbeat roared in my ears.

And all of a sudden, everything rushed in. His words, despair, the memories. My heart sank in my stomach as I wished that the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping against the marble floor. “No, that’s not possible,” I whispered. “Maybe…maybe you mixed it up. Yeah, a mixup. That’s probably it” I said to myself. Clinging to every last hopeful thought I could come up with.

Dr. Monroe sighed. “Our tests are always accurate, Mrs. Hayes.”

Tears rapidly fell from my eyes as I felt myself losing control.

“You don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “This was supposed to be it. I’ve been feeling dizzy, nauseous…”

“Stress can cause those symptoms too,” he interrupted gently.

I bit my lip hard to stop it from trembling, but the tears refused to stop. They slid down my cheeks slowly, silently, like they’d been waiting for this moment.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

He reached out, placing a hand on mine. “Clara… I know how much this means to you. But sometimes the body just needs time. There are options…treatments.”

I flinched as I pulled my hand away. “Time?” I said, my voice breaking. “Four years, Doctor. It’s been four years since Rhyan was born. Have I not been patient enough?.”

I asked loudly. My voice cracking. They don’t understand. This was supposed to be it. The moment that would turn everything around.

Dr. Monroe’s eyes softened, but he stayed quiet. He’d been our family doctor since.

He’d seen me through every heartbreak, every failed test, and every forced smile I gave in front of Mrs. Hayes.

“Ethan’s mother wouldn't allow me to go anywhere else for tests,” I said quietly, mostly to myself. “She insists I only come here for a test. And I never understood why.”

How could I go back to that house and tell Ethan that I tested negative.

I wiped my tears quickly.

“Mrs Hayes will be happy now,” I muttered to myself. “Another reason to sing to me about how useless I am.”