While I Delivered His Baby, My Husband Saved His Mistress

I was carrying folded towels to the linen closet when Oaklee stepped out from the guest suite. The hallway was empty. Dinner had ended an hour ago. Ashton was in his study. Lillian had retired.

Oaklee's face was different than it had been at the table. The soft vulnerability she wore around Ashton had vanished. Her eyes were sharp. Cold.

She moved closer. Close enough that I could smell her perfume—something expensive Ashton had probably bought her.

'You can play the martyr all you want,' she said. Her voice was low. Venomous. 'But he doesn't want you. He never did.'

I looked at her. Really looked. At the girl who had walked into my home and decided to take what I'd already stopped wanting. At the performance she'd perfected. At the calculation behind every tear.

My thumbnail pressed into my palm.

'I know,' I said.

The words came out quiet. Flat. No anger. No pain. Just acknowledgment.

I walked past her to the linen closet, set the towels on the shelf, and continued down the hall to my room. Behind me, silence. I didn't look back.

In my room, I closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed. My hands were steady. My breathing was even. The baby shifted inside me, a rolling movement that pressed against my ribs.

I placed my hand over the spot and waited for my heart rate to return to normal.

It took less than a minute.

Two days later, Ashton found me in the library. I was reading—or pretending to. The words on the page had stopped making sense around chapter three, but the book gave my hands something to hold.

He stood in the doorway. His tie was loosened. His expression was the one he used in board meetings when someone had disappointed him.

'We need to talk,' he said.

I set the book down. 'Okay.'

He walked in but didn't sit. He stood with his back to the window, backlit so I couldn't see his face clearly.

'Oaklee came to me this morning,' he said. 'She's upset.'

I waited.

'She says you've been staring at her. That you make her feel unsafe.' He paused. 'She's afraid you might do something.'

'Do something,' I repeated.

'To her. Or the baby.' His voice was careful. Measured. 'I know this situation isn't easy for you, Sylvia. But Oaklee is carrying my child. She's part of this family now. You need to accept that.'

My hands were folded in my lap. I looked down at them. At the wedding ring I still wore. At the thumbnail I'd pressed into my palm so many times there was a permanent callus.

'What exactly am I being accused of?' I asked.

'I'm not accusing you of anything.' He shifted his weight. 'I'm asking you to be more aware of how you're coming across. Oaklee is vulnerable right now. She needs to feel safe in this house.'

'And I don't?'

The question came out before I could stop it. Quiet. Almost curious.

Ashton's jaw tightened. 'That's not what I said.'

'What are you saying?'

He exhaled through his nose. 'I'm saying that your attitude toward her has been hostile. Cold. And it needs to stop.'

I stood. My belly made the movement awkward, but I managed. I walked to the bookshelf and straightened a book that didn't need straightening.

'I haven't said a word to her that wasn't polite,' I said.

'It's not what you say. It's how you look at her. How you make her feel.'

'How I make her feel.'

'Yes.'

I turned to face him. The light from the window was behind him, casting his face in shadow. I wondered if he'd positioned himself that way on purpose. If he'd learned it in some negotiation seminar.

'I'll be more careful,' I said.

He studied me. Looking for something. Resistance, maybe. A crack he could widen.

I gave him nothing.

'Good,' he said finally. 'I'm glad we understand each other.'

He left.

I stood by the bookshelf until I heard his study door close. Then I sat back down and picked up the book I wasn't reading.

My phone buzzed. A text from Dr. Voss's office confirming my appointment for tomorrow. I typed a response with steady fingers.

Then I opened my banking app and checked the balance on the account Lillian had set up years ago. The account that would receive the final payment once this baby was born. Once the contract was fulfilled.

The number hadn't changed. But it would. Soon.

I closed the app. Set the phone down. Pressed my thumbnail into my palm and counted to ten.

When I reached ten, I started over.