Chapter 3

Cameron arrives in ten minutes.

His usually perfect hair is slightly messy, a rare sign of haste. He ignores my resistance and grabs my hand, offering my parents a polite, apologetic smile.

"This is all my fault. I upset Rebecca."

My father immediately tells the butler to bring out the best tea leaves. My mother insists on cooking dinner herself to keep Cameron for the evening.

And I'm just... there. A ghost in the room. No one cares how I feel.

Just like that, I'm back in the car, heading back to Cameron's villa.

Before I leave, Mom pulls me aside and mysteriously hands me a small bottle of pink liquid. She claims it's a "miracle" for marital intimacy.

"Men stray not just because of the other woman, but because the wife fails her duties. You're pregnant now, and Cameron has needs."

"Listen to me, Becca. This potion will make him obsessed with you again, and it won't hurt the baby."

Instead of taking the bottle, I look at her like she's a complete stranger.

We share the same blood, but today, I finally see her for who she really is.

Seeing me frozen, she forces the bottle into my hand.

On the other side of the lawn, Dad is frantically trying to light a cigarette for Cameron.

Cameron refuses. "Dad, second-hand smoke isn't good for a pregnant woman."

Josh laughs awkwardly. "Right, right. My mistake."

The scene is absurd.

...

A few days later, Cameron hires a therapist for me.

The therapist claims my "irrationality" is just hormonal shifts from pregnancy.

Cameron returns to being the attentive, perfect husband, treating me with such care that I almost wonder if the fight was just a bad dream.

But I'm not fooled by the staged sweetness.

The coldness and impatience he showed that night left a scar that won't heal. Every time I feel a phantom pain, I'm reminded of the truth. I can't act like everything is fine, so I mostly give him the cold shoulder.

As long as I don't mention divorce, Cameron doesn't get angry. He thinks I've been "tamed."

He has no idea that I've already booked a one-way ticket to New Zealand.

I'm leaving him in a week. I'm leaving Manhattan. I'm never coming back. Not for him, and not for my parents. I'm done being used.

I've also scheduled an appointment to terminate the pregnancy. It's tomorrow.

But Cameron is keeping a tight leash on me. Even when he's at the office, he has bodyguards following me. I can't tell if he's protective of me or just the heir in my belly.

The next morning, I do something out of character: I make him breakfast. He's visibly surprised. In five years, I've rarely stepped into the kitchen, let alone made a full spread tailored to his tastes.

After he finishes eating, I tell him I'm going for a prenatal check-up.

He reaches for his phone. "I'll push the morning meeting to the afternoon."

"No need. I can go by myself." I take the initiative to help him straighten his tie. "Cameron, I'm not a child. I don't need you or the guards breathing down my neck. Go to your meeting. I'll call you if I need anything."

Cameron looks down at his perfectly knotted tie, then at me. After a moment of hesitation, he nods. Before he walks out, he reminds me a dozen times to be careful.

Then he adds, "Becca, come home early after the check-up. Gracie spent half her salary on a gift for you. She's coming over tonight to apologize."