Chapter 2

Aliza's POV:

The sterile scent of the hospital room filled my nostrils, a stark reminder of the void that had suddenly opened within me. Miscarriage. The word still felt foreign, a cruel punchline to a joke I hadn't understood until now. I reached for my abdomen, a phantom ache blooming where life had briefly, secretly, resided.

The nurse, a kind woman named Sarah, gave me a small, sad smile. "You're going to be okay, Mrs. West." Her voice was soft, but the words felt like sandpaper against my raw soul. "Your husband has been informed."

As if summoned, the door creaked open. Dax stood there, tall and imposing, yet for a split second, I saw a flicker of genuine concern in his eyes. But then, Frida materialized beside him, her arm linked through his, a bandage neatly wrapped around her temple. She looked pale, but undeniably radiant, basking in his undivided attention. She offered me a sympathetic, yet oddly triumphant, smile.

"Oh, darling, I'm so terribly sorry to hear about your... unfortunate incident," Frida cooed, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. She pressed her free hand to her chest. "Dax was so worried, rushing to my side after my little bump. Imagine, you were in an accident too! What awful luck."

Dax's arm tightened around Frida's waist. He didn't look at me, his gaze fixed on Frida's face, his concern palpable. "Frida, are you sure you should be up?" he murmured, ushering her gently back towards the door. "You need to rest."

"But Aliza, my dear, I just had to see you," Frida insisted, casting a fleeting glance at me, a mirage of compassion. "We'll leave you to recover. Dax has been such a rock for me."

And then they were gone, the door closing softly behind them, leaving me in the suffocating silence once more. My throat tightened, a bitter, metallic taste filling my mouth. "Unfortunate incident." "A little bump." That was all my loss amounted to, a footnote in their drama. He hadn't even stayed. He had chosen her again. The crushing ache in my chest intensified, a slow, agonizing burn.

My phone, lying forgotten on the bedside table, suddenly rang. It was Dr. Aris. I fumbled for it, my hands trembling.

"Aliza, what on earth happened?" Dr. Aris's voice was tight, strained. "You missed the Chimera project kickoff. The board is furious. They see this as a huge red flag for your commitment."

"Dr. Aris, I... I had an emergency," I stammered, my voice cracking. "I was in the hospital. I just had a miscarriage."

A heavy silence stretched between us. Then, Dr. Aris sighed, a long, weary sound. "Aliza, I'm so sorry to hear that. Truly. But this project... it's high stakes. We needed you there. The board is already questioning your stability. Especially after... well, after the company has already invested so much in you."

"But it wasn't my fault," I pleaded, tears stinging my eyes. "Dax was driving me there, and then Frida's accident happened, and he just... he took me here instead."

Another sigh. "Aliza, I understand you're going through a lot. But this isn't making things easy. The decision has been made. You're off the project. Effective immediately." Her voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

The phone slipped from my numb fingers. Off the project. My dream. Gone. In a single, horrifying day, I had lost everything. My child, my career, and the last shred of my belief in Dax's love. The room spun. I closed my eyes, a silent sob escaping my lips.

That evening, Dax returned to the hospital room alone. He carried a bouquet of white lilies, their scent cloying in the air. "Aliza," he said, his voice a little softer than before. "I'm sorry. About... everything." He placed the flowers on the bedside table, careful not to look directly at me. "Frida is resting at home. Minor concussion, nothing serious."

My gaze was fixed on his face, searching for something, anything. "And me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "What about me, Dax?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I told you, Aliza. I'm sorry." He reached for my hand, but I pulled away, recoiling from his touch. "It was an accident. These things happen."

"These things happen?" The words were ice on my tongue. "You left me. You abandoned me in the car to rush to her. And now... I've lost our baby. And my job. All for her 'minor bump'?" My voice rose, raw with grief and anger. "Why, Dax? Why is she always more important?"

His jaw tightened. His eyes, usually so guarded, flashed with something akin to annoyance. "Aliza, don't you dare accuse me of that. Frida needed me. She was terrified. And as for the baby, it's unfortunate, but we can try again." He paused, then his voice dropped, a warning underlying his words. "And don't forget your place. You are my wife. You will not question my loyalty."

His words, cold and dismissive, plunged a dagger into my already wounded heart. My place. He saw me as a possession, a status symbol, not a partner, not a woman who had just lost his child. I felt a profound emptiness, a cold, hard space where my love for him had once resided. The expectations I had carried into this marriage, the naive hope that my devotion would eventually melt his icy exterior, crumbled into dust. I had envisioned a life of mutual respect, of shared dreams, of a family. Instead, I had found a gilded cage, and a husband whose heart belonged to a ghost.

A few days later, back in the sprawling, silent mansion, my parents came to visit. My mother, seeing my hollow eyes, wrapped me in a tight embrace. "My poor girl," she murmured, stroking my hair. My father, usually stern, patted my shoulder awkwardly. They were worried. Dax, ever the dutiful husband in public, had arranged for me to be brought home, ensuring all appearances were maintained.

That evening, Dax walked into the living room, a rare smile on his face. "Aliza," he said, holding out a glossy brochure. "My mother insisted we start planning. For the nursery." He pointed to a picture of a lavish, pastel-filled room. "She thinks we should go with a classical theme. What do you think?"

I stared at the brochure, then at him. The thought of another child, of filling that empty space, was a terrifying prospect. My voice was a whisper. "Dax... will you be a good father?"

He paused, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Then, he smiled, a real smile this time, though it felt forced. He knelt before me, pulling out a small, velvet box. "Aliza, I promise you, I will be the best father." He opened the box to reveal a glittering diamond pendant, shaped like a tiny star. "This is for our future. Our new beginning." He closed the box, opened his palm, and with a childish grin, placed my hand on his. "Pinky promise?"

A strange lightness, fleeting and fragile, touched my heart. It was a childish gesture, so unlike the stoic CEO, yet it offered a momentary reprieve from the crushing weight of my grief. It reminded me, vaguely, of another promise, long ago, in a different lifetime. A promise of safety, of forever. I almost believed him. Almost.

I nodded, a weak smile playing on my lips. "Okay, Dax," I whispered. "Pinky promise."

That night, alone again in our bedroom, I stared at the star pendant. The memory of the Chimera project, my dream job, flickered in my mind. I couldn't let everything go. I had to reclaim some part of myself. I picked up my phone. I would call Dr. Aris again, beg for another chance, anything. I wouldn't just be "Mrs. West," a grieving woman whose only purpose was to bear an heir. I was Aliza Hayes, biochemist. And I would fight for that.

The next day, armed with renewed determination, I dressed in my sharpest suit and headed to the university. Dr. Aris was hesitant but agreed to give me a chance to present my case to the departmental board. As I walked down the familiar hallway, my heart thumped with a mix of hope and anxiety. I pushed open the door to the research lab, only to freeze.

Frida Brennan was there. In a lab coat two sizes too big, striking a pose for a camera crew. She was laughing, her high-pitched giggle echoing through the usually sacred space. "Oh, the wonders of science!" she chirped, holding up a test tube for the camera. "So fascinating!"

My blood ran cold. What was she doing here?

She spotted me. Her smile faltered for a microsecond, then brightened, becoming even more saccharine. "Aliza, darling! What a surprise! Dax said you were... recovering."

"Frida," I said, my voice tight. "What are you doing in my lab?"

She batted her eyelashes, feigning innocence. "Oh, didn't you hear? Dax pulled some strings. West Enterprises is a major sponsor of this project now, and I'm joining the team as a 'celebrity ambassador' to raise awareness! Isn't it just fabulous?" She winked at the camera.

My world tilted. Dax. He had done this. He had not only ensured I lost my original position but had now inserted his precious Frida into my project, making a mockery of my life's work. The rage that surged through me was cold and pure.

Just then, my supervisor, Dr. Aris, walked in, looking flustered. "Aliza, perfect timing. We just finished the orientation for our new... team member." She gave me an apologetic glance that spoke volumes.

"Team member?" I scoffed, my voice laced with venom. "She's an actress, Dr. Aris. What does she know about biochemistry?"

Frida pouted dramatically for the cameras. "Oh, Aliza, don't be such a naysayer! I'm here to learn, to inspire! Dax thinks it's a brilliant idea!"

"Dax thinks it's a brilliant idea," I repeated, the words burning on my tongue. He hadn't just neglected me; he was actively sabotaging me, for her. The last threads of my naive hope snapped.

Suddenly, Dax appeared, striding confidently into the lab, a proprietary hand landing on Frida's shoulder. He looked at me, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. "Aliza. I assume you're here to apply for a research assistant position. This project is vital, and Frida's involvement will ensure maximum public interest."

He said it so casually, as if demoting me from team leader to assistant, and replacing me with a b-list actress, was a perfectly normal, acceptable action. His hand stroked Frida's arm with a tenderness he reserved only for her. Then he leaned down, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle, her eyes sparkling with delight.

My heart shattered, not into a thousand pieces, but into a fine, bitter dust. The pinky promise, the star pendant, the faint hope for a family-all of it felt like a cruel joke. He wasn't just emotionally distant; he was a walking, breathing betrayal. The man I had loved for a decade, the boy who had once filled my dreams, was a stranger. And worse, he was my enemy.