Chapter 2

A year into living under Ethan' s care, I missed a pill, then another. A month later, a doctor confirmed it.

I was pregnant.

When I told Ethan, his face broke into a smile so wide and genuine it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his cheek against my still-flat stomach.

"A baby," he whispered, his voice thick with awe. "Our baby. This is the best news of my life, Chloe. This is a new beginning for us."

His joy was infectious. For the first time in years, I felt a genuine spark of happiness. A baby. A family. Maybe my mother was wrong. Maybe I wasn't ruined after all. Maybe I could be saved.

A few weeks later, Ethan took me to the garden behind the house. The evening was warm, and the air smelled of roses. He had set up a small table with candles.

He took both of my hands in his, his expression serious and full of love.

"Chloe Davis," he said, his voice a low, steady murmur. "You are the strongest, most beautiful person I have ever known. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy, protecting you. Will you marry me?"

He pulled out a small velvet box. Inside was a simple, elegant diamond ring that sparkled in the candlelight.

My mind felt slow, syrupy. The daily medication kept the sharp edges of the world at bay, but it also made it hard to think clearly. I looked at his earnest, loving face. I thought of the baby growing inside me. This was safety. This was a future.

"Yes," I heard myself say. "Yes, Ethan. I'll marry you."

He slid the ring onto my finger, and it felt like a promise. A promise of a life I never thought I could have.

The next day, a man I vaguely recognized came to the house. Ethan introduced him as Dr. Ben Carter, an old friend from his childhood. Ben had a worried look in his eyes that he couldn't quite hide.

I was in the living room, trying to sketch, but my hands wouldn't cooperate. The lines were shaky and uncertain. I heard Ethan and Ben talking in the next room, their voices low but intense.

"You can't keep her on this dosage, Ethan," Ben said, his voice strained. "Especially not now that she's pregnant. It's not safe."

"It's what keeps her stable," Ethan replied, his tone sharp. "Do you want her to relapse? Do you want to see her back in that dark apartment, starving herself, afraid of the light? I won't let that happen."

"There are other medications, safer ones. We can wean her off slowly. What you're doing... it's more than just managing anxiety. It's suppression. You're trying to keep her in a fog."

"I am trying to keep her safe!" Ethan's voice rose, laced with a desperation that sent a small shiver down my spine. "I'm protecting her. And I'm protecting our child."

There was a long silence.

"This whole thing," Ben said finally, his voice barely a whisper. "This revenge... it's gone too far. It has to stop."

"It's not about revenge anymore," Ethan said quietly. "It's about love. I love her, Ben. And I'm going to fix everything."

Later that afternoon, Ethan came to me with my pills and a glass of water.

"Ben thinks we should try a new medication," he said, his voice casual. "But I don't want to risk it. Not when you're doing so well. We'll stick with what works, okay?"

He smiled, and I nodded, swallowing the pills without a thought. What works. He was right. I was better. I was happy.

A week later, Dr. Carter came to visit again. Ethan was out at a meeting for his family's tech company. Ben sat with me in the garden. He seemed nervous, constantly glancing towards the house.

"How are you feeling, Chloe?" he asked.

"I'm good," I said, smiling. "Happy."

He watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You were always so talented," he said, nodding at the abandoned sketchbook in my lap. "Ethan used to talk about your art all the time, back in high school. He said you could draw anything."

I frowned slightly. "I don't remember much about high school."

"The medication can do that," he said carefully. "It can cloud things. Make the past feel like a dream."

He leaned a little closer, his voice dropping. "Sometimes, dreams have important things hidden inside them. Things you need to remember."

His words were strange, cryptic. They hung in the air between us, creating a small crack in the peaceful facade of my life. I didn't understand what he meant, but a flicker of unease went through me.

He stood up to leave. "Ethan loves you very much, Chloe. He just... he has a very specific idea of how to show it. Be careful."

Before he left, he placed a small, unlabeled vial of pills on the table next to my sketchbook. "Just in case you ever want to see things more clearly," he whispered, and then he was gone.