Chapter 2

"Mr. Hatfield, you love your wife very much," the doctor had said warmly just last month.

Karyme had needed minor surgery, and Archie had been a picture of devotion. He held her hand, his face etched with worry, kissing her forehead and whispering how much he loved her until the anesthetic pulled her under.

But when she woke up, he was gone.

A text message glowed on her phone.

"Something urgent at home, my love. I' ll be back as soon as I can."

She went home alone, a cold knot of dread in her stomach.

She found out later what the "urgent" matter was. His father, in a fit of rage that the first "attempt" with the surrogate hadn't resulted in a pregnancy, had threatened to starve himself to death.

The old man had locked Archie and Faustina in the master bedroom together.

This time, there were no drugs, no alcohol.

Just his father's command.

And Karyme was once again locked in the adjacent room.

She listened all night.

At first, the pain was unbearable. She cried until she had no tears left, her body shaking with sobs.

Then, the grief turned to a cold, creeping numbness.

She started counting.

One. Two. Three.

She counted every time she heard Faustina's sharp cry, every time the rhythm of their bodies changed.

The sound was a hammer, and her heart was the anvil. With every blow, a piece of it shattered.

The third time was today. Their anniversary.

Archie had filled their suite with her favorite flowers, white gardenias. He had a chef on standby to cook her favorite meal.

He was in the middle of a beautiful, heartfelt speech, his eyes shining with what looked like love, when his phone rang.

It was Faustina.

Archie's face fell. He looked at Karyme, his expression a mask of apology and frustration.

"I have to go, Karyme. It's important. I'll be right back."

He kissed her quickly, a dry, meaningless press of his lips, and then he was gone.

He never came back.

Karyme drove herself home.

She sat in the dark living room all night, feeling nothing. She was a hollow shell.

The sounds from the master bedroom started just after midnight and didn't stop until the sun began to rise.

The door finally opened. Archie emerged, followed by Faustina.

Faustina's neck and collarbone were covered in dark bruises, love bites that screamed of a long, passionate night.

The sight made Karyme's eyes burn.

Archie didn't even look at Faustina. "Get out," he said, his voice cold and flat.

Faustina looked surprised, then her face crumpled. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she scurried away.

Archie turned to Karyme and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, my love. He made me. It was for my father."

His arms were strong, his voice was tender, but Karyme felt nothing. She was numb, a statue in his embrace.

"Archie," she said, her voice a dead whisper. "Do you remember what you promised when you proposed?"

He held her tighter. "I remember. I will never betray you, Karyme. Never."