Chapter 6

Dessie called in sick the next day. The emotional storm had left her physically drained. She fell into a heavy, restless sleep, only to be violently shaken awake.

Craig stood over her, his face a mask of pure fury. He grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her out of bed.

"What did you do?" he snarled, his eyes wild.

"What are you talking about?" she mumbled, still groggy.

"Chanel is in the hospital! You tried to poison her! You put something in her soup!"

The accusation was so insane, so utterly baseless, that Dessie could only stare at him in disbelief. "That' s crazy. I would never do that."

"The doctors found traces of a rare herb in her system. It can cause a miscarriage," he raged, his grip tightening. "And since you were the only other person in the house, it had to be you!"

He didn' t even consider her innocence. He didn' t pause to think about how she, a software architect, would even get her hands on a "rare herb." He had already tried and convicted her in his mind. Chanel' s word was gospel.

The last remnants of her love for him curdled into pure disgust.

With a surge of adrenaline, she shoved him away. "She' s not even pregnant with your child! Why are you so obsessed with a baby that isn' t yours?"

His face went dark. "You' ve become a monster, Dessie. Unreasonable. Vicious. I was wrong about you. So wrong."

"You' re wrong about everything," she said, her voice dripping with contempt.

"You' re coming to the hospital with me," he said, grabbing her arm again. "You' re going to get on your knees and apologize to Chanel."

He dragged her out of the house and forced her into his car. The ride to the hospital was silent and suffocating.

Chanel was in a private room, looking pale and weak against the white pillows. She had an IV in her arm, though the bag was just a saline drip. The moment she saw Dessie, she started to cry.

"Craig, why did you bring her here? I' m scared of her."

"Apologize," Craig commanded, shoving Dessie toward the bed.

Dessie stumbled, catching herself against the wall. She looked at the man in front of her, this stranger who was so quick to believe the worst of her, who would publicly humiliate her for a liar.

"I have nothing to apologize for."

Chanel sat up, her voice a low, venomous whisper for Dessie' s ears only. "See? He' ll never believe you. He doesn' t love you. He never did."

The words were meant to break her, but they did the opposite. They severed the last, final thread of attachment.

"You are disgusting," Dessie said, looking from Chanel to Craig. "Both of you."

She turned and walked out of the room.

"Dessie, get back here!" Craig yelled.

He started to follow her, but Chanel let out a pained cry. "Craig, my stomach! It hurts!"

He hesitated, torn for a single second. Then he turned back to Chanel' s bedside. He chose the lie.

Dessie walked down the long, sterile hallway, her steps steady. But the emotional toll was too much. The world tilted, the lights overhead blurring into streaks. Her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving floor.

When she woke up, she was in a hospital bed. A nurse was checking her vitals.

"You fainted from exhaustion and dehydration, miss. We' ve given you some fluids. Is there any family we can call for you?"

Dessie looked at the empty chair beside her bed. He hadn' t come for her. He hadn' t even checked on her.

"No," she said, her voice hollow. "I don' t have any family."

She stayed overnight. The next evening, she took a taxi home. She walked in to find Craig and Chanel laughing and sharing a meal at the dining table. They looked like a happy, domestic couple.

They hadn' t called. They hadn' t checked. They hadn' t even noticed she was gone.

Craig looked up, his expression one of annoyance. "Where have you been? Running off like that without a word. You had me worried."

Worried. The word was a bitter joke. Worried she would cause more trouble? Worried she would further tarnish his precious reputation?

He hadn' t been worried about her.

She didn' t say a word. She just looked at him, at the man she had given her heart to, and felt nothing but a vast, cold emptiness. He had finally killed every last bit of her love.

She turned and walked toward the bedroom, ignoring his calls.

"Dessie! Don' t you walk away from me! You' re the one who' s in the wrong here! You tried to harm my wife and my child, and you haven' t even apologized!"

She stopped in the doorway, her back to him, and said the words that would define her new life.

"We' re done, Craig."