Chapter 2

2

In his haste, he'd left the door slightly ajar.

Lying in the bed was Sarah, our housekeeper's daughter.

John's face lit up as he leaned over her belly, his voice a gentle murmur. "See? The baby's fine. You're going to be a mom soon, stop being so dramatic. Don't scare me like that again, okay?"

He tapped Sarah's forehead affectionately. She giggled, grabbing his hand and kissing it. "I just missed you. You spend all your time with her, can't you spend a little time with me?"

John bent down, showering her with kisses. "I just need to keep her calm for a little while longer. How else am I going to convince her to raise our child?"

"Everything I'm doing is so our child can inherit Lewis Enterprises, you know that, right?"

Weakness washed over me. I stumbled back, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a sob.

Not only had he killed our child, he planned to have me raise his child with Sarah.

Ten minutes ago, this man held my hand, whispering words of love. Now, he was in another woman's room, plotting my future as a unwitting mother to his illegitimate child.

If I hadn't heard it with my own ears, I would never have believed it. This was the man I'd loved for eight years.

The sounds of their lovemaking drifted from the room. Sarah's laughter echoed, followed by a breathless, "John, the doctor said a little fun is okay now that I'm in my third trimester… Oh! You're so bad!"

I watched, frozen, as if in a trance, before turning and walking away, each step heavier than the last. I headed straight for the doctor's office.

"Dr. Miller, please tell me the truth. Has my baby stopped moving?"

The words came out surprisingly calm, perhaps because my heart was already numb.

Dr. Miller adjusted his glasses, his eyes darting away before finally settling on mine. "Mrs. Lewis, I shouldn't tell you this without Mr. Lewis's permission, but your baby… your baby stopped developing two months ago."

He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

He knew the risks of carrying a stillborn child for two months. John wanted me to give up on our child completely, so I would agree to raise another.

I spoke calmly. "Dr. Miller, I need a favor. After the surgery, could you tell John that I died on the operating table?"

Dr. Miller's face was etched with guilt. "Yes. I can do that."

Leaving the doctor's office, I ran into Sarah, out for a stroll, John patiently supporting her arm.

John's face paled when our eyes met. He instantly released Sarah and hurried toward me, his voice laced with concern. "Honey, I've been looking everywhere for you! Why are you out here alone? It's dangerous!"

Fresh, red scratch marks adorned his chest, a stark reminder of their recent passionate encounter.

I forced a bitter smile. It was dangerous, the danger of me discovering his affair.

"I wasn't feeling well," I said coldly, subtly distancing myself from his touch. "I wanted to ask Dr. Miller some questions."

Sarah approached, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Wow, John, you're so attentive. Gone for two minutes and you're already searching the whole hospital for her."

The mockery in her tone was impossible to ignore.

Before I could respond, John snapped at her, his face darkening. "None of your business, Sarah. Just go!"

He used annoyance and indifference to mask their illicit relationship.

But as I watched Sarah storm off, the concern in his eyes was unmistakable.

I noticed a St. Christopher medal hanging from Sarah's waist, similar to the one he'd given me, yet subtly different.

Back in our room, I discreetly searched for St. Christopher medals online. Mine was a cheap imitation, Sarah's was the real deal.

When I first discovered I was pregnant, John hadn't seemed particularly thrilled. He'd remained strangely detached.

Then, he'd spent a day and night at a church, praying and copying scriptures, returning with the medal, claiming it would protect our baby.

I’d convinced myself he was simply bad at expressing his emotions, touched by his grand gesture.

It was all a lie. He'd prayed for Sarah's baby, not ours. The medal was a fake, just like his love.