Chapter 1

The small plus sign on the test stick felt heavier than any weight I' d ever lifted.

After six years, after more than a dozen rounds of IVF, it was finally positive.

Mark' s low sperm count had made this a long, hard road.

I sank onto the bathroom floor in Midland City, a wave of nausea hitting me hard.

This was supposed to be a moment of joy.

Instead, my stomach churned with a sickness that wasn' t just from the pregnancy.

I fumbled for my phone, needing to tell Mark, needing to share this, even though things had been… off.

His tech startup, Innovate Solutions, was finally getting some traction.

Secretly, it was my anonymous investments keeping it afloat.

He didn' t know. He just knew he was suddenly doing better.

And he' d become… different. Arrogant. Dismissive.

My thumb hovered over his contact when an Instagram notification popped up.

Chloe Bishop. Mark' s executive assistant. Mid-twenties, ambitious.

Her story. A picture.

Mark, my husband, tenderly cutting a steak for Chloe at a fancy restaurant.

Her caption: "My boss is the sweetest... I'd do anything for him! 😉 #WorkPerks #BestBoss."

The date stamp on the picture was from last night.

The picture showed a small cake with "Happy 3 Years!" written on it.

Three years.

We' d been married for almost six.

The nausea intensified, bile rising in my throat.

My finger, trembling, tapped the heart icon. I liked the post.

A hollow laugh escaped me.

My phone rang. Mark.

"Ellie? You okay? You didn't show up for our dinner reservation."

His voice was flat, no concern.

"I wasn't feeling well," I managed, my voice weak.

"Right. Well, Chloe managed to reschedule everything for me, handled all my calls. She' s a lifesaver. You should be grateful you don' t have to deal with all this stress."

Grateful.

He was praising his mistress to his wife, who had just found out she was pregnant with his child after years of painful treatments.

"Mark," I started, my voice dangerously low.

"Look, I gotta go. Big client meeting Chloe set up. Don' t be dramatic, okay? Just rest."

He hung up.

Dramatic.

I stared at the positive pregnancy test in one hand, my phone displaying Chloe' s triumphant post in the other.

The baby I' d fought so hard for.

His baby.

And his three-year anniversary with another woman.

The sickness wasn't just morning sickness anymore. It was disgust.