Chapter 3 A Fucking Liar

Renee's words might have struck a nerve or instilled fear in Sylvia, who fell silent, stewing in her thoughts for a lengthy pause. Just as Renee braced herself for another onslaught of bold accusations, William intervened, snatching the phone from her hand. His kiss, fierce and claiming, then stole her breath away.

William wasn't one to make empty promises—he showed her exactly what gentleness could be. After what felt like an eternity of torment, Renee broke down in tears, pleading for mercy—only then did he finally relent.

Drained from the ordeal, she succumbed to sleep almost instantly. Throughout the night, she drifted in a half-conscious daze, vaguely aware of William leaving the bed.

By the time morning crept in, Renee awoke alone. She lay there on the vast bed that held both fresh and lingering memories, her mind adrift in contemplation. She turned towards the curtains, tightly drawn, blurring the lines between late morning rays and the onset of dusk.

A wave of weariness washed over her as she reached for her phone, her body still aching from the previous night's passions. That was when she saw it—a post from Sylvia on Instagram, unmistakably capturing William from behind, engrossed in cooking. The realization hit with the sharpness of a knife.

In a fit of rage, Renee hurled her phone against the wall. Despite the force, the device miraculously survived the impact.

"That fucking liar! That cheating piece of shit!" she snarled, fists clenched in anger.

Lifting the blanket, she tried to stand, but the lingering soreness made every movement a struggle. That scumbag had really done a number on her. Yet, he felt no pain at all—if anything, he was in high spirits as he happily went to cook for his lover.

Her anger simmered, fueled by each throbbing ache and the betrayal freshly unveiled.

Sylvia's post was a glaring provocation.

At that moment, a hesitant knock rapped at the door, followed by the maid's timid voice filtering through. "Mrs. Mitchell, are you up? Mr. Mitchell had me prepare something to help with your hangover."

Renee seethed with annoyance. Now that he was out cavorting with his mistress, why even bother sending the maid? She inhaled sharply, trying to quell the rising storm within her.

"I'm much better now, thank you. No need for that," Renee called out, her voice strained.

Yet, the maid lingered at the doorway, her tone soft and persistent. "Mrs. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell also specifically prepared a pill for you. Would you like to come out and take it?"

Confused and a bit curious, Renee cracked open the door and peered out. "What pill?" she asked, her brow furrowed in suspicion.

"You know, for after last night..." The maid trailed off delicately.

That was the last straw. Renee's control snapped like a rope stretched too tight for too long.

She was teetering dangerously on the edge of an outburst.

Over the past three years of their marriage, Renee had diligently taken a contraceptive pill after each of their intimate encounters. The thought of starting a family hadn't yet appealed to her; she wasn't ready to embrace motherhood.

The routine was simple when she managed it herself, but it felt different, almost intrusive, when William had the pills delivered to her.

"I'm not taking it!" Renee declared defiantly, her voice thick with resolve. "Tell that scumbag that if I get pregnant, I'll have the baby! Let's see how he deals with that!"

Her words echoed sharply as she slammed the door with a resounding thud, the sound reverberating off the walls.

The moment the maid stepped out, she started digging through the room for the pills she bought before, her remark earlier nothing more than a bitter jab.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto the plush bed, her body twisting and turning as she tried to find comfort in the soft linens. As sleep tugged at her consciousness, her mind seethed with curses aimed at William. She pondered his unexpected return from military service. Could his sudden appearance be tied to some trouble involving Sylvia?

Indeed, Renee's suspicions weren't unfounded. William's return had everything to do with Sylvia. The moment he was discharged, he'd tried reaching out to Renee, only to be met with silence. His inquiries led him to discover her recent escapades, including the escorts she'd taken to keeping company. In a mix of rage and desperation, he had stormed the bar where she frequented, dragged her away, and then rushed to attend to Sylvia.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Sylvia sat uncomfortably as the doctor concluded his examination.

"Ma'am, aside from some mild anemia, you're perfectly fine. By the way, is this gentleman your husband?"

The question caught Sylvia off guard, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

Leaning slightly forward, William questioned, "Doctor, should she be taking any extra precautions? Does she need to avoid any specific foods?"

He neither confirmed nor denied, preserving Sylvia's dignity.

"Just avoid seafood, particularly crabs. Beyond that, she's free to enjoy whatever she likes. Be grateful she's not constantly battling nausea. She's dealing with morning sickness—consider yourself lucky she can still eat without throwing up."

"Got it. Thanks for your help, doctor." William's response was polite, tinged with a sense of relief.

William stole a glance at Sylvia after leaving the doctor's office. She was cradling her belly gently, her expression radiant with the glowing joy unique to a first-time mother.

He sighed, a whisper barely audible escaping his lips. "Sylvia."

"William, I think... I can feel the baby's heartbeat." Sylvia's voice trembled with wonder, her eyes gleaming as they met his.

He paused, the weight of his next words pressing down on him. "Sylvia, you should consider terminating the pregnancy."

"No!" Her voice cracked, a visceral refusal. Tears instantly welled in her eyes as she implored him, "William, I want this baby. Please, let me keep it. Don't force me to give it up. I can raise this child by myself if I have to..."

"And you think you can make this decision to keep the child without my agreement?"

The cold, sharp voice of Renee sliced through their conversation. Both Sylvia and William turned to see her at the corner of the corridor, arms folded, her presence like a specter at a feast. Her stance and piercing gaze left no doubt about her stance—she was, after all, William's lawful wife, and her words carried the weight of her position.