Chapter 2

After that, for a long time, Derek and I settled into a tense peace.

The video was never mentioned again.

Derek would accompany me to my prenatal appointments.

He showered me with gifts.

He played the part of the doting husband to perfection, as if he were still the man who'd loved me madly.

But I knew, with a cold, sinking certainty, that everything had shifted.

It was there last night, when he suddenly caged me beneath him, his voice a low murmur against my skin.

"The doctor said it's safe... at four months."

Then his kisses came, thick and relentless.

I used to crave them. Now, all I could smell was the lingering, sickening scent of another woman on his skin. My stomach, which had finally settled, twisted violently.

I was so overwhelmed that I shoved him away, stumbling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom.

The violent sound of my retching echoed through the room.

Derek, who had followed me in, watched with a slight frown.

"The doctor said morning sickness stops after three months. Why are you still throwing up?"

My stomach was cramping, so I didn't answer him.

Derek instantly grew agitated. He paced impatiently in the bathroom, then grabbed his suit, his watch, barely bothering with his tie. He glanced at me, still retching, and muttered, "Got a contract to sign. Heading to the office."

Then, without a single word of comfort, or even asking if I was okay, he walked out.

Watching his retreating back, listening to the toilet flush, tears welled up and streamed down my face.

So, yes, something had definitely changed.

The old Derek would have been half-dead with worry if I even shed a single tear.

But now? His greatest act of affection was perhaps maintaining a sliver of decency, telling me he had a "contract to sign" before openly going to meet that other girl.