Chapter 4
Trevor floored it all the way back to the villa. He pushed open the door and was met with nothing but dead silence.
Normally, around this time, Anya would be in the kitchen with her apron on, busy cooking. She'd look up with that gentle smile and ask, "Long day?"
But now, the kitchen was cold, and she wasn't in the living room, either.
That annoying trash bag by the front door was already gone, taken care of by the building staff.
Trevor burst into the bedroom and flung open the closet doors. Anya's side was totally bare, with not even a hair tie left behind.
"Anya, how dare you?" Trevor shouted, his voice bouncing off the empty walls.
He refused to believe Anya was really gone. Anya loved him to her core. There was no way she'd leave like that.
She had to be sulking somewhere, waiting for him to find her and make it up to her.
He wandered the house frantically, hoping to find any trace that she was still around.
It wasn't until his gaze fell on the wastebasket in the corner of the bedroom. Inside, there was a single crumpled ball of paper.
Before he knew it, Trevor walked over, picked it up, and unfolded it. It was an ultrasound report. The date on it jumped out at him. It was from yesterday.
And in the diagnosis section, the words slammed into him: [Irregular dark area in the uterus, no fetal heartbeat. Miscarriage confirmed.]
Trevor's hand shook violently, the thin paper suddenly feeling like it weighed a ton.
'A miscarriage?' he thought, his mind reeling. 'Yesterday? While I was out with Celeste, looking for her damn dog?'
"No way, this can't be real," Trevor muttered, his face draining of all color.
He remembered how Anya had gripped his hand tightly yesterday, sweat streaming down her face as she pleaded for help.
He remembered the blood running down her legs. He remembered how he'd warned her to stop making a scene over the phone.
A tidal wave of panic crashed over him, threatening to drown him.
Trevor tore out of the villa, barely thinking, and jumped in his car, racing straight to a luxury hotel downtown. It was the address Victor had left him.
When he reached the hotel room door, Trevor didn't hesitate for a second. He started banging on it, wild and relentless. "Anya, come out. Tell me what's going on."
The door swung open. But it wasn't Anya. It was a tall, striking guy.
The guy was in a bathrobe, hair still wet, and shot Trevor a cold, hard stare. "Who're you here for?"
Something in Trevor snapped. A man and a woman were alone in a hotel, and the man was in nothing but a bathrobe.
Celeste's words echoed in Trevor's mind. "Does Anya have an affair?"
Jealousy and rage burned through Trevor, wiping out any trace of reason. He practically shoved the guy out of his way and stormed into the room.
Anya was sitting on the couch, drinking soup, her face as pale as a sheet. But when she saw him, her eyes went ice-cold, like he was nothing but a stranger.
"So it's true. You really are cheating on me." Trevor jabbed a finger at the guy, his eyes bloodshot with rage, his voice shaking. "Did you get rid of our baby for this guy? Was it all on purpose?"
Anya set her cup down and rose to her feet, calm and deliberate.
She looked at Trevor, who was losing his mind right in front of her, and thought it was beyond absurd. "Trevor, is your brain completely full of crap?"
*****
The guy, who was actually my brother, started to step forward, but I raised my hand to stop him.
I walked right up to Trevor slowly.
He was still yelling, "Did I hit a nerve? Feeling guilty now? Anya, how could you be so shameless?"
The slap was so loud that it echoed through the room as I struck Trevor hard across the face.
The world went silent.
Trevor's head whipped to the side, and he covered his cheek, staring at me in total shock.
I rubbed my numb palm, my gaze sharp as a blade, and spoke slowly and clearly. "Trevor, this slap was for my child who died. I didn't abandon our baby. You killed it with your own hands.
"While you were busy running around for Celeste and her dog, our baby became nothing but a puddle of blood."
I stepped right up to him, watching his eyes go wide with shock. My voice was gentle, but every word cut deep. "You killed our child. What right do you have to even bring it up?"