Chapter 4

The room was deadly quiet, save for the low hum of the air conditioner. Watching him kneel there, a wave of nausea rose in me—not from the pregnancy, but something far deeper, clawing its way up from my bones.

I stood, walked into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the faucet.

In the mirror, I saw myself in my wedding gown, hair pinned up, my bridal makeup still intact. My lipstick was smudged, my eyeliner a little messy, but a pretty face still stared back.

The longer I looked, the more I felt like I was seeing a…