Chapter 2
1495 Words
Quinley’s POV
The hospital smelled of bleach and something colder—like loneliness preserved in sterile air. I sat in the backseat of the cab, knees drawn together, arms wrapped around my stomach as another dull cramp echoed through me. My body was still sore from last night’s betrayal, both physical and emotional. I hadn’t slept. Couldn’t. Not when the bed felt too wide and the silence too loud.
Nikolai hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Nothing.
Happy third anniversary, Quinley.
I forced myself through the hospital doors, fingers trembling as I handed my details to the receptionist. “I need to see Dr. Helman,” I said, voice thin. “Emergency consult. My file is under Lancaster.”
She nodded politely, asked me to wait.
As I sank into the cushioned bench, the weight of everything threatened to crush me—my hollow womb, my empty marriage, my breaking heart.
Fifteen minutes later, I was led through white halls, past curtained beds and quiet monitors. My doctor’s office was at the end of the corridor, second door on the right. But as I neared it, I heard something. A laugh. Familiar. Then a low voice. Nikolai's voice.
My feet slowed.
“No one's going to walk in,” he was saying, voice rich with something I hadn’t heard in months—affection. Playfulness. “Just ten more minutes. Then I’ll leave.”
“Nikolai,” a woman’s voice whispered—flirty, breathy, smug.
Cassidy.
My stomach dropped. The pain I had felt last night returned with a vengeance—but this time, it was fury.
I stepped closer, heart hammering, and pushed the door open without knocking.
They were in each other’s arms—Cassidy perched on the edge of the hospital bed, Nikolai between her legs, his hand up her blouse, her fingers tangled in his hair. Her lipstick was smudged. His tie, undone.
They both froze when they saw me.
My world tilted.
“Quinley?” he stammered, stepping back like he’d been caught with blood on his hands. “What are you—what are you doing here?”
I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. I just stared at him, then at Cassidy, then back at the man I once believed would never humiliate me like this.
“This is why you didn’t come home last night?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care. “This is why you missed our anniversary?”
He looked away. Coward.
“Quinley,” he began, adjusting his shirt, “I was going to tell you. About her.”
“Oh, now you want to talk?” I laughed bitterly, arms folded across my trembling body. “After you left me sitting alone in candlelight, bleeding into a dress I wore for you?”
He stepped forward, hands up like he was trying to calm a wildfire. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Really?” I hissed. “Because it looks like you’re screwing your lingerie model in a hospital room while I’m here to get pain meds for a womb that still thinks you give a damn.”
Cassidy smirked but said nothing. The venom in her silence burned more than words ever could.
“She’s the surrogate,” Nikolai blurted.
Silence. My heart stopped.
“What?”
He looked at me, almost pleading. “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you. I spoke to a specialist. Cassidy agreed to carry our child. I didn’t tell you sooner because I knew you wouldn’t be on board.”
“Damn right I wouldn’t!” I barked, disbelief twisting into rage. “You want a surrogate? Fine. But her? The woman you show up for at every shoot? The one you look at like you used to look at me? The one I’ve told you, time and again, makes me feel small and unwanted?”
His jaw tensed. “Quinley, I’m doing this for us—”
“No,” I snapped. “You’re doing this for you. For your image. For convenience. For a chance to keep screwing her while calling it sacrifice.”
Cassidy finally stood, her smugness barely contained. “Maybe it’s for the best. You’ve been trying for years and—”
“Shut up!” I shouted, voice raw. “You don’t get to speak. You don’t get to stand there in my pain and pretend you're part of this marriage.”
Nikolai moved to touch me, but I flinched. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Don't you dare touch me.”
He looked as if he wanted to explain, to fix what he’d shattered—but it was too late.
“Do you know what last night was like for me?” I asked, voice shaking. “I bled. I screamed. I fell to the floor, clutching my stomach and praying the pain would stop—and all the while, I still hoped you’d walk through that door.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I didn’t bother wiping it. Let him see it. Let him choke on the guilt he refused to feel.
“But you didn’t come. You never came.”
Nikolai looked down, guilt flickering—but guilt wasn’t enough.
“I was alone,” I said softly. “Again.”
He opened his mouth, but I turned.
“No more explanations,” I said. “You made your choice. And now I’ll make mine.”
I stormed out of the room, Cassidy’s perfume choking me as I passed. The corridor spun, but I kept moving. I didn’t stop until I was outside in the cold, my breaths shallow, my chest hollow.
I leaned against the wall and let the wind sting my skin.
Behind me, the door to room 107 opened. I didn’t turn, but I heard footsteps.
Cassidy followed him.
“Quinley,” Nikolai’s voice came again, softer this time. “Please. Just listen.”
I turned slowly, eyes burning.
And then I slapped him.
His head snapped to the side, shock freezing him in place.
“Next time you decide to cheat,” I said through clenched teeth, “don’t hide it behind the word ‘surrogate.’”
He stared at me, stunned.
I stepped back, heart thudding in my ears.
Quinley,” Nikolai said, stepping forward, hands raised like I was some wild animal. “I can explain—”
“You better.” My voice was low, trembling with fury. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you brought your half-naked mistress into a hospital room while your wife is down the hallway, barely holding herself together.”
“It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “She’s the surrogate.just believe me Quinley”
I laughed. A bitter, broken sound. “What?”
“I made the decision last month,” he continued, trying to sound composed. “You were in so much pain, Quinley. You were suffering. I thought this was the best way to give us what we’ve always wanted.”
“So you picked her?” I spat. “The one person I told you I couldn’t stand? The model you’ve been drooling over during every shoot? The woman who flaunts her body in your face and looks at me like I’m the charity case?”
“If you wanted a surrogate, Nikolai, we should’ve decided that together. You don’t get to cheat on me and hide behind the excuse of a baby.”
“I didn’t cheat!” he snapped, his calm cracking. “This isn’t about s*x, it’s about—about family. About finally giving you a child. You said it yourself, your body—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I warned, my voice like ice. “Don’t you dare blame my broken body for your betrayal.”
He stepped back, as if struck.
I turned to Cassidy. “You think you’ve won something, wearing that cheap lace and parading as the savior of my marriage. You’re just a pawn in his game. And he’ll discard you the moment the cameras turn off.”
“I’m carrying his child,” she whispered smugly.
A silence dropped between us.
I stared at Nikolai. “Is she?”
He looked away.
That was all I needed.
The pain in my abdomen bloomed again, more brutal this time, but I straightened my spine and walked out, not letting them see me falter.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream.
I just walked.
Down the hallway. Past the nurses who barely glanced at me. Out into the gray, overcast morning.
But as I reached the hospital exit, the pain surged—blinding, paralyzing.
I clutched my stomach and collapsed against the wall, gasping.
A nurse nearby rushed over. “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you okay?”
I shook my head. “Call a doctor. Please.”
Before I passed out, the last thing I heard was the sound of someone calling for a stretcher.
- Writer
