The Wife He Left to Die

Chapter 2

Violet stayed at the graveside until the last mourners drifted away and the cemetery staff began locking the gates. She remained there through the night, sitting on the cold ground with her back against the headstone, watching the stars wheel overhead in their slow, indifferent arc.

It was not until the next afternoon that Cedric finally appeared.

He walked slowly up the gravel path, his expensive shoes crunching with each reluctant step. When he saw Violet's deathly pale face and the small gravestone beside her, he seemed to freeze in place.

"Violet... you," he started.

Then he rushed forward and pulled her into a crushing embrace. His voice came out thick with concern, almost choking on the words. "We can have another baby. But if your health fails, what then? What would I do?"

Violet let out a bitter laugh that scraped her throat raw.

'Another baby?' Her voice trembled like a plucked string. "Cedric, do you have any idea how hard I fought to conceive that one? The doctors said I can never have children again. Never."

Cedric's expression darkened. He hung his head, muttering into the space between them. "I am sorry, Violet. I am so sorry."

"Why did you not answer my calls?" She pulled back and pointed at the gravestone, her voice raw and bleeding. "I waited for you. I begged for your help. Where were you?"

"I am sorry, Violet. There was an emergency at the company. A deal went sideways, and I had to handle it personally."

Violet cut him off with a sneer that twisted her pale features. "Was it really the company? Or was your darling student keeping you busy? Keeping you warm?"

With a dull thump, Cedric dropped to his knees before their child's grave. His voice shook as he spoke. "Violet, this is all my fault. I failed you. I failed our baby. I am so sorry."

Watching his display of remorse, Violet laughed until tears streaked her face and dripped off her chin. 'She should have seen it coming.'

The stack of unused movie tickets she had found in his coat pocket. The suspicious hotel bookings on his credit card statement. The roses meant for someone else that arrived at their house by mistake. Every sign had screamed that Cedric's heart had strayed.

Yet she had believed his lies. She had wanted so desperately to believe.

"Save your apologies," she said, her voice settling into icy calm. "Just get rid of her. Cut her off completely. I will pretend none of this happened, and we can move forward."

"No."

The word landed like a stone in still water.

'No?' Violet stared at him.

"Clara is just a naive college student. She is alone in this world, no family, no support. How could she survive if I just abandoned her? It would destroy her."

Violet smiled. It was not a nice smile.

"Fine."

Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone and called her property manager. "Empty Clara Bright's apartment. All of it. Put everything on the street. Change the locks."

"Have you lost your mind?" Cedric lunged forward and snatched the phone from her hand. He hissed orders into it, countermanding hers, then hung up and thrust the phone back at her.

"All she did was refuse to donate blood. Was that worth destroying her life? Was it?"

"She had every right to refuse."

The words cut deeper than any knife. That was not what he had said before. Before, Clara was supposed to be insurance, a backup, a failsafe. Now suddenly she had rights.

Cedric's voice turned dangerous, dropping low and quiet. "If you push this, do not blame me when your sister pays the price."

Violet went still.

"You would not want Celia's future destroyed, would you? She has worked so hard to build her career. It would be a shame if something happened to derail all that effort."

He was threatening her. He was using Celia to protect Clara.

In that moment, the man kneeling before her was a complete stranger. She did not recognize the cold eyes or the hard set of his jaw. The boy who had once taken bullets for her was gone.

"Enough, Violet. You need rest. You are hysterical, and you are not thinking clearly." He tried to guide her toward the car waiting at the cemetery gates.

She shook him off and thrust a thick document into his hands.

"What is this?" He frowned at the cover page.

Violet drew a shaky breath. "This is our..."

"Whatever it is, I will sign whatever you want if it calms you down. I cannot deal with this right now."

Without even glancing at the contents, he flipped to the last page and scribbled his name across the signature line. His familiar, flamboyant signature slashed across the divorce agreement like a wound.

The sight of it sent her spiraling back ten years. To the ninety-nine love letters Cedric had once written for her, each one folded carefully and slipped under her dormitory door. The final letter had held four awkward, earnest words scrawled in that same flamboyant hand.

'I like you.'

Tears pricked her eyes, hot and unwelcome.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I picked out some gifts for you. Look through it and see if there is anything you would like."

He dumped a massive list of luxury items in her lap. Handbags from Paris. Diamonds from Antwerp. Watches, shoes, coats—the whole display of wealth designed to distract and appease.

Violet could not care less about any of it.

But then her eyes caught on something at the very bottom of the list. Prenatal books. Vitamins. Maternity clothes. A glance at the order date confirmed what she already knew.

These were never for her.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, her phone buzzed in her hand. The screen lit up with a photo. An eight-week ultrasound, the tiny form little more than a bean-shaped blur on the grainy image.

Below it, a sickly sweet text message appeared.

'Oopsie. Wrong number. Silly me, I meant to text my darling Cedric.'

Her heart ripped to shreds. Then someone salted the open wound and twisted a knife in for good measure.

Clenching her jaw against the bile rising in her throat, Violet stared blankly at the screen. Eight weeks. That was right around the time he had stopped touching her, stopped coming to their bed, stopped pretending.

A hollow laugh escaped her lips.

Well.

That was one hell of a sendoff.