Chapter 1
Valerie Sutton reclined on the sofa in a silk slip, holding a little boy who looked about 5 or 6. He was the spitting image of Derek.
"Mom, Dad said he was getting me ice cream. Why isn't he back yet?" the boy asked with a pout.
Valerie ran a finger over his nose and said gently, "Your dad spoils you rotten. He's probably waiting in line downstairs to get it for you."
My blood ran cold. My hands and feet felt as though I'd plunged into ice water.
With shaking hands, I took out my phone and opened my chat with Derek.
Monica: Honey, is your international conference over? I miss you.
My message went unanswered.
After 5 minutes, the elevator chimed softly.
Derek stepped out in casual loungewear, carrying a fancy bag of ice cream, and strode toward the partly open door.
He stopped at the suite. As he pushed the door open, Valerie and the child rushed into his arms.
"Dad!"
Derek scooped his 6-year-old son up with one arm with practiced ease and slipped the other around Valerie's waist as though it were second nature. He leaned down and kissed her deeply. "Baby, I waited in line forever to get this. How are you going to reward me tonight, hmm?"
The door slammed shut, locking me out as the family of three laughed inside.
I stood outside like a complete fool, still holding the seafood chowder that had long since gone cold.
My stomach churned, and a dull, dragging ache settled low in my abdomen.
I bit my lower lip hard to keep from making a sound.
Memories of the past 6 years raced through my mind.
Whenever I had period cramps, Derek would turn down contracts worth tens of millions of dollars and stay up all night with his hands on my belly to keep it warm.
After I broke a bone in a car accident 3 years earlier, he'd stood beside my hospital bed with red-rimmed eyes and sworn that if anything happened to me, he wouldn't go on living without me.
Then there was the second year of our marriage. When I went for a checkup because I still hadn't gotten pregnant, Derek produced vasectomy paperwork.
"Honey, I had the procedure without telling you. Childbirth hurts too much, and even a one-in-10,000 chance of losing you is a risk I can't take. We only need each other for the rest of our lives."
I'd clung to him and sobbed, convinced I was the happiest woman in the world.
It wasn't that he didn't want children. He just didn't want any with me.
Our seemingly perfect marriage had lasted 6 years. Every single day had been a carefully constructed lie.
That so-called accidental miscarriage had been a scam he'd staged to protect his reputation.
He'd used his vasectomy to make sure I could never have his child, while building a complete, happy family with another woman.
My phone vibrated. Derek had finally replied.
Derek: Honey, the conference just ended. I'm exhausted. I'm heading back to my room for a shower, and I still have some files to read tonight. Be good and don't skip your meals. I'll be home the day after tomorrow to make up for missing our anniversary. Love you.
Seeing the words "Love you" on the screen made me feel sick.
I didn't reply. I turned and walked straight toward the elevator.
I didn't cry. Hatred burned in my chest instead.
'You love putting on a show, Derek. Then let's see this last performance through to the end.'
