Chapter 2
1301 Words
The search-and-rescue crew moved quickly. Neither of them ended up dead.
Trisha regained consciousness not long afterward, but when I carried a container of hot soup back to the hospital room, she was nowhere to be found.
As I passed by the staff break room, I caught the faint sound of hushed voices drifting through the door.
"The whole plan is ruined!" a crew member hissed. "Brittany never jumped. We can't testify that she shoved Mr. Blackwell's head underwater so she could inherit his fortune..."
I held my breath. So this was the truth?
No wonder Thomas had spoken of me with nothing but hatred after my death in my previous life.
"Why are you panicking?" Trisha replied with a cold laugh. "The fact that she didn't jump only proves she doesn't love Thomas. I've got plenty of ways to make them divorce," she continued, leaning closer and lowering her voice. "Besides, I still have a trump card."
I couldn't make out the rest of what she said.
Their conversation was ending, and they were about to leave, so I quickly turned around and hurried back to Thomas' room before they could spot me.
Thomas was already awake.
His face was deathly pale.
He forced himself upright and grabbed my wrist before I could react.
"Why?" he demanded hoarsely. "Why didn't you jump in and save me?"
I gently pulled my hand free.
"I had a cold," I answered calmly. "It wasn't safe for me to go into the water."
He stared at me in disbelief before slowly releasing his grip.
"You..." His voice faltered. "You weren't like this before."
No. I wasn't.
In my previous life, I emptied my father's entire inheritance to help him rebuild his business. I even quit my job as an art acquisitions specialist, so I could focus on having a child.
In the end, I lost my life.
I couldn't even save our only son.
Right then, Trisha rushed into the room.
She threw herself into Thomas' arms and clung to him tightly.
"Thomas!" she cried. "You scared me to death!"
She buried her face against his chest and added dramatically, "Thank goodness I didn't hesitate. I jumped in right after you." As she spoke, she deliberately shot me a glance.
I merely smiled and pulled out my phone.
"Trisha," I said lightly, "that jump of yours didn't sound very enthusiastic from what I remember."
I pressed play.
The recording from the yacht deck filled the room.
"I have a cold. If you want to save him, then go save him yourself."
Trisha's sharp voice immediately followed. "He's your husband! What does he have to do with me?"
"Aren't you supposed to love him more than your own life?" I had asked. "If you can't save him, then dying together wouldn't be so bad, would it?"
A massive wave crashed over the deck.
Thomas nearly disappeared beneath the water.
Trisha's terrified voice trembled through the speaker.
"I don't want to die! I still have so many things I haven't done yet!"
Her frightened footsteps echoed through the recording as she stumbled backward.
Then came the splash of someone being pushed into the sea.
The recording ended abruptly.
Thomas' expression darkened instantly.
Trisha's cheeks flushed as she opened her mouth to defend herself.
Before she could speak, Thomas pointed toward the door. "Get out."
Tears immediately filled her eyes.
She rose from her chair and headed toward the exit.
Just then, her phone rang.
After answering the call, she returned moments later.
The fear on her face had completely disappeared.
A smug smile replaced it.
She held her phone out toward Thomas. "I could never understand why Mrs. Blackwell stood by and refused to save you," she said softly. "Not until I found this."
It was a paternity test report.
The names listed were Thomas Blackwell and Liam Blackwell.
The final conclusion was clear.
No biological relationship.
Thomas' hands began to shake.
When he looked up, his eyes were bloodshot.
He hurled the phone toward me. "Explain this."
I didn't even bother catching it.
Trisha immediately seized the opportunity.
"Looks like Mrs. Blackwell wanted Thomas dead, so her bastard child could inherit the Blackwell fortune." She tilted her head and added maliciously, "Then you could run off with your lover and enjoy the money together, couldn't you?"
I didn't respond.
Thomas suddenly tore out his IV line and jumped to his feet.
Grabbing my arm, he dragged me toward the door.
"Come with me," he demanded. "We're doing another test. We'll find out whether this report is real or fake."
The color drained from Trisha's face.
Her nervousness was impossible to hide.
I pulled my arm free. "No."
Thomas' voice sharpened. "If you've got nothing to hide, what are you afraid of?"
I pointed toward Trisha's stomach. "If the new test proves I'm innocent, then she terminates this pregnancy."
The room fell silent.
I looked directly at him. "Do you dare make that bet?"
Thomas froze.
In my previous life, I never knew Trisha was pregnant.
Until the day I died, I had convinced myself that Thomas' affair was only temporary.
I foolishly believed that if I humbled myself enough, he would eventually come back to me.
"About two months along, right?" I asked with a faint smile, letting my gaze drift to Trisha's abdomen. "That's about how far along I was when I was carrying Liam."
Trisha immediately covered her stomach and hid behind Thomas.
"Brittany, what are you trying to do?" she cried. "The baby is innocent!"
"Relax." I smiled faintly. "I'm not doing anything."
Then I added, "I was simply reminding you that women in early pregnancy should take vitamins to help with morning sickness. If you need a nutritionist, I'd be happy to recommend one."
My calm generosity clearly caught them both off guard.
Thomas frowned. "You're not angry?"
His eyes searched mine. "Not jealous?"
I shook my head. "She is carrying a child from the Blackwell family. Why would I be jealous?"
The color drained from his face.
"Or..." he began, struggling to speak. His breathing grew uneven. "Or your heart isn't with me anymore?"
I didn't answer. Instead, he became even more agitated.
"Liam is four years old," he snapped. "That means you've been seeing your lover for four years, haven't you? While I was working myself to death trying to rebuild everything!"
I met his gaze calmly.
I still said nothing.
The truth was obvious.
If I truly had another man, I would have left long ago.
Why would I have sacrificed my father's entire inheritance for him?
Why would I have risked everything to help him succeed?
The problem wasn't the evidence.
The problem was that Thomas simply didn't believe me.
Just then, my phone vibrated.
A reply had arrived.
It was from that contact.
Jordan: Theo Reed is in critical condition. The value of his final works may soon double.
I closed my eyes briefly.
My thoughts drifted to the twelve paintings I had left with Thomas as part of my engagement gift in my previous life.
Slowly, I pulled a still-warm document from my bag.
Then I pressed it against his chest.
"Let's get divorced."
- Writer
