Framed for My Husband's Love

Chapter 2

"Sweetheart!" Silas's face went ghostly pale. He swept me up like a ragdoll, his voice cracking with manufactured terror. "Hold on. I am getting you to the hospital!"

His bloodshot eyes and trembling hands almost convinced me, until I remembered his Oscar-worthy performances every time I had miscarried. How I had played the fool, soothing him while my own heart bled. What a blind, love-struck fool I had been.

Despite his frantic rush, the baby was gone again. As I drifted in the hospital bed, I caught his whispered lies through the thin door.

"I am sorry, Chloe. It is my fault for not watching your sister-in-law closely enough. Her miscarriage came too soon, but I promise I will have her pregnant again quickly, so your treatment will not be delayed."

His voice oozed honeyed tenderness, thick with an affection he had never shown me in seven years of marriage.

Chloe's sugary, girlish voice chirped back through the phone:

"Alright, Silas. I will give you one last chance. But you had better not disappoint me this time."

When he returned to the hospital room, his eyes softened at my pale face. He pulled me into his arms, and his voice dripped with what sounded like guilt.

"Darling, I am sorry you have suffered. From now on, I will treat you even better, no more pain."

As he leaned in to kiss me, I turned away and swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat.

"I am exhausted. I need to sleep."

Rolling onto my side, I shut him out, unable to stomach his hollow comfort. I did not see the flicker in his eyes as he settled into the bedside chair, keeping silent watch.

Late that night, the steady rhythm of his breathing told me he had finally succumbed. Peering over my shoulder, I found him collapsed against the mattress, exhaustion claiming him at last.

A faint smile curled his lips, dreaming of her, no doubt. Then, soft as a secret, he murmured:

"Chloe. I will never leave you."

The words pierced me, sharp and cold. My gaze fell to his phone beside him.

For seven years, I had never questioned him. I never touched his things. I never doubted.

Yet now my trembling fingers punched in code after code, each one wrong. Even her birthday failed.

Then it hit me. The numbers flashed in my mind. I typed them in.

The screen unlocked to reveal the date he had first met Chloe.

She was not even his real sister. She was just a pity project his parents had adopted when she was ten, a playmate for their lonely son.

But he had doted on her like she was his own. No, worse. He doted on her like she was his everything.

Burying the storm of emotions inside me, I scrolled through Silas's phone and discovered his secret Twitter account. Every inch of it was packed with posts about Chloe.

Silas: [Chloe called me 'Silas' for the first time. Her voice was so tiny and sweet that I just wanted to kiss her.]

Silas: [She is growing more stunning every day. Half the boys at school are crushing on her. I am so jealous. Chloe is mine, and no one else's.]

Silas: [Chloe agreed to be mine. We cannot go public, but having her is enough.]

Silas: [To secure Chloe's happiness, I will marry Leila Blake. I do not love her, but her umbilical cord blood can save Chloe. Saving Chloe is her privilege.]

Silas: [Leila's health is wrecked from all the miscarriages. I almost feel bad, but Chloe is the love of my life. Throwing one woman under the bus for her is nothing.]

His posts traced their twisted bond from day one. Even in those short, offhand updates, his obsession blazed through.

Then I uncovered his purchase history.

Fifteen years ago, he bought a pair of limited-edition couple's necklaces by GY's lead designer, priced at sixty million. One for him and one for Chloe. She wore hers like a crown, making headlines worldwide, while I was shoved into prison, still raw from losing my father and drowning in darkness.

Thirteen years ago, he bought her a private island. While she basked on pristine beaches, I was getting pummeled by inmates, left bleeding and bedridden for weeks.

Ten years ago, there was nothing worth noting. But six years ago, he built her an entire hospital, recruiting the city's top doctors just to keep her alive.

Meanwhile, I was lying on a grimy operating table, losing my first child.

Every loss after that was treated like trash. Yet I still hated myself for failing to give him a baby.

My heart was being shredded to pieces, each beat sending waves of agony through my chest. Tears gushed down my face like a burst dam, burning my skin as they fell, each drop a blistering reminder of his betrayal.

Clenching my jaw against the pain, I pulled out my phone and contacted a lawyer. I instructed him to draft two copies of divorce papers. Then I arranged for a fake death arrangement, my last desperate bid for freedom.

I spent a week in the hospital, slowly regaining my strength. Throughout those days, Silas never left my side, doting on me with such devotion that the nurses sighed in envy. To them, I was a prized jewel, too delicate to touch and too precious to lose.

But all I tasted was the bitter irony of it all. Who knew someone could act the part so flawlessly, all for someone else's sake?

When the doctor finally cleared me for discharge, Silas reacted with more excitement than I did. The second we stepped inside, he scooped me up and whisked me straight to the bedroom, depositing me on the bed with theatrical gentleness.

Before I could blink, his body pinned me down, and his lips seared hot kisses along my skin. His breath was ragged as he whispered.

"I love you, Leila. I will always love you."