03
After two surgeries, I remained under observation in the ICU.
During this time, Sean was conspicuously absent.
His indifference was glaring. He didn’t care whether the baby I had fought so hard to protect was alive or gone.
When my phone began to buzz incessantly, I held onto a shred of hope, thinking perhaps Sean was finally reaching out to comfort me.
But when I opened the messages, I froze.
[Trish, you know Judy just got back to the country and doesn’t have a place to stay, and she’s afraid of tiny and dark places. Since our bedroom gets the best sunlight, I let her stay there. She can wear your makeup and your clothes, too. It’s no big deal.]
A bitter sense churned in my chest. Why? Why was Judy, of all people, staying in my bedroom, sleeping in my bed, using my things?
I sent a single reply.
[No way]
Sean’s response was immediate.
He called me, his voice sharp and full of reprimand.
“Trish, why are you being so petty? It’s just some clothes. Honestly, with your attitude, no wonder you got caught in that fire. You deserved it.”
I sat in stunned silence, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth.
11:03 AM
He actually blamed me. He said I deserved to be injured, deserved to lose our baby.
A bitter smile showed on my face as tears blurred my vision.
“Sean, do you even remember the vows you made when we got married?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Sean’s impatience was evident. Of course, he didn’t remember. He had never loved me.
Marrying me was merely part of his plan to secure my family’s wealth.
But with his goal not yet achieved, he quickly softened his tone, feigning care.
“Trish, focus on recovering. The baby is gone. There’s no use dwelling on it. Don’t upset yourself further.”
The call ended, and the tears I’d been holding back slipped quietly down my face.
Don’t upset yourself? Sean had never cared about the baby, not from the very beginning.
Even my pregnancy was an accident.
Sean hadn’t shown even a shred of interest throughout the entire ordeal.
At every checkup, I went alone, even though Sean worked at the same hospital. He had never once come to see me.
I tried to resist the urge to check the surveillance feed from home, knowing I wouldn’t like what I’d see.
But that voice in my head wouldn’t let me rest until I unlocked my phone.
Judy was living in my house, sleeping in my bed, and wearing my clothes.
Now, she brazenly flaunted her relationship with Sean.
As I watched the footage, my nails dug into my palms, leaving crescents in my skin.
There she was, lounging on my bed in one of my dresses, her bare legs draped over Sean’s lap.
Knowing full well that the house had cameras, Judy kissed Sean right in front of me.
Sean didn’t pull away. Instead, he gazed at her with unmistakable affection.
My chest tightened as I saw Judy rummaging through the house, pulling out all the things I had carefully tucked away.
Love letters I had written, sweet nothings I had once whispered…
She laid them all out, reading each one mockingly.
After every sentence, she sneered.
“Sean, you were right. Trish really is a pathetic simp. Look how obsessed she was with you. And her handwriting is awful. These letters are so disgustingly corny. I’m about to gag.”
Sean didn’t even flinch. He casually picked up one of the letters and set it on fire.
The ashes floated through the house, staining the space I had worked so hard to make perfect.
Judy, emboldened, tore up the rest of my letters and shoved them in front of the camera.
“I’m living here now,” she said with a smirk. “These things are just taking up space. They should all be thrown out.”
Suddenly, a cat’s meow echoed through the room, and Judy’s expression changed instantly.
A wave of panic gripped me. I remembered Sean once mentioning that Judy despised cats.
And that meow belonged to Kiwi, the cat I had raised since childhood.
She was my family, the only thing my late parents had left me.
I wouldn’t allow anyone to harm her.
On the screen, Judy’s gaze zeroed in on Kiwi, and my heart leaped into my throat.
