He Let Me Die, Then Knelt for My Love

I was lying alone on the freezing surgical table, waiting for the post-miscarriage procedure, when I scrolled past a trending post on a local online forum.

The title read: If you marry the boy who only has eyes for you, how cute will your babies be?

The poster had recorded every little thing with giddy devotion: how the boy drove across the entire city at midnight just to buy her sour plum juice.

Even the wallpaper color for the future nursery had sparked a lively debate in the comments.

Every line brimmed with sweet, breathless hope for a family of three.

Then I saw the IP address and the username, and my eyes burned.

It was me. Seven years ago.

Seven years later, the man who had promised to make me the happiest mother in the world was downstairs in obstetrics with his first love, there for her pregnancy support treatment.

And methreatened miscarriage from long-term depression, thirteen desperate calls to him, every single one declined.

I signed the consent form for the procedure with steady hands and left a reply under my own old post.

Don't have the baby. In the end, you'll be the one dying on the table.

What are you crying about? You're worse than a hen that can't lay eggs, sitting in the seat of Mrs. Farley for nothing!

Rachel Farley's shrill voice echoed down the empty corridor.

The procedure had just ended. My legs felt like dead weight, and I had to brace myself against the wall to stay upright.

Wallace Farley was standing right behind her.

He wore a tailored suit, brow drawn tight, and the look he gave me was nothing but impatience.

Jacqueline, stop acting half-dead. Addie's still upstairs getting pregnancy support treatment. Do you really have to jinx things right now?

I stared at the man in front of me, feeling nothing.

Seven years ago, I'd nicked my finger slicing vegetables, and his eyes went red with worry. He ran out that same night just to buy me ointment.

Now, a piece of me had just been torn from my body.

He thought I was bad luck.

I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat. My voice came out scraped raw. I called you thirteen times.

Addie was throwing up nonstop. You think I had time for your nonsense calls? Wallace scoffed. Besides, it was just a threatened miscarriage. Not like you were going to die.

Just a threatened miscarriage.

I looked down at the ultrasound printout crumpled in my fist.

There had been a tiny dark spot on it once. Our baby. The one we'd been waiting for.

Wallace, please don't blame Jacqueline. It's all my fault

A sugary, pitiful voice floated over.

Adeline Henson appeared in an oversized maternity dress, a nurse supporting her by the arm.

Her cheeks were glowing. She didn't look the slightest bit sick.

Rachel's face transformed instantly, all warmth and fuss, as she hurried over to take Adeline's other arm. Oh, my precious grandchild! Why did you come downstairs?

Adeline walked up to me. Her gaze dropped to the ultrasound in my hand, and something vicious flickered behind her eyes.

Then her ankle buckled, and she pitched straight toward me.

I stepped back on instinct.

Ah! Adeline cried out, though she'd barely grazed her knee against the floor.

But Wallace rushed at me like he'd lost his mind and shoved me hard out of the way.

My back cracked against the cold wall, and a tearing pain ripped through my abdomen where they'd just operated.

Have you lost your mind, Jacqueline?! Addie is carrying my flesh and blood! Wallace roared, eyes bloodshot.

I curled up on the floor, cold sweat soaking through my hospital gown.

Adeline leaned into Wallace's arms. The moment his attention was elsewhere, the stiletto heel of her shoe came down hard on my fallen ultrasound.

And she ground itthat slip of paper that held my child's lifeinto the floor.

The paper tore apart, and with it, the last scrap of hope I had left.

Wallace, my stomach hurts so much Adeline's eyes brimmed with tears, her voice pitiful and thin.

Wallace scooped her up without a second's hesitation, didn't so much as glance at me, and strode toward the elevator.

Rachel spat at me as she passed.

Can't even keep a bastard alive. Useless. Sign the divorce papers tomorrowstop squatting on a seat you've got no right to!

I lay flat on the cold tile floor, watching the three of them walk away together.

My phone screen was still lit, still showing that post on the online forum.

Seven years ago, I'd been in the comments, giddy, typing backHe said today that our baby will be called Farley Nian-Wrenhe picked a name that holds mine inside it. He said he'd give the whole world's best to the two of us, me and our child.

I closed my eyes and let the tears fall onto the screen.

Wallace, your "everything" belongs to someone else now.

A nurse helped me back to my room.

This was a private hospital. Mine was the most ordinary single room.

Upstairs, Wallace had booked out an entire floor of top-tier VIP suites.

All so Adeline could have peace and quiet for her pregnancy support treatment.

The IV fluid ran cold into my veins, and I couldn't stop shaking.

Someone kicked the door open.

Rachel walked in flanked by two bodyguards, her face murderous.

Throw all her things out! She jabbed a finger at my bed.

I struggled uprightWhat are you doing?

What am I doing? Addie doesn't like the way the rooms face upstairs. She wants this one. Rachel's smile was ice. A cursed thing who just miscarriedyou think you deserve a room this nice?

I bit down hard on my lipI paid for this room myself!

You paid? With what money that wasn't ours? Rachel stepped closer and swung her hand up.

Crack!

The slap landed full across my face.

My ears rang. I tasted blood at the corner of my mouth.

One of the bodyguards ripped the IV needle from the back of my hand. Blood welled up instantly.

They dragged me off the bed like a dead dog and dumped me in the hallway.

The little baby clothes and bottle I'd just bought, the ones I'd chosen to welcome my child, lay scattered on the floor, covered in dust.

Adeline walked over slowly, leaning on Wallace's arm, in no hurry at all.

She looked at me on the ground, pressed a hand to her mouth, and let out a pretty laughOh my, Jacqueline, why are you sitting on the floor? It must be so cold down there.

Wallace's gaze caught on my bleeding hand. His brow tightened, barely enough to notice.

But the coldness came right backIf Addie wants this room, move to a standard ward.

Wallace, I just had a post-miscarriage procedure. I stared at him, my voice barely there, ready to break apart at a breath.

So what? Not a trace of warmth in his tone. Addie is pregnant right now. She can't be upset. You're Mrs. Farleygiving way to her is the least you can do.

Giving way to her.

Seven years ago, a roommate said one unkind word about me, and Wallace charged downstairs to my dormitory lobby with a megaphone and cursed the girl out for half an hour.

He'd said his Jacquelineno one was allowed to bully her.

Now he was the one crushing me underfoot, clearing the path for his first love.

Adeline walked over to me and pretended to bend down for the little clothes on the floor.

Jacqueline, these are so cute. Too bad you won't be needing them anymore. Why don't you give them to me? They'd be perfect for

Before she could finish, her fingers loosened.

The white baby outfit slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.

Adeline screamed and let herself topple backward.

Wallace caught her with sharp reflexes, his expression turning black.

Jacqueline! You actually pushed her!

I hadn't so much as touched her with a finger.

But I was past the point of explaining.

Yeah, I pushed her. I twisted my mouth into something uglier than crying. And I didn't just want to push herI wanted to kill her.

Something vicious flashed through Wallace's eyes.

He closed the distance, seized my collar, and hauled me off the ground.

Touch one hair on Addie's head again, and I'll make you wish you were dead.

He flung me aside.

I slammed down beside the hallway trash can, my forehead catching its sharp metal edge, and blood ran into my eyes.

Through the blur I saw Adeline leaning into Wallace's arms, smiling at me in triumph.

The phone in my pocket buzzed.

My hands were shaking as I pulled it out.

A new reply on the forum post.

The "me" from seven years ago had sent a direct messageWhat's wrong with you? Why would you say I'll die on the operating table? Wallace is so good to me. Are you sure you have the right person?

Who are you?

Staring at those naive, bewildered words on the screen, I felt my chest seize so hard I couldn't breathe.

The right person?

I'd asked myself that same question countless times.

Was the cruel, brutal man standing before me really the same boy who once ran through three blocks of pouring rain just to buy me a strawberry cake?

My fingers trembled as I typed out a reply.

Him being good to you now doesn't mean he'll stay that way. He'll cheat. He'll throw you away for another woman. You won't even get to keep your child.

I hit send, shoved the phone back into my pocket, and closed my eyes.

A nurse who couldn't stand watching any longer snuck me into a makeshift room converted from a storage closet.

No heat. Just a hard iron-frame cot.

I curled up on it and spent the first night after losing my child.

The next morning, Wallace's assistant pushed open the door.

He tossed a document at me, tone strictly businessMrs. Farley, Mr. Farley wants you to sign this agreement.

I picked it up. Screenplay Copyright Transfer Agreement.

That screenplay was Spring Banquet, the one I'd spent three full years writing, burning through countless sleepless nights.

It was the only proof I had that I was more than a caged bird living off Wallace Farley.

What is he trying to do? My grip on the papers tightened.

Miss Henson's about to make her comeback. Mr. Farley plans to use this film to get her a Best Actress award. The assistant's face betrayed nothing. Mr. Farley says that as long as you sign, he'll consider not pursuing the matter of you pushing Miss Henson yesterday.

I laughed. The kind of laugh that comes when fury burns past its limit.

He wanted to take my life's work and hand it to the woman who cost me my child?

I threw the blanket off, didn't even stop for shoes, and ran barefoot to the VIP suite on the top floor.

The door was open.

Adeline sat on the sofa, holding the first draft of my screenplay.

Wallace was half-kneeling in front of her, gently massaging her swollen calves.

This script is so good, Wallace do you really think I could play the lead? Adeline cooed, voice dripping sweetness.

Of course. It was made for you. His eyes were soft with indulgence.

I rushed in and snatched the script from Adeline's hands.

This is mine! Who gave you permission to touch it!

Adeline flinched and shrank back into Wallace's arms.

He rose, his face going cold in an instantJacqueline, what the hell is wrong with you now?

Wallace, you want money, I'll give you money. You want me to step aside for her, fine, I already have. But this screenplay is my life! What gives you the right to take it! I screamed, tears spilling down my face before I could stop them.

Your life? Wallace scoffed. Jacqueline, have you forgotten? Every single thing you've eaten, worn, and used for the past three years came from me. Even the computer you wrote your scripts on, I paid for that.

Besides, Addie needs this script more than you do.

He looked down at me like I was a beggar throwing a tantrum over nothing.

Adeline peeked out from behind him, a vicious smile spreading across her face.

She reached for the cup of freshly brewed hot coffee on the table, and her hand slipped.

Scalding coffee splashed across the back of my hand.

Ah! I screamed and the script fell from my fingers.

Adeline gaspedOh no, Jacqueline, I didn't mean to! I was only trying to pour you a cup of coffee.

Wallace didn't even glance at my scalded, blistering hand.

He shoved me aside and grabbed Adeline's hands, turning them over and overDid it burn you? How could you be so careless?

Watching the two of them fawning over each other, I felt sick.

Adeline glanced down at the script on the floor and pressed the pointed toe of her heel into the cover.

Oh no, the script got dirty. She blinked, all innocence. Jacqueline, why don't you wipe it clean for me? Once it's clean, I'll give it back.

She wasn't even trying to hide it. This was humiliation, plain and open.

I stared at the smug triumph on Adeline's face, then looked at Wallace standing there, unmoved.

The blisters on the back of my hand had already burst, the pain piercing and raw.

But I laughed.

I crouched down slowly and reached out, not to wipe the script clean, but to grip it by the edge.

Riiip!

I tore the script in half. Three years of my life, ripped down the middle.

What are you doing! Wallace's voice cracked like a whip.

I didn't stop. I shredded it to pieces, then flung the scraps into the air.

Paper fragments drifted down over both of them like snow.

If it's dirty, then no one gets it. I dusted off my hands and stood. My voice was so calm it frightened even me.

No more hysteria. No more begging through tears.

Because I finally understood: a heart that's already dead can't feel pain.

Wallace stared at the shredded paper covering the floor, and something like panic flickered through his eyes.

He was used to me making scenes like a resentful wife. He'd never seen thisthis dead stillness in my gaze.

Jacqueline, don't forget who you owe everything to. He ground the words out through clenched teeth.

I'll sign the divorce papers. I'll have a lawyer send them over tomorrow. I turned and walked out without sparing him another look.

Adeline watched me go, something venomous flashing behind her eyes.

That afternoon, I received a text from Adeline.

If you want your mother's jade bracelet back, come to the hospital rooftop.

That jade bracelet was the only thing my mother left me. A few days ago, Rachel had taken it by force, claiming Adeline needed it to settle her nerves.

I went to the rooftop without a second thought.

The wind was fierce. Adeline stood near the edge in a thin maternity dress.

She was turning the jade bracelet over in her fingers, smiling like a snake.

Jacqueline, you really think you can just sign some papers and walk away?

I looked at her coldlyGive me the bracelet.

Give it back? Adeline laughed softly and opened her hand.

Crack!

The jade bracelet hit the concrete and shattered into pieces.

My heart shattered with it. I threw myself to the ground, scrambling to gather the fragments.

That was when the rooftop door slammed open.

Wallace came charging through, out of breath.

The instant Adeline saw him, her face twisted into terror. She screamed and stumbled backward.

Jacqueline, stay away from me! The baby is innocent!

Half her body was already over the railing.

Wallace's eyes split red and he roaredJacqueline! Stop!

He charged over and kicked me square in the chest without hesitation.

The force sent me rolling across the ground. Something warm surged up my throat, and I spat out a mouthful of blood.

Wallace pulled Adeline into his arms and held her tight.

It's okay, Addie. I'm here.

I lay facedown on the ground, staring at the blood-smeared shard of jade bracelet in my hand, and suddenly the whole thing felt absurd beyond words.

The phone in my pocket buzzed again.

I dragged it out with trembling fingers.

The me from seven years ago had sent one final message

I understand now. Thank you for the warning.

But I won't give up on Wallace. And I won't let that future version of me die on the operating table.

I stared at those words and let out a dry, bitter laugh.

Right. The Wallace of seven years agothe man who would have plucked the moon from the sky and handed it to Jacqueline Sullivan. How could he possibly cheat on her?

I gripped the railing and hauled myself to my feet.

Wallace turned his head. His gaze cut like a bladeJacqueline, you're vicious to the core. You want someone dead that badly? Then go die yourself.

He pointed at the decommissioned freezer room beside the rooftop access.

Lock her in there. Without my order, nobody lets her out.

Several bodyguards rushed forward and dragged me toward the iron door that radiated a bone-deep cold.

I didn't struggle. I let them shove me inside.

The iron door slammed shut with a bang, swallowing every last trace of light and sound.

The freezer room was minus twenty degrees.

I was wearing nothing but a thin hospital gown, my back pressed against a wall crusted with frost.

My body temperature was draining away, bit by bit.

I took out my phone and used its last sliver of battery to send a scheduled email to my lawyer.

Then I opened that post on the online forum.

No need to wait anymore. I'm already dead.

I closed my eyes and felt life pulling away from me in the cold, slow and quiet.

He carried Adeline back to the ward and spent the whole night comforting her.

It wasn't until noon the next day that he remembered the woman he'd locked in the freezer.

Go let Jacqueline out. He sat on the sofa peeling an apple for Adeline, his tone barely more than an afterthought as he told his assistant, A whole night in there should've taught her a lesson. Have her come kowtow to Addie and admit she was wrong, and we'll call it settled.

Bill left to carry out the order.

Ten minutes later, he came crashing back into the ward, face white as paper, voice shaking so hard the words barely held together.

Mr. F-Farleyyour wifeyour wife is gone!