Your Sea of Clouds Holds No Returning Moon

Three years married. Three years of swallowing it.

All because everything Gerard Gilbert and I did had to go before his circle of friends for a show of hands.

Small things, like matters between the two of us. Big things, like how often we shared a bed.

And his female friend, Myrtle Pruitt, held the single veto.

"You promised. Whatever it is, you'd give in to me. No lies."

Half of our anniversary trip, dragged back so she could throw a birthday party for her dog. I said nothing.

Running a fever of a hundred and four and told to walk to the hospital. I bore it.

Until the day I stood there with my prenatal checkup slip and said the tests, before and after the delivery, would cost fifteen thousand.

Myrtle, off to the side, watched me and raised her hand with a smiling little veto.

"I don't agree. The baby belongs to both of you."

"But the money's all earned by Gerard's hard work alone. You should have to give something too, shouldn't you?"

"For fairness. Don't say I never gave you a chance."

Then she snatched my phone, installed a deal app, opened the spinning wheel, and started forwarding links to collect coupons.

She said flatly that whenever I scraped together fifteen thousand, I'd have earned the right to have the baby.

I cupped my pregnant belly, my eyes red, and made myself ask.

"You agree with this too?"

Gerard dealt the cards without a care in the world, then lifted his eyes.

"Myrtle's had trouble making decisions ever since she was little. It's not often she works up the courage to make one."

"Be generous. Once she's in a better mood, whatever compensation you want is yours."

She was making trouble, and he was smiling.

And it hit me.

That so-called single veto was nothing but favoritism, out in the open for all to see.

If that was how it was, then my life had no room for a love that ran on a show of hands either.

...

"Come on, sis, you're already at a dollar thirty."

I came back to myself as Myrtle waved the "Boost successful" screen at me.

She gave me a smug little smile.

The others picked up their phones too, one after another, tapping the link she'd blasted to the group.

The red-envelope chime kept going off.

There was not a trace of a smile on my face.

My eyes fell on the man in the corner of the sofa, the most privileged one in the room. My husband.

The one Myrtle leaned on above all others. Gerard Gilbert.

"See? Just a little while and it already shows two hundred dollars."

"I bet fifteen thousand only takes half an hour. Right, Gerard?"

Only when she brought me up.

Gerard finally gave a low sound and asked where the app's registration page was.

Then he lifted his phone and scanned the code.

The moment his own ID appeared in the friend-boost list.

My heart went cold, inch by inch.

This wasn't the first time Gerard had indulged Myrtle's games, her wild whims.

The two-person movie date we'd agreed on for my birthday, quietly changed by veto into a haunted escape room.

When the actor scared me so badly I screamed and stumbled everywhere, he simply extended our booking by four more hours, just to keep Myrtle laughing.

Afterward I broke my leg, and he coaxed me with a bowl of porridge he'd made himself.

"Myrtle only wanted to give you a birthday you'd never forget. She didn't mean it. Don't hold it against her."

Even the April Fools' prank, where the streamers got swapped for shards of toxic colored industrial glass.

The doctor said it came within a hair of ruining my eyes, of leaving me blind for good.

Gerard simply handed me a tablet and pointed at the jewelry on it for me to pick.

"I've already scolded her. Next time she acts up, I'll lock her away."

And the rafting trip changed on purpose to a wild, dangerous channel with no safety measures at all, my prenatal meal for expecting mothers swapped for a group-order takeout box...

Do all of that to me, fine. But never joke about the child I'm about to deliver!

A film of tears rose over my eyes.

I forced down the fury and the sting churning in my chest, my hand tightening without my meaning it to.

For the first time, I spoke against him to his face.

"I don't agree. Whatever you two got up to before, fine."

"But this time, forget it!"

I stepped forward to grab my phone back and leave.

Myrtle seemed startled and cried out, backing up half a step.

Her foot slipped, and she went straight into the table lined with red wine.

A loud crash.

She sat there among the shards, still shaking, clutching her forearm as the blood wouldn't stop.

Her eyes flooded red.

I reached out on instinct to help her up, and a figure rushed in and shoved me away.

Gerard held her against him, and the look he turned on me was full of a coldness I didn't recognize.

"Who said you could touch her?"

My lips parted. I wanted to deny it.

But Myrtle broke into sobs first, throwing her arms around his neck, shaking her head, all forlorn.

"Sis didn't mean to. I lost my footing myself."

"I knew she's always cared about money more than anyone. After all, even her own flesh and blood..."

As if she'd said the wrong thing, she quickly covered her mouth.

At that, everyone in the room fell silent.

They all knew Gerard had bought me home with cold hard cash, and they knew that in our poorest year I gave up our first child for fifteen hundred dollars.

Gerard's handsome brows sank darker still, and something like disgust crept into the way he looked at me.

Then he handed down the order, final and absolute.

"Stay by her and finish the boosting. Fifteen thousand. Whenever you have it, that's when you get to have the baby."

Watching the private room about to be sealed shut, I cradled my belly, my whole body crawling with cold.

All because at eight, I stole one piece of candy and my stepmother shut me in the freezer for two hours.

Ever since, I'd had claustrophobia, terrified of being alone and of cold, sealed-up spaces.

Gerard knew all of this.

Back when we were dating, he was the one who took me to the hospital every week for checkups and counseling.

I snapped back to myself and felt the suffocation the fear was dragging up.

My body shook harder.

Even the mild air-conditioning now felt like knives boring straight into my nose, my throat.

"Gerard, let me out."

"If I stay in here, my baby and I will both die."

I bit down on my bloodless lips and looked at Gerard, who was holding Myrtle, almost begging him.

At my words, his eyes dropped to the swell of my belly.

His brows drew together slightly, a flicker of hesitation in his face.

Seeing this, Myrtle in his arms shifted her gaze to my ashen face.

She covered her mouth and gasped.

"What is she even talking about? All we did was ask you to sit here quietly and help earn the money for the baby. How could that put you and the little one in danger?"

"She's not going to use that claustrophobia as an excuse again, is she? Even the doctor said your condition has improved so much."

At that, Gerard's breathing caught.

He remembered the medication bottles in my cabinet gathering dust, and he was certain I was lying to him.

The disgust in his eyes deepened, and his voice came out cold.

"Hailey, if you're going to lie, at least come up with a decent excuse."

Then he made to leave, carrying her.

Watching the soundproof door about to close, I lunged forward to stop it.

A bodyguard blocked me head-on.

In the shove, my foot slipped and I crashed hard to the floor.

I felt a warm stream running between my legs, and I clutched my belly.

My face slowly went panicked, white.

"Gerard, something's wrong, the baby got hitcall an ambulance!"

At that, he instinctively let go of Myrtle and started toward me to check on me.

But his wrist was seized tight.

Then Myrtle looked at me and shook her head with feigned worry.

"Sis, I saw it clearly. You sat yourself down on the floor."

"I know you're trying to make Gerard stay, but no matter what, you can't use the baby as a joke."

The bodyguard beside her dropped to his knees in terror at the sight.

"Mr. Gilbert, II didn't use any force at all. Mrs. Gilbert fell on her own."

Gerard's steps stopped.

Watching his eyes turn colder, I let out a bitter laugh.

Just as I thought. He didn't believe me.

Feeling the fierce contractions, I dragged my heavy body and crawled toward the sofa, one push at a time.

I meant to save myself.

But the man's tall figure took the phone away first.

I met Gerard's cold, handsome eyes.

He spoke, his voice like ice:

"Stop the act. The doctor said your due date is two months off."

"Your pulse steadied long ago. How could one light bump cause anything?"

The moment the door shut, the smell of blood grew thicker.

I gasped for air, clawing at the door like a madwoman.

"Gerard, it's real, I'm bleeding!"

"The baby, please, save the baby inside me"

But my cries died against the walls of that room.

Through the thick glass, Myrtle met my chalk-white face and covered her eyes as if in fear.

"Gerard, she must hate me now."

"It's all my fault, I couldn't keep my footing"

One door between us.

Gerard's back was to me as he carefully tore open a bandage strip.

He didn't see the corner of her mouth curl up in secret delight. He only crouched down and spoke coldly.

"You did nothing wrong."

"Hailey brought this on herself. She has no one to blame."

"Besides, she's healthy and strong. What could happen from being shut in a room?"

My knocking hand went still.

I thought back to half a month ago, when a chill left me burning at a hundred and four, aching all over and too weak to move.

The housekeeper happened to be off that day.

It took everything I had to reach my phone and get through to Gerard.

"You've always had a strong constitution. You used to chew a couple of cold pills and be fine. What's the matter today?"

"Myrtle's about to give her acceptance speech. I need to take pictures of it."

"Handle it yourself. Stop calling."

That day I cried under the covers for a long time, and I accepted a fact I could no longer deny.

The boy who once treasured me was long gone.

Yet now I couldn't even cry.

I only heard Myrtle's sweet, coaxing voice outside.

"Gerard, I'm a little hungry. I want that spicy crawfish place in Northgate."

Gerard refused without a second thought.

"No. You have a wound. You can't eat spicy food."

"I remember you love the sweet dessert from that shop too. I'll go get it for you."

Two hours round trip. He was more than willing.

The assistant beside him glanced at the room where I was locked and spoke hesitantly.

"Mr. Gilbert, I recall the ma'am only had a bowl of sweet cream soup before she left the house."

"The adult can go without food, but the baby inside her"

At that, I pounded on the door harder.

Forcing down the tearing pain, I dragged a bloody finger across the door and wrote three fast words.

"BLEEDING DOWN THERE."

Gerard, just turn around and look. One look

The three of them heard the noise and slowly turned their gazes to me.

Not a flicker of a reaction.

Myrtle's eyes glinted.

She shook Gerard's arm, cutting off his hesitation.

"Gerard, maybe just let it go this time."

"When you get down to it, she only hurts other people because she loves you too much"

She pressed a hand to her bandaged arm and let a faint, bitter smile show.

Gerard's face stayed cold as he looked away.

"If she wants to eat, she can go collect deal-app coupons and scrape together the money herself."

Then he turned and gently patted Myrtle's hand.

"Wait for me." He walked off without looking back.

I watched his figure disappear around the corner.

In the end he still chose to go buy Myrtle her food.

But Gerard, our child is really dying

Covered in blood, I sank to my knees in despair.

I could feel the little life inside me draining away, bit by bit.

As my mind blurred, the door opened and shut again.

A basin of ice-cold water hit me in the face, and I shuddered from the cold.

But the moment I moved, my lower body screamed with a tearing pain.

Myrtle's expression had shed all its usual sweetness and fragility. She covered her nose in disgust.

Her eyes shifted away from the bloody words on the door.

She looked down at me with cold contempt and sneered.

"I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Turns out you really are bleeding."

Only then did it hit me.

From outside, the glass was one black reflective sheet.

But a detail even Myrtle could catch with a single glance, Gerard hadn't spared half a second to notice, too disgusted to pause.

Gasping, I gave up every last scrap of dignity.

I crawled over and wrapped my arms around her feet, begging like something less than human.

"Myrtle, save my baby."

"If you'll just call an ambulance, I'll agree to anything, even divorcing Gerard."

Myrtle raised a brow, and someone at her side instantly set a chair down behind her.

She looked down at me, her silver heel nudging my pregnant belly, not gently, not hard, and gave a cold laugh.

"Who gave you the nerve to bargain with me?"

"Any woman but me who gets pregnant with Gerard's child doesn't deserve to give birth!"

The pressure on my hand grew heavier.

I flinched back on instinct, but one of her people dragged me back, palm pinned down.

The moment that sharp heel ground into my finger bones, I screamed.

My whole body shook with the pain.

Thrashing, I bit down hard on Myrtle's ankle.

Her face turned vicious, and she kicked me away.

The next second she went down, chair and all, sprawled on the floor.

She stared at me, her face twisted in pain.

"Sister, I let you out to be kind."

"Why do you have to destroy me..."

Gerard, who'd come running at the noise, saw the shard of glass buried at the top of Myrtle's thigh.

His eyes went cold.

"Hailey, did you really have to cause a scene this big?"

I shook my head desperately, dragging at the bloodstains on my hem, tears blurring everything.

"Gerard, I didn't, believe me."

"This is all my blood and the baby's. That cut on Myrtle..."

He kicked my hand away.

Clearly he'd seen the words I'd written on the door too.

Just as I was crawling toward Gerard, weak and stubborn,

Myrtle clutched her leg and bit her lip until it bled.

"Sister really is clever, writing a plea for help in lipstick just to trick me in here."

"Isn't that right... ah, Gerard, my leg hurts so much."

Before she could finish,

Gerard swept Myrtle into his arms and rushed out in a panic.

"Every private doctor to the top-floor suite in three minutes. Now, this instant!"

Out in the hall, the harsh lights lit up the reek of blood filling the room.

I dragged myself along the floor, pulling the flesh that had slid out of me.

Inch by inch, I crawled out of the room.

"Baby, don't be afraid... Mommy is going to find someone to save us."

But with Myrtle hurt,

everyone in the club was too afraid of crossing Gerard, all of them hurrying upstairs to beg his forgiveness.

Outside, more than a dozen of the city's well-known doctors climbed out of seven or eight private cars, medical bags in hand, cramming into the elevator.

"Save... save me..."

Until the last doctor to arrive, a woman, noticed me in the corner, drenched in blood.

Shocked, she pulled out her emergency kit.

"Ma'am, how are you bleeding this much?"

But Gerard, coming down from upstairs, quietly stopped her hands.

He frowned down at me.

"Stop the act. Anyone who knows would say that's Myrtle's blood. Anyone who doesn't would think it's yours."

"Come on. Go kneel and apologize to her."

"Otherwise, even if you scrape together fifteen thousand, the Gilbert family won't claim this child."

I lifted my eyelids halfway, dead all over.

I gestured for him to look at my right hand, the flesh crushed to pulp under Myrtle's heel.

"Isn't this enough to pay her back?"

Gerard sneered.

"The self-injury routine. Cute. If I didn't know exactly what you are, I might've believed it."

"A woman who'd harm her own child would snap a hand for sympathy without a second thought."

Is that so?

I looked at the dead flesh sliding out from between my legs and pulled at the corner of my mouth.

"A few minutes ago, our second child was gone too."

At that, Gerard's pupils shrank hard.

Then he came back to himself and refused, on instinct, to believe it.

"Hailey, you're playing pitiful again."

The next second, the woman doctor cradling the stillborn she'd carried out burst into tears.

"Sir, the baby really isn't breathing."