At the graduation ceremony, I exposed my husband’s affair with a female student in front of everyone. Unable to bear the humiliation, she threw herself from the eighteenth floor to prove her innocence. I became the one they blamed for her death. The guilt broke me — severe depression. I climbed to the rooftop more times than I could count, ready to pay with my life. Every single time, it was Liam who pulled me back — arms locked around me, voice low and steady against my ear. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll stay with you. Always.” Even as the world turned against me, he stood in front of me and took the blows. “Ava is my wife. Whatever she carries, I carry too.” Slowly, I began to wonder if I’d been wrong about the two of them from the start. Then Stella’s letter arrived. I shattered completely. [Ava, I’m sorry. Liam and I lied to you.] [We staged the whole thing — provoked you into a scene, then faked my death to disappear. Ten months later, I gave birth to his child.] [We had to protect the baby. We had to protect my reputation. You were the only option. I’m sorry it had to be you.] That night, my hands shook as I reached for the sleeping pills. I was crying as I forced them down my throat, handful after handful. Liam jolted awake. He lunged across the bed and pried my jaw open, fingers digging deep. “Spit it out — Ava, spit it out right now!” The pills came up in a mess of saliva. He held me so tight I couldn’t breathe, his tears hitting the back of my hand one after another. “Don’t leave me. Please.” I said nothing. My eyes dropped to his neck. There was a mark there — vivid, unmistakable. He followed my gaze and went pale. His hand flew up to cover it, yanking his collar higher. By morning, I stood in front of the mirror. The person looking back at me was hollowed out — skin and bone, dull eyes, hair tangled like weeds. For over six months I’d been folded into the dark corners of this apartment, not living so much as enduring. Outside the door, reporters waited with their cameras like hunters at a blind. “Stella was young and brilliant. You’re weak and pathetic — can’t even have children. What else do you have besides jealousy?” “You drove a rising star to her death with your dirty tricks. You’re a monster.” “Professor Harmon must have the worst luck alive, ending up with someone like you.” Even taking out the trash earned me eggs and gravel from god knows where, hurled with gleeful hatred. Only Liam never wavered. He fed me my medication without complaint. He taught himself to cook, badly at first. He held my hand through every nightmare, all night long. I had believed he was my salvation. My cure. Now the cold words from Stella’s letter crashed back into me. [Don’t blame Liam, Ava. He’s been suffering too — I’m the only one who brings him any comfort.] [Just hold on a little longer. Once the dust settles, I’ll tell everyone the truth. That you never pushed me.] I put on a mask and a cap and quietly followed Liam to a hidden apartment on the outskirts of Chicago. The sunlight hit my eyes like a slap — I’d forgotten what it felt like. The door eased open. He slipped inside with the easy familiarity of someone returning home, his face soft in a way I hadn’t seen in months. But I still saw her. Stella Knox, holding a baby almost a year old, laughing like she owned the world. Everything in the letter was true. My legs nearly gave out. I pressed my palm flat against the wall, my other hand balling into a fist. Before I turned eighteen, my body was whole. Then I went looking for Liam — he’d been taken. I found him, but a rusted blade caught me across the lower abdomen during the struggle. We had no money. All we could afford was the cheapest antibiotics from a back-alley clinic. I crouched on that filthy bathroom floor and tried to hold myself together while everything fell apart inside me. By the time a real doctor found me, I was already delirious with pain. When I came to, I was told the damage was permanent. My uterus — destroyed beyond repair. I would never carry a child. Liam held me and wept until he couldn’t speak. “It’s my fault. I’m so sorry, Ava. I will fix this. I swear I will fix this.” He meant it. He went into medicine because of me, pushed himself until he became the youngest professor his department had ever seen. He swore he would find a way. But then, at the top of his field, he met Stella — another prodigy in medicine. He told me he was away at a conference. He was gone for ten months. And when he came back, she had his child. He had let me rot under the weight of a lie while building a life with someone else. A laugh tore out of me — low, broken, unhinged. My whole body shook with it. Tears and snot streaked down my face. I must have looked insane. It was dark by the time I turned and walked home. Liam still hadn’t come out. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and went straight to his study. I found the experimental vials in the back of the cabinet. For nearly a decade, Liam had claimed he was researching a therapy to restore my reproductive system. Every trial had failed. Every subject who took it died of cardiac arrest. I uncapped one without hesitating and swallowed it.
The glass vial slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor. A searing heat tore through my throat. I felt none of it. I stepped over the broken glass in bare feet and walked out into the pouring rain. I don’t know how I ended up outside Stella’s building, but I did. My phone buzzed. I lit up the screen. [Ava, I’m working late tonight. Remember to take your meds.] But Liam’s car was parked right in front of me. I didn’t reply. I stood in the rain until almost dawn, barely conscious. The door finally opened. The two of them were tangled together like they couldn’t stand to separate. Stella pressed her lips to his temple. “I don’t want you to go. Can’t you stay a little longer?” Liam held her close, his voice gentle in a way that turned my stomach. “I’ll be back in a few days. I promise.” Something in me broke. I ran at them. Before I could get within reach, I was shoved hard to the ground. Liam looked down and saw me. His pupils contracted. “Ava — how did you—” I was shaking so badly I could barely point. “She’s supposed to be dead.” He went rigid. Then his expression tightened. “Is that what you wanted? To actually watch her die? This is where she’s been staying with the baby. Stop making a scene — we’ll talk at home.” He reached for my arm. Stella dropped to her knees behind him, eyes red. “Liam, I’m the one who told her the truth. I couldn’t stand watching you suffer because of me. This is all my fault. I don’t need any claim on you. Riley can take a different name — or I’ll go back up to the eighteenth floor right now if that’s what it takes—” Liam’s face drained. He turned and caught her, holding her like she was made of glass. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.” Then he looked back at me, and something in him went cold. “Ava. Are you done?” “I’ve spent six months walking on eggshells for you because of your depression. I’ve barely seen Stella at all. And you still can’t let it go.” The pain in my chest had nothing to do with the vial. I scrambled up and lunged forward. “You don’t have a heart — neither of you do!” He shoved me back down, harder this time. “At least I have a heart to give. You were so obsessed at eighteen that you got yourself gutted in an alley. You’re broken, Ava. You’ve always been broken.” He saw my face go white. Something flickered behind his eyes. His mouth opened. But what came out was: “How dare you call us heartless. I just wanted a child. What did I do wrong?” “Stop using your depression as a weapon. Stop threatening to die every time you don’t get your way. Stella will clear your name.” ‘You’re getting a child out of this — Riley will be yours to raise. You’re still my wife. What more do you want?” Tears fell from my face and hit the wet pavement. I turned and ran. That’s when Liam finally looked down. My feet were bare and shredded. A trail of blood marked every step I’d taken. He caught up and grabbed me, steadying me whether I wanted it or not, ignoring Stella calling his name behind us. I watched the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Whatever else happens, we’re getting those feet cleaned up.” The car was silent the whole way. At a red light, he took my hand. His voice dropped. “Ten years, Ava. You are the one I love. I know I broke your trust and I know that’s not a small thing. But in a few months, Riley will come live with us. I’ll cut things off with Stella completely. We can start over.” Riley. His child with her. I stared at my lap and said nothing. His phone rang. Stella’s voice, breathless and scared. “Liam, the baby won’t stop crying. She’s burning up. I don’t know what to do—” He hit the brakes so hard my head cracked against the window. He turned to look at me, and his tone left no room for argument. “You’re not far from home. Get yourself inside. And don’t breathe a word about Stella being alive to anyone.” I met his eyes. “And if I do?” His patience ran out in an instant. His voice went flat. “Don’t forget. Your mother is still in the hospital.”
I laughed — a hollow, gutted sound — and stepped out of the car. I’d almost forgotten. After Stella’s faked death, her father had shown up at our door with a canister of acid. My mother pushed me out of the way. It took him instead. She’d been in the hospital ever since. In the rearview mirror, Liam caught one last glimpse of my silhouette — gaunt, soaked through — and felt something snag in his chest. Then Riley’s crying pulled him back, and he drove away. I watched the taillights dissolve into the rain. Something ran into my eye. Hot. Then the sting hit. I pressed my fingers to my face. They came back red. Before I could process it, the compound in the vial detonated through my bloodstream. The world tilted. Then it went sideways entirely. I hit the ground and dragged myself to the nearest wall, fingers scrabbling at the wet concrete. My heart felt like it was being wrung apart. It was a long time before Liam called. His Porsche split the rain and lurched to a stop in front of me. He pulled me up, and when he saw my forehead — still bleeding — his expression shifted. “We need to get that cleaned. I’m taking you in.” He drove fast. The hospital was lit and white and loud. Once my wounds were dressed, he led me by the hand down a corridor and stopped outside a set of surgical doors. He held out a consent form. I stared at it. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. His voice came out rough. “Stella went into acute kidney failure. Riley can’t lose her right now. We can’t wait.” “Riley is going to call you Mom someday. You owe Stella this. One kidney isn’t a death sentence — think of it as making things right.” So this was why he’d come back for me. I didn’t move. He frowned. “The dressing already cost us time. If something happens to Stella, your mother’s treatment—” I cut him off quietly. “Fine.” “But you cover every cent of my mother’s ongoing care. All of it. Up front.” I turned and pushed through the surgical doors before he could respond. He stood watching my narrow frame disappear inside a gown three sizes too large. Something twisted in his stomach. From the adjacent table, Stella coughed — weak, deliberate. He was at her side in an instant, hand over hers. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.” The anesthesia needle went into my arm. That’s when I heard the surgeon hesitate. “Mr. Mercer — her vitals are very poor. There are signs of cardiac distress. Forcing a donation right now could trigger acute shock. Honestly, Stella’s condition isn’t yet critical enough to—” Liam laughed, short and sharp. “Did Ava put you up to this? Her health has always been fine. I’m a doctor — don’t tell me about cardiac distress. Your job is to make sure Stella comes out of this intact. Everything else is secondary.” The dull, grinding pull of extraction began. He crossed to my side only once, leaning in close. “Almost done, Ava. Just a little longer.” I didn’t have the strength to form an answer. When consciousness finally left me, the last things I heard were the flat scream of the cardiac monitor, shoes running on linoleum, and Liam’s voice — sudden, frantic, stripped of everything controlled. Three days later, I opened my eyes. Two nurses were murmuring just outside the curtain. “That woman in the next bay is so lucky — her husband is there every night. Changes her dressings himself, sleeps in the chair.” “And he’s gorgeous on top of everything. Some people really do have it all.” “Then there’s this one. Lost a kidney, nearly died, and not a single visitor.” I pressed my nails into my palm until it hurt. The door opened. Liam walked in carrying a thermos. “You’re awake. How do you feel? Is anything hurting?” He ladled soup and lifted the spoon to my mouth with practiced ease. I turned my head away. His hand stalled. Irritation surfaced behind his eyes. He set the bowl down on the nightstand with a crack. “What is your problem? I went through all this trouble and you can’t even—” “I lied to you once. Once. And I was trying to give you a family — something you could never give yourself. Can you not be reasonable about this for five minutes?” I thought about what the nurses had said. “I heard you’ve been making Stella bone broth every day. Your choice of cut, her choice of what she’s in the mood for.” I looked at him steadily. “The fat’s already congealed on top. This is what’s left over. I don’t eat other people’s leftovers, Liam.” His face went rigid. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. What came out was: “You’re being completely irrational.” “I’ll come back tomorrow.” The door slammed hard enough to rattle the frame. Tomorrow didn’t come. Neither did the day after, or the one after that. My body grew weaker by the hour. Then a call came in. When I heard what they said, the world went silent. I threw off the blankets and ran — down the corridor, through the double doors at the end, into the room I never wanted to see. My mother was lying there. Cold. Still. Her fingers still curled around a letter she hadn’t finished writing.
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