When Zach Carrington paid off a $500,000 gambling debt for Sophia Delaney’s father, he didn’t bother consulting me, his wife. Outraged, I confronted him, only to be met with indifference: “I earned that money, so I’ll spend it however I want. I don’t need your permission.” I didn’t argue. I simply walked into the home office. That night, I transferred the last $400,000 from our shared account and left a divorce agreement on his desk. The next day, I booked an appointment to terminate my pregnancy. Content I first heard that Zach Carrington had fallen from a building through a friend while I was confined to bed, trying to stabilize my pregnancy. Despite being three months along and in a fragile state, I panicked and rushed to Bluegrass Regional Medical Center. I was so anxious that I tripped and fell on the way. By the time I reached the hospital room, out of breath and disheveled, I heard a woman’s muffled sobs through the door. Edging closer, I peeked in to see Sophia Delaney curled up next to Zach, her tear-streaked face pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Zach. This is all my fault,” she choked out. Pale and haggard, Zach sat propped up in bed, his left arm in a cast. Gently, he pulled her into his embrace with a tenderness I had never witnessed before. “Don’t be silly. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters. This? This is nothing.” I froze in the doorway, my bedraggled appearance making me feel like an utter fool. Ignoring the dull ache in my abdomen, I turned and walked away. The urgency I had felt moments ago now seemed laughable. Returning to the empty expanse of our house, I sat in silence until nightfall. It was in the dead of night that I started bleeding. Sharp pains wracked my stomach as I fumbled to call 911. By dawn, I was in the hospital. Thankfully, the baby was safe. For the sake of the pregnancy, I stayed in the hospital. My room was only a floor below Zach’s, but the distance felt like an unbridgeable chasm. While hooked up to an IV, I scrolled through my phone and stumbled upon a news alert: “Yesterday afternoon, a woman on South Main Street attempted to jump from a building after a family dispute. Her boyfriend, trying to save her, fell alongside her. Both landed on safety cushions.” The accompanying photo showed a tall man cradling a fragile woman as they fell, their pose evoking an image of unwavering devotion. It was Zach and Sophia. To the world, they looked like the perfect couple. I stared at the screen, numb, before closing the article with a bitter laugh.
On the fourth day of my hospital stay, Zach called me. His voice was cold, laced with reproach. “Celia, do you even know I’m in the hospital? It’s been days, and you haven’t bothered to visit. Do I even matter to you as a husband?” Unmoved, I replied flatly, “I’ve been busy.” His anger flared. “Busy? You’re a housewife. What could you possibly be busy with? You just don’t care about me. If I’d known how heartless you are, I never would’ve married you!” The line went dead as he slammed the phone down. The busy signal hummed in my ear as I sat, lost in thought. We had been married for five years. In the beginning, we were courteous, even affectionate. Now, every interaction felt like a battle. Looking back, the cracks had appeared long before. When Zach started working late and staying out overnight, claiming he had to work overtime, our marriage became little more than a hollow shell. Even trying to conceive had been an uphill battle. I had begged him for months before he reluctantly agreed. Whenever we were intimate, he treated it like a chore, devoid of affection. After I became pregnant, I went to every appointment alone. He didn’t even know that I had been put on bed rest due to low progesterone. To him, Sophia Delaney was the center of the universe. I stayed in the hospital for two weeks without a single call from Zach. When I was discharged, I returned home at dusk, only to find Zach had also been released. The dimly lit living room was eerily quiet. He sat on the couch, his left arm still in a sling, his face unreadable. “Where have you been?” he asked, his voice cutting through the silence like frost. “I’ve been home for two days, and you’ve been nowhere to be found. What were you doing?” I sat down at the dining table, my tone indifferent. “Just needed some time to clear my head.” “Clear your head?” His voice rose, frustration flickering in his expression. “I’ve been hospitalized for weeks, and you’re out clearing your head? While I’m injured?” I glanced at him, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sophia seemed to be taking good care of you. What could I possibly add?” Zach’s eyes darkened. “That’s right. You’ll never be as attentive as Sophia! She’s been running herself ragged for me while you haven’t lifted a finger. You’ve failed as a wife!” His righteousness ignited a flicker of anger in me. “If she’s so good, why don’t we just get a divorce? Let her have the title of Mrs. Carrington.” For a moment, he was stunned, but his face quickly twisted into anger. “Celia, stop being ridiculous. I’ve told you a hundred times—Sophia and I are just friends!” “Friends?” I scoffed. “Since when do friends risk their lives for each other?” “She’s been through so much,” Zach retorted. “Her father’s a gambler who abuses her when he loses. She almost ended her life, Celia. What was I supposed to do? Let her die? I’ve known her my entire life. How could I abandon her?” “And yet, you expect me to believe you’re just friends?” I countered, my voice sharp. “If she’s that important, why didn’t you marry her instead of me?” Zach faltered, his confidence wavering. After a pause, he glared at me and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. In the echo of his departure, I sat alone, the weight of his absence crushing yet strangely freeing.
This wasn’t the first time Zach Carrington and I fought because of Sophia Delaney. Sophia grew up in the same neighborhood as Zach. Her mother passed away when she was young, and her father was not only a compulsive gambler but also an alcoholic. Whenever her father lost money gambling, he’d drink himself into a rage and take it out on her with verbal and physical abuse. By the time she was 16, Sophia had dropped out of school to work odd jobs. Perhaps her tragic circumstances triggered Zach’s protective instincts because he had always looked out for her. They even dated once. At 20, Zach and Sophia were briefly together. But Margaret Carrington, Zach’s mother, vehemently opposed their relationship. Sophia’s lack of education and her father’s addiction made her entirely unsuitable in Margaret’s eyes. Not long after, under Margaret’s relentless interference, the two broke up. After their breakup, Sophia left Lexington and moved to another city for work. As for Zach, it wasn’t long before he met me through mutual friends. According to Zach, it was love at first sight. He pursued me tirelessly for two years, and eventually, I fell for his unwavering dedication. We dated, got engaged, and then married—it all fell into place so seamlessly. At first, our marriage was stable and harmonious, filled with mutual respect and care. But last year, Sophia came back into the picture. Sophia returned to Lexington because her grandmother was gravely ill. It wasn’t long before she and Zach reconnected. One night, after being beaten by her father during one of his drunken outbursts, Sophia called Zach, sobbing into the phone. Hearing her tearful voice, Zach rushed to her side. Their contact became increasingly frequent after that. Sometimes, Zach skipped my birthday or our anniversary to comfort Sophia. I fought with him about it countless times. But over time, the fights wore us down, and cracks began forming in our relationship. Around then, Margaret suggested, “Celia, why don’t you two have a child? A baby will strengthen your bond and make your marriage more stable. External influences won’t shake you so easily.” I listened to her advice and convinced Zach to try for a baby. Now, I regret that decision more than anything. This child should never have come into existence. 4 After slamming the door, Zach didn’t come home that night. The next day, Riley Hart called me, her voice hesitant. “Celia, I saw Zach last night…” she began cautiously. “He… he went to a hotel with Sophia.” “Oh,” I responded flatly, my tone devoid of emotion. “Got it.” “Got it?!” Riley’s anger exploded. “Celia, he’s probably cheating on you! What kind of man does this while his wife is pregnant? He’s scum!” Her anger on my behalf brought a wave of emotion crashing over me. Tears welled up as I choked out, “Riley… I almost miscarried recently. But Zach doesn’t care about me or the baby. All he cares about is Sophia.” “That bastard!” Riley swore furiously. “If anything happens to you or the baby, I’ll make them pay!” Fueled by righteous fury, Riley ranted about Zach and Sophia for the next half hour. I didn’t expect her to take matters into her own hands after we hung up. She confronted Sophia in person and tore into her mercilessly. Later that evening, my phone buzzed as I was brewing herbal tea for my pregnancy. It was Sophia. Her voice quivered as she began crying over the line, “Celia, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to come between you and Zach. He’s just an old friend. We grew up together, so we’re naturally close. Please don’t misunderstand…” “Enough!” I interrupted, my patience snapping. “I don’t care about whatever’s going on between you two. Just don’t call me again.” I ended the call without hesitation. Minutes later, my phone rang again. This time, it was Zach. Without so much as a greeting, he launched into a tirade. “Celia, why are you making things difficult for Sophia? She’s been through enough already! Can’t you be a little more understanding?” His audacity enraged me. “Where were you last night?” I demanded. “Sophia was upset,” he replied calmly. “I was keeping her company.” “Oh, keeping her company? Does that require booking a hotel room for the entire night?” Zach’s voice hardened. “Her dad was drunk and violent again. She had nowhere else to go. What was I supposed to do? Bring her home? Celia, stop being so petty. You weren’t like this before.” At that moment, exhaustion washed over me. I hung up before he could finish his excuses. Whatever we once had, it was gone. 5 That night, Zach’s bank account suddenly showed a $500,000 transfer. Since his account was linked to my phone number, I received the notification immediately. Despite our cold war, I couldn’t ignore such a significant amount. I dialed his number at once. It took several tries before he picked up. His tone was curt and impatient. “What now?” “What did you do with $500,000?” I asked directly. There was a pause before he admitted, his voice unsteady, “Sophia’s dad owed $500,000 in gambling debts. I paid it off for him.” “You what?!” My voice rose in disbelief. “Zach, have you lost your mind? Five hundred thousand dollars?” Rather than showing any remorse, Zach sounded self-righteous. “If I hadn’t paid, they would’ve taken Sophia to settle the debt. She would’ve been forced to marry some older man. She’s only 27! I couldn’t just stand by and let her life be ruined!” I felt my chest tighten as rage and despair surged through me. After a long moment of silence, I forced myself to speak calmly. “Something like this—you should’ve discussed it with me first.” Zach scoffed. “I earned that money. I’ll spend it however I see fit. Money can be replaced, but Sophia’s life can’t.” I had no words left. I hung up, utterly drained. Yes, the money was his, but I had been there during the early days of his business, working alongside him late into the night. That money represented years of effort—our effort. We had been saving to buy a bigger house, but now… That was the moment I knew our marriage was truly over. Without tears or anger, I walked into the home office. I drafted a divorce agreement, transferred the remaining $400,000 in his account to my brother, and packed my things. Late that night, I drove away from the house we had shared for five years. Our five-year marriage ended in silence and finality. 6 The next day, I walked into the clinic for the procedure. As the cold instruments invaded my body, I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They flowed uncontrollably. I had fought so hard to keep this child, but now I was the one ending his life. The pain was searing as if a piece of my soul was being ripped away. But no matter how much it hurt, I had to stay resolute. I couldn’t bring this child into a broken, single-parent household. Nor could I let him become a pawn for Zach Carrington to manipulate and bind me to him forever. If I was going to end this, it had to be clean and final. As they removed my child, an ache sharper than any physical pain spread through my chest. I didn’t regret ending my marriage, but I deeply regretted allowing this child to come into my life only to take it away. After the procedure, I forced myself to leave the clinic alone, ignoring the discomfort radiating. In the hospital lobby, I ran into Zach and Sophia. Sophia’s face bore faint bruises, evidence of some recent injury. Zach’s left arm was still in a sling, and his right arm was draped protectively around Sophia’s shoulder as they walked together, his expression gentle as ever. When they saw me, both froze. “Celia?” Zach asked. He subtly removed his arm from around Sophia and frowned. “What are you doing here? A check-up?” I looked him over coldly, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Caught red-handed, Zach? Feeling guilty?” His face darkened immediately. “What nonsense are you spouting now?” “Am I wrong?” Zach’s expression grew stiff, but he held his temper because of Sophia’s presence. “Sophia’s dad hit her again a couple of days ago. Her arm hurt, so I brought her here for an X-ray. It’s not what you think.” How laughable. Sophia gets a sore arm, and Zach treats it like a crisis. Meanwhile, his wife nearly miscarried, and he couldn’t care less. I couldn’t bring myself to engage further. I turned to leave, but Zach grabbed my wrist. “What’s going on, Celia? Why do you look so pale? What are you doing at the hospital?” I yanked my hand away and spat out the words with icy precision. “Getting an abortion.” “What?” Zach’s face went blank, and after two stunned seconds, he practically shouted, “You aborted the baby?!” His shock sent a cruel, vindictive satisfaction through me. “Yes,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Almost four months along. It was a boy, too. Looked just like you. Such a shame your mother won’t get a grandson now.” “Celia Winters!” Zach’s voice boomed through the lobby, his face contorted with rage. “Are you out of your mind?!”
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