Abigail’s mind raced as she grappled with the harsh reality of her marriage. Three years. Three long years spent trying everything she could to get pregnant. She’d gone through multiple medical exams, undergone treatments, and followed every doctor’s recommendation. Yet, despite her efforts, she remained childless. What was she doing wrong?
Her thoughts abruptly halted when the realization hit her like a sudden wave.
“Don’t you know if I’m capable?” she asked Sean, her voice trembling with an undercurrent of frustration and pain.
Sean’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw tightening. “You’re capable enough to question me, but are you capable of understanding?” His response was sharp, as if the mere suggestion that something might be wrong with their attempts cut deeper than she could comprehend.
Abigail raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “If I knew, would I have struggled for three years without getting pregnant?” she shot back, her voice tinged with bitterness. She didn’t need him to tell her the obvious—it was becoming clear that this wasn’t just about her. Something wasn’t right, but neither of them had the courage to confront the real issue.
Sean gritted his teeth, clearly frustrated. “Is that the only thing on your mind?” His anger was palpable. To him, it seemed like she cared for nothing but the child she couldn’t have. The woman he married was turning into someone he didn’t recognize.
Abigail froze. His words stung, sinking into the core of her being. How had everything turned into this? She felt like an object, a tool, used only for one purpose.
Before she could react, Sean moved swiftly. He grabbed her, lifting her with ease, ignoring her protests as she struggled to break free. “Sean! Let go of me!” she yelled, furious and desperate.
But he didn’t stop. With a flick of his car keys, the lights of a sleek black Land Rover flashed. He shoved her into the car before sliding in after her, trapping her in the cramped space. There was no escape as his body pressed against hers, his hand roughly cupping her face before he kissed her.
Abigail recoiled, wanting to push him away, but there was no room to escape in the confined space of the vehicle. His kiss was forceful, and she wanted to slap him, but he quickly caught both her hands, pinning them above her head against the car door.
His touch was overwhelming—hot, urgent, as though he hadn’t touched her in years. The sensation made Abigail feel sick to her stomach. His hands roamed to the small of her back, unzipping her dress.
Her heart sank. This wasn’t the man she’d married. This wasn’t the loving husband she’d once dreamed of. This was a stranger who only saw her as a means to an end. His breathing grew shallow, and his desire became palpable, but Abigail’s heart had already turned cold.
Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the crushing weight of the moment. She had once longed for his embrace, but now, it felt like an assault. “Isn’t this what you want?” Sean’s voice came out hoarsely, as if the question was meant to manipulate her.
It hit her hard—she felt exposed, humiliated, like a puppet in his hands. Her own response was numb, mechanical. “Yes. This is what I wanted,” she murmured, her voice hollow.
But that wasn’t the truth. Not anymore.
She had long since given up on their marriage, on the idea of having his child. Everything felt like a lie now, a mockery of what she once hoped for. Her tears were no longer just from sadness—they were from the deep disappointment that had festered inside her for years.
Sean’s gaze softened, but his anger remained. He saw her disgust, and it only fueled his frustration. He yanked open the car door and stormed out, leaving her alone in the car. Abigail stayed there for a moment, her body stiff, her mind blank.
Her voice was icy when she spoke. “When are we going to file for divorce?”
Sean flung her hand away, his irritation evident. “Tomorrow morning. Are you satisfied now?”
Abigail didn’t flinch at his words. “I couldn’t be more satisfied.”
Sean’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t say another word. With a final angry glance, he turned and walked away, leaving her to her own thoughts.
As he disappeared, Abigail got out of the car, her heart heavy. She hadn’t expected things to end like this, but then again, she should have known better. The loud, festive atmosphere of the venue felt worlds away as she stepped onto the empty lawn. She took deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside her, but the bitter taste of betrayal lingered.
She wiped her eyes, trying to clear away the tears that threatened to spill. Damn him. What a jerk.
Slowly, she walked back, her pace deliberate but slow. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and as she bent to pick up the purse she had dropped earlier, she noticed someone approaching her.
Kevin.
He had been watching from a distance, and he must’ve seen everything. When he saw Abigail standing alone, looking defeated, he walked over, his presence offering a strange sense of comfort. Without saying a word, he draped his coat over her shoulders.
“Uh… Sean asked me to give you his coat,” Kevin said, awkwardly, but it was clear he didn’t want to add to her distress.
Abigail tensed at the mention of Sean’s name, but her exhaustion and vulnerability won over. She pulled the coat off immediately and stood up, throwing it back at Kevin. “There’s no need. It’s dirty,” she said, her voice sharp but weak.
Kevin, looking a bit taken aback, quickly explained, “No, no. I’ll be honest with you. Miss Smith said you might catch a cold. If you get sick, our collaboration could be ruined. This is my coat. Just… please put it on.”
Abigail hesitated for a moment before finally accepting it. She draped the coat over her shoulders, offering Kevin a strained smile. “That’s better. Thank you. I’ll go look for Miss Smith now.”
Kevin nodded, but as he turned to leave, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had to do something. That smile she gave him, so forced and heartbroken, had twisted something inside him. He cursed under his breath, reminding himself not to get involved with his friend’s wife. It was wrong.
But the thought of her—broken, lost—lingered in his mind.
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