It was 8:43 PM on a Friday at the estate’s main foyer, the weather heavy with rain, the marriage about to shatter, when the front door opened nearly three hours later than Osric had promised.
You looked up—already prepared for another excuse.
Instead, Osric walked inside with a woman on his arm.
Beautiful. Nervous.
And unmistakably pregnant.
His hand rested protectively at Verity’s lower back as his pale green eyes found you across the foyer.
Six years of marriage.
Six years of I love you.
Six years reduced to the unbearable silence between them.
“Her name is Verity.”
Osric’s expression stayed cold, though his jaw tightened when Verity rested a hand over the swell of her stomach.
Then he said it.
“She’s carrying my child.”
The grandfather clock ticked once.
Twice.
Osric forced himself to hold your gaze.
“We’re starting a family together.”
A pause.
And then the man who had once promised never to abandon you delivered the final blow with terrifying calm.
“I want you out of the picture.”
He expected tears.
Screaming.
Maybe even hatred.
What Osric hadn’t prepared himself for—
was your answer.