PART 1:
“If you ever touch Selina again, I swear to God I will kil//l you.”
Those were the last words I heard from my husband before a sharp, icy pressure tore through my abdomen.
My name is Mabel. Until that afternoon, I was foolish enough to believe my three-year marriage to Flynn could be saved. He was the CEO of Vance Global, and I had given up my career for him. But the rot in our marriage had a name: Selina Cole, his first love.
That afternoon, Selina burst through our front door in tears. There was nothing more than a superficial scratch on her forearm. Flynn was cutting an apple in the living room.
“Flynn… I didn’t want to come here,” she sobbed. “Mabel pushed me. She cornered me downtown. She tried to hurt me.”
I was in my silk pajamas. I hadn’t stepped outside all day. “That is an absolute lie, Flynn.”
But Flynn didn’t let me explain. The silver knife slipped from his hand onto the marble table. He picked it up, his eyes completely dead.
“Did you put your hands on her?!” he roared.
“No!”
Behind him, Selina whimpered. “Please, Flynn, just leave it alone. I don’t want you two fighting over me.”
That was all it took. The first plunge left me breathless. The second sent me crashing onto the Persian rug. I looked up, expecting him to drop the knife in horror. Instead, he stepped right over my collapsed body, knelt beside Selina, and draped his jacket over her shoulders.
“It’s okay now,” he whispered tenderly.
Selina glanced over his shoulder at me. Then, she smiled.
I wasn’t going to die just a victim. I let my eyes roll back and my body go limp, my left arm hidden beneath me. With agonizing slowness, I tapped my smartwatch twice.
Voice Memos. Record.
“She’s gone,” Flynn said hollowly. “I… I did it, Selina. Just like you said. We’re free.”
Three days later, I opened my eyes in the ICU.
Flynn entered my room carrying an enormous bouquet of white roses, looking disheveled, as if flowers could repair the severe internal trauma in my stomach. “Mabel…”
Dr. Marcus Reed stepped smoothly between us. “Mr. Vance, before you come any closer, there’s a medical reality you need to know.”
Flynn frowned. “I’m her husband. Get out of my way.”
“Exactly,” Dr. Reed said coldly. “Which makes this all the more tragic.”
He removed an ultrasound image from my chart and placed it on the tray. Two tiny silhouettes could clearly be seen… nestled side by side on the grainy image, each with the faint, unmistakable flicker of a heartbeat frozen mid-pulse on the printout.
“Twins,” Dr. Reed said again, quieter this time, as though the word itself might shatter something in the room. “Both lost during surgery. There was nothing we could do once the bleeding reached that stage.”
I said nothing. I didn’t need to. The silence between us said more than any accusation could have.
