CHAPTER ONE: A Wife's Suspicion
When I stood at the altar, exchanging vows with the man I believed was the love of my life, I thought I was stepping into a fairytale. Little did I know that behind the veil of promises and sweet words, a nightmare awaited me. Instead of the warm embrace of marital bliss, I found myself enveloped in the cold clutches of abusive in-laws who made my every breath a struggle. My husband, the one who was supposed to be my refuge, turned out to be the architect of my heartbreak, seeking comfort in the arms of another. Each day felt like a descent into hell.
---------------------------------
CATHERINE’S POV:
As the soft morning light filters through the curtains, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, clutching a small white stick in my trembling hand. I hold my breath as I watch the indicator slowly appear, my heart pounding with anticipation.
And then, there it is—a faint pink line, barely visible against the white background. Tears of joy well up in my eyes as the realization washes over me.
I am pregnant!
A rush of emotions floods through me—excitement, disbelief, and overwhelming happiness. With a beaming smile, I dash out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
"Elijah!" I call out.
Elijah turns around at the sound of my voice. His eyes widen in surprise as he senses the radiant glow on my aura.
"What happened?" he asks.
I hold up the pregnancy test, then exclaim, "We're going to have a baby!"
Elijah's expression transforms into one of pure happiness as he rushes towards me, enveloping me in a tight embrace with his muscular arms.
"That's incredible news!" he exclaims, his voice filled with joy.
We stand in each other's arms, and I feel like I’m floating on air, my heart overflowing with love for the man I adore. But then reality intrudes, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a candle flame. Elijah glances at the clock on the wall and sighs regretfully.
"I have to leave for work now," he says, his voice tinged with disappointment.
My smile falters for a moment, but I quickly reassures him, understanding the demands of our financial situation. Elijah is the sole provider for our family, supporting not only me but also his aging parents. On top of that, he’s also shouldering his parents’ mortgage loan since we’re both living with them. He works long hours, often leaving early in the morning and returning late at night, with only one day off each week.
"It's okay," I say, forcing a steady smile. "I understand. Go and do what you need to do. We'll celebrate properly when you get back."
Elijah's expression softens with gratitude as he hugs me tightly once more.
"Thank you, Catherine," he whispers. "I promise we'll make this work. For us, and for our baby."
Elijah reluctantly leaves for work, disappearing through the door. Just when I’m already hearing his car purring to life, a phone sitting atop the bedside table rings. I reach out to it and realize that it’s Elijah’s.
He must have forgotten it.
The phone rings again, but I can’t bring myself to answer the call.
What if it’s something important?
I enter Elijah’s password which is our wedding date. The call drops before the screen could unlock, but a text message soon comes in from the same caller. The caller ID displays—'nobody'.
Nobody? That’s weird. Why would he name this person ‘nobody’?
With a quick swipe of my thumb, I open the text message.
-Can't wait to see you again, darling. Can you drop by at 7/11 and buy some c.ondoms? We’re gonna need some. The one you used last night is the last one I had.-
My eyes widen in shock. The air seems to constrict around me as the implications of the message sinks in. My mind races, grappling with the possibility of betrayal.
Could Elijah be cheating on me?
The thought is like a dagger to my heart, slicing through my trust and leaving behind a gaping wound. But even as doubt gnaws at me, I can’t just believe a text message—not without concrete proof.
Swallowing back the rising tide of fear and uncertainty, I spring into action. Snatching up my well-worn coat, I dash downstairs and out of the house, my heart hammering in my chest. As I reach the street, Elijah's car is already pulling away, disappearing around the corner.
I hail a passing taxi, quickly slides into its backseat, then says to the driver, “Follow that silver Toyota, please.”
The taxi speeds through the city streets. The cityscape blurs past the taxi windows, a chaotic reflection of my inner turmoil. I clutch Elijah's phone in my trembling hands, desperately hoping for an innocent explanation to the message, and silently praying that the text is a mistake, a mix-up in numbers or an unfortunate coincidence. Yet, a heavy feeling in my chest betrayed the sinking suspicion that I couldn't shake.
The taxi pulls up in front of the Oasis Condominium when Elijah's car slips through its gates.
Why is Elijah here? He’s supposed to be at work! Is he meeting anyone here? Does he know anyone here aside from Layla?
My sudden suspicion against him and Layla crops up in my head, making my heart pound even more aggressively.
I pay the driver, then climb down the taxi in a rush. The Toyota’s familiar silver frame pulls into the parking space. I take a deep breath, my determination hardening as I step onto the smooth pavement. Elijah gets down from his car and I cautiously follow him towards the glass entrance.
The cool lobby welcomes me with polished marble floors and the soft hum of an elegant chandelier overhead. Elijah's figure moves ahead, still oblivious to me trailing him. I press myself against the wall and watch Elijah meeting Layla.
Layla and I, we're more than just friends; we treat each other like sisters. She and I entrusted each other with our deepest secrets, our wildest dreams. She even gave me the passcode to her condo unit, so I can drop by anytime, day or night, whether she's here or not. That's the kind of trust and closeness we share, the kind that doesn't need constant validation or reassurance. But now, I’m questioning if everything we have is real or just my delusion.
Please, I hope I’m just overreacting, coz if my suspicion is right, then it’ll absolutely break me, kill me even!
Elijah and Layla enter an elevator, the doors closing with a hushed swoosh. Panic clenches at my chest, but I steel myself and press the button for the next elevator. After a few seconds which feels like eternity, the doors slide open at the 15th floor, revealing the corridor leading to Layla's unit.
I prowl like a desperate yet fearful predator, my steps barely echoing in the empty corridor. As I approach the door, hushed voices reach my ears—laughter intertwined with familiarity. I wait until there’s nothing but silent on the other side.
My fingers tremble as I punch in Layla's code, the numbers flashing on the keypad like accusing eyes. The door clicks open, granting my access. The living area greets me with empty silence, the stillness broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning. My attention is quickly drawn towards the distant sounds of laughter and whispered conversations drifting from the closed bedroom door.
I step onto the balcony, which is also accessible from the bedroom. Then I peer through the glass door that separates the balcony and the bedroom. And, there it is - a glimpse of Elijah and Layla entwined on the bed, their features illuminated by the golden rays of the sun. His muscular body over her slender one. His tanned skin against her ivory one. The sight strikes me like a physical blow, the breath catching in my throat as I watch them lost in each other's embrace.
No! How could they do this to me?!
Tears sting my eyes, my body paralyzing, my mind throbbing.
Layla's voice, tinged with bitterness and resentment, pierces through their moans.
"When are you going to leave Catherine?"
Elijah's response is a low chuckle, the sound sending a wave of nausea crashing over me.
Layla's voice grows sharper, laced with a venomous edge. "I still don't understand why you chose her over me. I could give you so much more than she ever could. I have a stable career, a successful life. I could take care of you and your parents in ways she never could."
I begin to compare myself to Layla, my mind racing with the stark differences between us. Layla is a college graduate, a successful news anchor in a prestigious TV station, while I had been forced to abandon my dreams of higher education after losing my parents, left to fend for myself in a world that seems determined to break me.
"Let’s not talk about Catherine," Elijah says, his tone calm yet firm.
Layla's eyes flash with indignation, her jaw set in defiance.
"But Elijah, I've done everything to show you that I'm capable of giving you the life you deserve. I can’t be your mistress forever," she protests, her voice tinged with frustration.
Elijah reaches out, gently caressing Layla's face. Layla's expression softens, her anger dissipating. Soon enough, they entangle their bodies with each other again, their moans start to reverberate too.
Tears refuse to stop rolling down my face as pain and disbelief grips me like a vice, each passionate kiss and shared laughter an assault on the reality I once knew. Even so, I refuse to be defeated like this, to let their deceit go unnoticed and unchallenged!
With trembling hands, I retrieve Elijah’s phone from my pocket. With each click of the shutter and press of the record button, I capture the painful truth unfolding before my eyes.