Sweet Revenge

VIVIAN

"Congratulations, Mrs. Hill. Your blood work confirms you're pregnant."

Dr. Park's voice through my phone speaker freezes me in place as I sit in my parked car outside Patrick's office building. My free hand instinctively moves to my still-flat stomach.

Pregnant. Finally.

After three years of marriage and countless negative tests, it's happened. My vision blurs with tears I refuse to let fall. Not here. Not now. Not when I'm about to surprise Patrick with lunch and now the most incredible news of our lives.

I end the call and check my reflection in the rearview mirror, dabbing at my eyes. The woman staring back at me looks hopeful for the first time in months. Maybe this baby will change everything.

To the world, Patrick and I are the picture-perfect power couple—he, the brilliant businessman from the prestigious Hill family; me, the dutiful wife who stands by his side at every charity gala and corporate event. Our wedding photos still circulate in society magazines as the romantic union of the year.

What those glossy pages don't show is how he turns away when I reach for him at night. How conversations die when it's just the two of us. How our marriage has been nothing but a business arrangement orchestrated by my late father and his parents to merge family fortunes.

But a baby changes everything, doesn't it?

I grab the takeout bag from my favorite bistro—Patrick's preferred salmon salad and my chicken sandwich—and head into the imposing glass building that houses Hill Enterprises. The security guard nods in recognition as I pass.

"He's expecting you, Mrs. Hill?" he asks, eyebrow raised. I've never surprised Patrick at work before.

"It's a special occasion," I reply, unable to contain my smile.

The elevator ascends to the executive floor, my stomach fluttering with each passing number. When the doors open, Patrick's assistant looks up from her desk, startled.

"Mrs. Hill! Mr. Hill is—"

"Is he in a meeting? I won't take long," I say, already moving toward his office door.

"Actually, he asked not to be disturbed, but—"

I push open the door anyway, lunch bag held high. "Surprise! I thought we could—"

The words die in my throat. Patrick stands by the window, phone pressed to his ear, his back to me. His posture stiffens at my intrusion.

"I'll call you back," he says tersely into the phone before turning to face me. No smile. No warmth. Just that familiar look of mild irritation I've grown accustomed to.

"Vivian. What are you doing here?"

I hold up the bag. "I brought lunch. I thought we could eat together. I have something to tell you."

Patrick glances at his watch. "I have a conference call in twenty minutes."

"This won't take long," I promise, already unpacking the containers on his sleek desk. "I got your favorite."

He sighs but sits down across from me. For a moment, we eat in silence. I'm searching for the perfect words, the perfect way to tell him about our miracle, when he sets down his fork.

"Actually, this works out. I need to talk to you about something important."

My heart leaps. Has he sensed the change in me? Is he finally ready to make our marriage real?

"I've been meaning to have this conversation for weeks now," he continues, his voice oddly formal. "I've been putting it off, which isn't fair to either of us."

"Patrick, I—"

"Please, let me finish." He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a manila envelope. "Vivian, this marriage has never been what either of us truly wanted. It was arranged by our parents, and we've both been trying to make it work for their sake. But I can't continue living this lie."

The salmon in my mouth turns to ash. I force myself to swallow.

"What are you saying?"

"I've met someone." The words fall between us like stones. "Her name is Natalie. And she's pregnant."

The room tilts sideways. I grip the edge of his desk to steady myself.

"Pregnant," I repeat, the word hollow in my mouth.

"It wasn't planned," Patrick says, as if that somehow makes it better. "But when she told me, I realized I couldn't keep pretending with you. It wouldn't be fair to any of us."

I stare at him, this stranger I've shared a bed with for three years. "You've been having an affair."

"It started six months ago. I never meant for it to happen, but—"

"Six months?" My voice rises. "Half a year of lying to my face while sleeping with another woman?"

Patrick at least has the decency to look uncomfortable. "I didn't want to hurt you."

A laugh escapes me, harsh and bitter. "How considerate."

He slides the envelope toward me. "These are divorce papers. My lawyer drew them up. You'll find the settlement more than generous."

Divorce papers. While I carry his child. The irony would be comical if it weren't destroying my world.

"Patrick, we need to talk about this. We can't just—"

"There's nothing to discuss. I'm going to be a father, Vivian. I want to do right by Natalie and our baby."

Our baby. The words slice through me. What about our baby? The one growing inside me right now?

I should tell him. The words are on the tip of my tongue. But something stops me—perhaps the cold efficiency with which he's dismantling our marriage, or the way he said Natalie's name with more emotion than he's ever used when speaking mine.

"How far along is she?" I ask instead.

"Twelve weeks."

Three months. He's known for three months and kept it from me while planning his escape.

"And you love her." It's not a question.

Patrick meets my eyes for the first time. "I do. I'm sorry, Vivian. I never wanted to hurt you, but I can't keep living this lie. You deserve someone who loves you the way I love her."

My hand instinctively moves to my stomach before I catch myself. He doesn't notice.

"When?" My voice sounds distant, even to my own ears.

"When what?"

"When do you want me gone?"

Patrick shifts uncomfortably. "I've arranged for you to stay at The Westmore until you find a place. Your things are being packed as we speak."

"You're having me removed from our home? Today?" The audacity steals my breath.

"It seemed kinder than dragging this out. The settlement will more than cover—"

"Don't talk to me about kindness." I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. "You don't know the meaning of the word."

I grab my purse, leaving the half-eaten lunch spread across his desk. The divorce papers remain untouched.

"Vivian, please be reasonable. This is best for everyone."

I turn at the door, one hand resting protectively over my stomach where our child grows, unknown to him.

"You know what, Patrick? You're right about one thing. I do deserve better than you."

His expression flickers with surprise at my calm defiance.

"The papers," he reminds me, gesturing to the envelope.

"Have them sent to The Westmore. I'll look them over with my lawyer." I straighten my shoulders. "But know this—you're making the biggest mistake of your life."

He thinks I'm being dramatic, that I'm referring to losing him. Let him think that.

As I walk through the office, past his startled assistant and into the elevator, a strange calm settles over me. By the time I reach my car, I've made my decision.

Patrick Hill will never know about this baby. He's made his choice, chosen his family. This child—my child—deserves better than a father who discarded its mother without a second thought.

I place my hand on my stomach and make a silent promise to the tiny life inside me.

"It's just us now. And we're going to be just fine."

As I drive away from Hill Enterprises, I don't look back. Patrick has his new beginning with Natalie. And I have mine, growing with every heartbeat inside me.