Malcolm's fingers trembled as he answered the phone, his usual stoic demeanor faltering when the soft, familiar voice flowed through the receiver.
"Malcolm…" Stephanie's voice carried a tremor, almost as though she was unsure whether she should speak.
Malcolm froze, his breath hitching like a deer caught in headlights. "Stephanie," he whispered, her name a balm and a blade in his mouth.
"I heard you got married…" Stephanie's words were tentative, accompanied by the faintest sniffle. "Congratulations."
It was as though the air had been knocked out of him. "Stephanie…" Malcolm began, his voice raw with emotion. Memories of her flooded his mind—her laughter, her touch, her betrayal. And yet, despite it all, she lingered like a ghost he couldn't exorcise.
"I missed you," she added softly, her words fragile but potent enough to pierce the armor Malcolm had tried so hard to build.
"I missed you too," he admitted, his tone cracked and vulnerable. He fought back the tears threatening to spill over. "You're everywhere, Steph. Even in my dreams."
Stephanie's laugh was quiet, tinged with sorrow.
Malcolm's declaration struck Lucia like a physical blow. Stirred awake by his loud voice, she froze under the duvet, her heart pounding furiously as she listened to his confession. Every word he spoke was a knife, and by the time he admitted that he could never love anyone else, she felt a sharp, irreversible break inside her.
"…She's just a replacement, Steph. No one could ever take your place in my heart," Malcolm added, his words ringing in the silence of the room.
Lucia pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob threatening to escape. Her chest ached with a mix of anger and despair. She forced herself to stay still, but the tears streamed freely down her cheeks.
How dare he? Even if their marriage was nothing more than a contract, even if they both despised the circumstances, did he have to humiliate her like this? He didn't even try to hide it from her.
Lucia clenched her fists under the covers and willed herself not to cry any louder. She bit her lip so hard it bled. No, she wouldn't let him see her broken. This was the same man who had whispered at the altar—under the pretense of a kiss—that their marriage was nothing but a farce.
"I will never love you," he had hissed. "Six months, and we'll divorce. Just play the part until then."
His cruelty wasn't new, but this moment felt like a fresh wound.
---
The sun crept into the room far too soon, chasing away what little sleep Lucia managed to steal in the early hours of the morning. She stared at the ceiling, her mind a whirlwind of last night's events.
A knock at the door jolted her, and before she could answer, Dorothy Sterling stepped in with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Lucia," Dorothy greeted, her presence lighting up the room. "I wanted to talk to you about something important."
Lucia sat up and forced a smile, though her face felt stiff. "Good morning, Mrs. Sterling."
"Dorothy," she corrected gently, sitting beside her. She took Lucia's hands in her own, her gaze motherly and kind. "I know this marriage was sudden, and adjusting to it must be difficult. But trust me when I say, love has a way of growing where you least expect it. Give Malcolm time."
Lucia fought to keep her composure. She wanted to scream that there was no love to be found, that Malcolm didn't want her, and that she didn't care to want him either.
"I also want to let you know," Dorothy continued, "that I'm looking forward to the day you make me a grandmother. I'm not getting any younger, you know."
Lucia's stomach dropped. She could barely stomach the thought of staying in this marriage for six months, let alone bringing a child into it. She nodded politely, unable to summon words.
"And don't forget," Dorothy added with a grin, "the family dinner on the last Saturday of every month is a tradition. It's important for you and Malcolm to attend."
"I'll keep that in mind," Lucia said softly, masking her turmoil with a faint smile.
---
The farewell from the Sterling family was warm, almost suffocatingly so. Lucia was hugged, kissed, and bombarded with well-wishes, even though she felt like an imposter. She plastered on a smile, holding back tears as Dorothy hugged her tightly.
"We'll see you soon, darling," Dorothy said warmly.
Lucia nodded, biting her tongue to keep from blurting out the truth about their fractured marriage.
As the car pulled away from the estate, the warmth of the family began to dissipate, replaced by a cold tension that filled the small space. Malcolm sat beside her, his gaze distant, as though she weren't even there.
Midway through the drive, Malcolm's voice cut through the silence. "Morgan, stop the car."
The driver, Morgan, Malcolm's trusted right-hand man, obeyed without question. The car rolled to a halt by the side of the road.
Malcolm turned to Lucia, his expression unreadable. "Get out."
Lucia blinked, stunned. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Malcolm said, his tone flat but firm.
Lucia's chest tightened. She glanced at Morgan, who avoided her gaze, his expression carefully neutral.
Swallowing her pride, she opened the car door and stepped out. The cold air bit at her skin, but she didn't dare show any weakness. She squared her shoulders and stared straight ahead.
The car door slammed shut behind her, and as it sped away, she realized she wasn't even angry. What was the point? She knew exactly where Malcolm was headed. Stephanie.
Lucia let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and broken. "Of course," she whispered to herself.
She wrapped her arms around herself, standing alone on the side of the road. She was just an unloved wife, discarded the moment her husband found something—someone—better to occupy his time.
She had known this marriage would never bring her happiness, but she hadn't expected the depths of humiliation that would come with it.
Lucia lifted her chin and began walking. The bitterness in her heart burned hotter with every step. If Malcolm thought he had won, he was wrong. She might be unloved, but she wasn't powerless.
Not yet.