...
I became more frantic as I waited for Clyde, my four-month baby bump prominent under my loose-fitting dress. Anxiety gnawed at me as the hours ticked by.
Finally, the door opened.
Clyde entered, his expression worn.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Where were you?" I asked.
Silence.
"What happened with Anissa?"
Clyde's eyes avoided mine.
I felt a chill.
"Tell me," I pressed.
He remained silent.
Tears welled up.
I sobbed uncontrollably.
Clyde's arms enveloped me.
"What's wrong?" he whispered.
"You're scaring me," I stammered.
He took a deep breath.
"Anissa's pregnant."
Two months.
My mind reeled.
They weren't divorced yet.
"How could this happen?" I asked.
Clyde's eyes dropped.
"That last time..." he muttered.
"Before we separated."
Betrayal stung.
Pain sliced through me as I remembered that betrayal... thankfully I found out I was already two months pregnant after that incident happened.
Our future.
Now uncertain.
"But you're still married," I said.
Clyde nodded.
"I know."
His voice cracked.
"I'll fix this."
But doubts crept in.
Was I just a replacement?
Would he return to Anissa?
Our unborn child.
Would Clyde choose us?
Or his obligations?
As night descended, I settled into contemplation, the city's twinkling lights outside my window a stark contrast to the turmoil within. Memories of Anissa's manipulation swirled, a maelstrom of emotions threatening to consume me.
Clyde's promise echoed in my mind: "I'll never leave you, Dahlia." Yet, doubt lingered.
In the stillness, resolve crystallized.
That child, a tangible tie binding Clyde to his past, had to be freed from Anissa's grasp.
But harm an innocent? Unthinkable.
Selfish, perhaps, but I'd ensure the child's well-being.
Strategic planning supplanted rage.
Schemes unfolded like a tapestry.
Adoption.
Foster care.
A loving family.
Far from Anissa's toxic influence.
Far from Clyde's lingering guilt.
My heart rate slowed.
Purpose replaced anxiety.
I rose, slipped back into bed, and snuggled close to Clyde.
Together, we'd navigate this labyrinth.
...
Five months later
As I stepped into Anissa's opulent mansion, my golden dress shimmered like sunlight, radiating confidence and triumph. My swollen belly, proudly displayed, preceded me, a beacon of joy and love. The soft fabric hugged my curves, accentuating my ripe pregnancy.
Anissa's eyes widened in shock, her pupils dilating as she took in my radiant appearance. Her gaze locked onto my bump, her face paling.
"Nine months," I announced, my voice dripping with pride.
Anissa's lips parted, her words caught in her throat. Her seven-month pregnancy seemed almost insignificant compared to mine. I noticed her exhaustion, the dark circles under her eyes, her sunken cheeks.
For a fleeting moment, sympathy flickered within me. But memories of her manipulation, her relentless pursuit of Clyde, stifled it.
"You thought keeping this child would guarantee Clyde's return?" I asked, amusement dancing on my lips.
Anissa's eyes dropped, shame and guilt etched on her face.
"Clyde's been pampering me," I continued, my voice dripping with satisfaction. "He's made sure my pregnancy has been nothing short of luxurious."
I paused, studying Anissa's reaction.
"Has he checked on you even once?"
Her head hung, a silent confirmation.
I savored the moment, my triumph.
"Dragon Villa," I said, my voice filled with pride.
"The most expensive villa in the country."
Clyde's and my love nest.
Anissa's eyes snapped up, envy and longing burning within them.
I dangled the heart necklace, the diamond glinting in the light.
"Clyde's token of love," I whispered.
Symbolizing our unbreakable bond.
Anissa's face contorted, pain and loss etched on her features.
I stood, unwavering, victorious.
"Clyde's moved on," I declared.
"He's chosen me, our child."
Anissa's eyes filled with tears.
"You'll never have him again."
The words hung in the air.