Chapter 4

The sharp smell of alcohol in the air stung my nose as I slowly opened my eyes.

Looking around, I realized I was alone in the hospital room.

“You’re awake?”

The curtain was pulled back, and there he was—William Blake. His face was pale, his exhaustion evident.

“Where’s my mom?”

I asked calmly, my voice steady, but the question made his pupils tremble. He avoided my gaze and lowered his head.

“Where is she? William, where is my mom?”

I sat up abruptly, grabbing his shirt collar, my voice breaking as I shouted at him.

“Joanna, you need to rest,” he said, his voice soft but heavy. “You need to recover so you can prepare for the funeral. Your mom… she’s gone.”

Slap!

The sound of my hand striking his face echoed through the room.

“William Blake! You’re shameless!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face.

“Where were you? I called you ten times! Ten times! Why didn’t you answer? Where the hell were you?”

“I…” He opened his mouth but stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

Then it hit me, and I laughed bitterly.

“You were with her, weren’t you?”

His body stiffened, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at me.

“You think I don’t know?” I asked, tears blurring my vision. “Do you know what people think of us? They think we’re a happy couple, newly married and in love.”

“But I know the truth.” My voice cracked as I continued, “You bought a house for Sophie, didn’t you? You decorated it like it was your dream home with her.”

“All those nights you didn’t come home—you were staying there, weren’t you?”

“Why, William? Why would you do this to me? You should’ve never married me!”

“Give me back my mom! Give her back to me!”

I pounded my fists against his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, my cries so loud they drew the attention of the nurses.

His bloodshot eyes stayed on me the entire time, and he grabbed my wrists tightly, refusing to let go.

“And what about you, Joanna?” he said, his voice low and trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

“If you had told me…”

I let out a hollow laugh, looking up as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“And what difference would it have made, William? Did you forget what you said to me yesterday?”

“You told me not to have any delusions. Well, I listened to you.”

“The baby’s gone,” I said, my voice cold. “Isn’t that better for you?”

“You…” His brows furrowed as his grip on my wrist tightened, the pressure leaving red marks on my skin.

Finally, he let go, his voice softening.

“I’m sorry.”

It was the first time I’d ever heard him apologize. “I’m sorry, Joanna. This is all my fault.”

I stared down at the damp bedsheets under my knees, refusing to look at him.

“I’m tired, William,” I said quietly.

“Loving you is exhausting. Let’s get a divorce.”