The Breaking Point

POV: Valeria.

I remained immobilized on the cold hardwood floor of the foyer. My hand clutched my stinging cheek as a wave of pure shock washed over my body. Over the agonizing years of our marriage, Roman had consistently neglected me emotionally. He mistreated me verbally time and time again, tearing down my self-esteem with his cruel words. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think he would raise his hand in physical violence against me. Until today. The sharp ringing in my ear served as a brutal reminder of his betrayal.

Through tear-filled eyes, I looked up. Sylvia was already masterfully playing the role of the innocent, fragile victim on the floor beside the grand staircase. She cradled her shoulder and let out small, pathetic whimpers.

"I never imagined she could be this fundamentally evil." Sylvia stammered. Her voice dripped with feigned innocence and sheer terror.

Roman nodded in agreement. His cold, merciless eyes turned directly toward me. He glared at my form trembling on the floor, treating me like a stranger rather than his wife. "Apologize to her right now."

"She does not have to apologize, Roman. I am fine." Sylvia murmured softly, playing the forgiving saint with sickening precision.

"No, she has to make amends. She pushed you." Roman insisted.

Desperation clawed at my throat. I had to defend myself against these false allegations. I could not let her paint me as the villain in my own home.

"I did not push her. She was the one holding onto me, and all I did was try to free my own hand." I frantically explained.

Roman's voice was laced with pure fury as he cut me off. "Are you seriously still denying your crime?"

Sensing total victory, Sylvia smoothly spun her intricate web of lies even further.

"You pushed me, Valeria. I merely wanted you to call Roman down for work because my phone is off. I didn't want to disrespect your boundaries and go to your bedroom. You are still his wife, after all. But it is fine. I forgive your cruelty." Sylvia declared sweetly.

A fierce, primal rage boiled within me. Watching my own husband blindly and eagerly swallow her blatant deceit made my chest heave. I wanted to tear her eyes out for what she was doing to my life.

Sylvia looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Roman has an important meeting to attend. Let us not waste any more precious time on her."

"You are right. We are far from done, Valeria. I will deal with you when I get back." Roman readily agreed, glaring down at me with deep contempt.

Without a backward glance, he wrapped his arm around Sylvia. She immediately pretended to limp, leaning her weight against his chest. He carefully helped her toward the front door. The sight shattered my heart into a million irreparable pieces. He explicitly chose to believe his mistress's lies over his own wife's desperate truths.

The heavy front door clicked shut.

I was left alone in the massive foyer. I placed my palms flat against the wood and attempted to sit up. A sudden, razor-sharp pain struck deep within my stomach.

"Ah!" I cried out in genuine agony.

I curled inward and clutched my abdomen. My mind raced to find a logical explanation. I initially assumed the severe cramp was the direct result of having barely eaten anything substantial for over a week. The crushing stress of my failing marriage had ruined my appetite, leaving me surviving on mere sips of water and tea.

Hot tears streamed down my face. I gritted my teeth and made a second, determined attempt to stand. I needed to get to the kitchen. Before I could even lift my knees, another piercing, blinding agony shot straight down my thighs. The terrible sensation radiated through my lower back, forcing me right back down onto the hard floor.

"Roman? Please help me." I called out weakly.

My pathetic voice echoed into the empty room. I knew he was gone, but the sheer physical desperation made me beg to the quiet walls. We had given up our personal security guards months ago to save face for his mother. Roman had promised to hire new ones, but he never bothered to follow through. That meant I was terrifyingly alone in this massive, silent house.

My trembling knees gave out beneath me. I curled up tightly into a ball. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately waiting for the agonizing wave of pain to pass.

Suddenly, the distinct sound of the front door opening echoed through the hall. Panic gripped my chest. I was terrified that Roman had returned solely to hurl more cruel, baseless accusations at me. I dreaded him thinking I was faking my pain just to get his attention.

Instead, a woman’s soft hand reached down and grabbed my arm. I forced my eyes open and looked up. It was Lydia. She was the wife of Roman’s best friend, Damon. She was a prominent socialite who had historically never made any effort to hide her intense social disdain for me. During past evening events, she would openly mock my background, and Roman would merely laugh at my weakness.

Lydia crossed her arms and stared down at me. "I was knocking at the door and no one answered. Are you okay? Not that I care about your wellbeing. I am only here to speak directly to Roman. I went to the apartment where he has been staying, but he wasn't there."

Intensely aware that she was just as unsympathetic and cruel as my husband, I attempted to brush off her uninvited presence. I refused to show my vulnerability to someone who despised me.

"I am fine. I just need a moment to sit." I lied through my teeth.

Lydia sighed loudly. She reluctantly offered her physical support to help me up. I grabbed her forearm, gritting my teeth against the throbbing ache in my back.

The exact moment I shifted my body weight to stand, Lydia let out a sudden, blood-curdling scream.

She jerked her hand away and pointed downward. "You are bleeding!"

With great physical difficulty, I forced my heavy head to look down. A horrifying pool of thick, dark blood stained my thigh. The stark red color against my pale skin made my breath hitch in my throat. My pulse began to race wildly. The sound of my own frantic heartbeat pounded in my ears like a heavy drum.

My frantic mind forcefully scrambled through the dates on my calendar. I realized I missed my period last month. As the terrifying realization hit me, the truth became even darker. I recognized I had missed two entire months. I had forgotten about my cycle amidst the crushing misery and daily torment of my failing marriage.

Lydia took a massive step back, her perfectly manicured hands covering her mouth. Her eyes widened in deep shock as she stared at the floor.

"Were you pregnant?" She asked.

Her deliberate use of the past tense made my rapidly beating heart skip a beat. *Were.* I had not possessed the slightest inkling that I was carrying a child. I lived in total ignorance of the precious life growing inside me.

If I truly was pregnant, did this horrific amount of blood mean I had just lost my baby? I stared at the thick, dark stain expanding on the hardwood. If I did lose the baby right here on this spot, there was only one undeniable reason. Sylvia was the direct physical cause of my fall. She had grabbed my shirt and pulled me down with her just to frame me.

A terrifying realization dawned on my shattered mind, freezing the blood in my veins.

She killed my baby.