---- Chapter 14 Jeremy Glass POV: The file landed on my desk with a heavy thud. | stared at it, my hand trembling as | reached to open it. It was the first report from my private investigator. My fingers fumbled with the clasp, spilling a dozen glossy photos across the mahogany. There she was. Haylie. She was sitting by a bedside, her face illuminated by the soft light from a large window. She was holding a man' s hand. She was reading to him, her expression soft, focused. In another photo, she was gently brushing his hair from his forehead, a small, sad smile on her lips. It was Elliot Meyers. Her new husband. A hot, jealous rage burned in my chest. Her hands, her smile, her gentle care-that all belonged to me. It had always belonged to me. | slammed my fist on the desk, the photos scattering. | had done this. | had pushed her away, right into the arms of another man. Even if he was in a coma, he was getting more of her than | was. He was getting her kindness. Her ---- compassion. Her presence. | picked up a photo, my thumb stroking her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, but her expression... it was peaceful. A calm | hadn't seen on her face in years. Even before the coma, there had been a tension in her, a constant effort to please me, to be perfect. That tension was gone. She looked... free. The thought was a knife in my gut. What if she was happier now? What if this sham marriage to a silent man was better than the real marriage she' d had with me? My phone buzzed. A text from Joselin. The doctor' s appointment went well! The baby is healthy. | miss you. Come home soon. xoxo The baby. Right after Haylie had left, Joselin had announced she was pregnant. The timing was almost too perfect. A new life to trap me, to bind me to her just as | was realizing | needed to break free. She had claimed the pregnancy was high-risk, that her uterine wall was too thin, that any stress could cause her to miscarry. Another chain, another layer of guilt But looking at the serene expression on Haylie' s face in the photograph, a seed of doubt, cold and sharp, began to sprout ---- in my mind. Joselin' s convenient pregnancy. Her "high-risk" condition that kept me tiptoeing around her. Her constant, cloying need for my attention. | remembered Haylie' s words from years ago, words | had dismissed as sisterly jealousy. "Be careful with her, Jeremy. She' s not as innocent as she looks. She lies." | had told Haylie she was being paranoid. | had defended Joselin. | had always, always taken Joselin' s side. My blood ran cold. What if Haylie had been right all along? | grabbed my phone, my fingers flying as | dialed my head of security. "| need a full background check on Joselin Camacho. Everything. And | mean everything. Medical records, phone records, financial statements. | want to know who she' s talked to, where she' s been, every single day for the past year." | hung up and stared at the photo of Haylie again. | saw the way Elliot Meyers' hand was limp in hers. | saw the array of medical machines surrounding him. | saw the quiet strength in her posture as she cared for a man who couldn't care for her back. She had done the same for me. She had sat by my bed. She had held my hand. She had given me a part of her own body. ---- And | had repaid her with the cruelest betrayal imaginable. A sudden, horrifying thought struck me. Joselin' s pregnancy. What if the baby... what if it wasn't mine? The dates lined up, but just barely. There had been that week | was out of the country on business... | shot up from my chair, a cold dread washing over me. | had to know. | raced to the hospital, bursting into the maternity ward and cornering Joselin' s obstetrician. "| need to see my wife's file," | demanded. "Her full medical chart." The doctor, a prim, older woman, looked at me over her glasses. "I'm sorry, Mr. Glass, but that' s confidential." | pulled out my checkbook. "I' m sure we can come to an arrangement." Minutes later, | was staring at a computer screen, my heart pounding in my ears. | clicked open Joselin' s latest ultrasound report. The dates, the measurements, it all looked correct. But then | saw it. A note in the file history. "Patient requested original report dated three weeks prior be deleted and replaced with current version." My world tilted on its axis. ---- | scrolled back, my hands shaking, until | found her initial intake forms. There, under pre-existing conditions, was a note from her previous physician. "Patient has a history of fabricating medical conditions for attention. Uterine wall thickness is normal. No discernible risk for pregnancy." A lie. It was alla lie.