Around here, I have a nickname: "Liam's lapdog."

We were childhood sweethearts, but I basically forced him to marry me.

After the wedding, he treated me like ice, but I acted like I didn't care.

Today is our third wedding anniversary. I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a post from Claire Foster, his old flame: "Apart for so long, but thank goodness you were always there."

The picture? A candlelight dinner. Liam's profile was unmistakable.

I liked the post and commented: "Wishing you both the best."

The next second, my phone rang. It was Liam.

"Stop obsessing over stupid stuff online," he snapped. "Tonight's Claire's welcome home party. Everyone's having a good time."

Then I heard him turn away from the phone. "Don't mind her," he said to Claire. "She's always been petty like that."

Yeah. Petty enough to love him my entire youth. In that instant, something snapped. I was finally awake.

1.

Liam didn't get home until the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol. He collapsed onto the sofa. "Ava, get over here."

He always did this. Come home, demand I untie his tie. He'd get pissed if I wasn't there.

Martha, our housekeeper, told me once he'd also come home drunk, sat on the sofa, and just waited for me until god knows when because I was out.

I rubbed my eyes, dragged myself downstairs, and undid his tie. As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm.

He pulled a small jewelry box from his pocket. "Claire wanted me to give this to you. Said she was worried you'd misunderstand. She felt so bad she rushed out to buy it right after dinner."

I opened it. A cheap bracelet. I managed a small smile. "Wow, she really shouldn't have. Found this at the gift shop downstairs from the restaurant, huh?"

Liam wasn't amused. "What's that supposed to mean? It's the thought that counts. It shows she values you."

I stared at the obviously plastic charm dangling from the chain and had to bite back laughter.

Liam leaned closer, sniffing the air around me with disgust. "Ava, haven't I told you to shower when you get sweaty? Why don't you ever listen?"

Liam's a neat freak. After we got married, he demanded I always smell fresh. Even in summer, if I broke a sweat, I had to shower immediately.

Tonight, my emotions were too raw. I’d gone for a run earlier, trying to clear my head, then just sat staring out the window for hours after I got back.

Usually, I'd jump to do whatever he said.

But right then, I just froze.

Seeing me motionless, he gave me a shove. "Ava, what are you spacing out for? Go shower, then make me some detox tea."

After I made the tea, he suggested, "Since Claire got you a gift, you should return the favor tomorrow. Go shopping, pick something out. It's important to reciprocate."

I shot him a look. "How about I take her out for a nice meal too? You know, soothe her wounded feelings?"

Before I could blink, Liam handed me his phone. "Call her yourself and set it up. She's probably still awake."

Married three years, and Liam never gave a damn about my schedule. But Claire's? He knew it by heart.

2.

When I didn't move, Liam dialed her number himself and put it on speaker. Claire picked up almost instantly. "Hey there, handsome," she cooed. "Home already and missing me?"

I cringed so hard my toes curled. Mortifying.

Liam saw my expression darken and quickly took the phone off speaker, walking away to murmur a few things privately.

I turned to go upstairs, but he grabbed me again after hanging up.

His face was tight with annoyance. "What's your problem now? She was drunk, just joking around."

I just nodded. "Mm-hmm."

That seemed to piss him off more. He shoved me hard. I lost my balance and banged my knee against the edge of the sofa.

Blood instantly welled up.

I have hemophobia – I get faint at the sight of blood. Liam knows this. He panicked. "Okay, sit down, sit down! I'll get the first-aid kit."

He frantically rummaged through it for gauze, but there wasn't even a scrap left.

"When did this first-aid kit get so empty?" he muttered, annoyed.

I didn't tell him I'd used the last of the gauze the day before when I cut my finger making the steak dinner he wanted.

I didn't want him to think I was being dramatic.

He knelt, disinfected the cut, and then said, "Maybe I should take you to the pharmacy? Get some more gauze, maybe some antiseptic wipes."

The thought of medicine made my stomach clench.

I gently touched my belly. Over a month now.

I’d waited for our anniversary, hoping… but he wasn't even here.

Tonight, I’d desperately wanted a drink to numb the ache, but I couldn’t decide about the baby yet. So I resisted.

Claire posted last week: He says I'm always clumsy and getting bruised, so he thoughtfully put together a first-aid kit just for me.

Thinking about that now… the contrast.

I was the one who stocked everything in this house. Sometimes he’d find his shaving cream empty and yell at me.

"Is this how you play the good wife? You can't even keep track of basic necessities?"

Back then, I’d just lower my head and apologize, terrified he’d get angry and storm out.

When he got mad, he wouldn't just block my number; he'd disappear for days.

He wouldn't come back until I used Martha's phone to text him apologies until he felt satisfied. Then he might text back: "I'll be home for dinner tonight. Make it early."

Of course, he'd only show up maybe four out of ten times he said that. Sometimes I'd just sit there, staring at a table full of cold food, my eyes stinging.

I nodded now. "Okay, let's go together. I could use a fruit smoothie anyway."

Liam pinched my waist. "Look at the time! And smoothies? What wife weighs over 130 pounds after getting married? Would it kill you to skip a snack?"

I've always had a larger frame. Honestly, I watch my weight carefully.

But Liam always compared me to his secretaries, his friends' girlfriends.

The cruelest was when he said, "If it wasn't an arranged marriage to save my family's company, do you think I would've looked twice at you?"

Yeah. Back then, Walker Corp was tanking because of a shareholder scandal. My family proposed the marriage alliance.

Liam was still moping because Claire had run off overseas chasing some other guy. His parents jumped at the offer.

From dating to marriage, it all happened in less than a year.

I knew he didn't like me. Maybe even found me repulsive.

Sex was like clocking in for a shift. Our parents were desperate for grandkids, so around my ovulation time, he’d grudgingly perform his husbandly duties for a few days.

We’d just gotten into the car when Liam’s phone rang again.

It was Claire, sounding weak on the other end. "Liam… I think I have that stomach bug again… throwing up, diarrhea… can you come get me? Please?"

Liam glanced at me, then told me to get out of the car. I grabbed his wrist, pointed at my bleeding knee. "You said you were taking me to get bandages."

His face turned cold. "It's just a scratch, Ava. Deal with it yourself. Claire sounds really sick; she might need the ER. Don't be so selfish!"

No matter how I pleaded, his expression stayed hard as he practically dragged me out of the car.

"Just grab a cab or something," he said dismissively. "Buying bandages isn't rocket science."

Buying bandages isn't hard, no. But he forgot that the sight of blood makes me tremble uncontrollably, makes my heart pound like crazy.

Watching his taillights disappear, my heart plunged into an icy abyss.

3.

I knew Liam wouldn't be back tonight. I ordered takeout, along with gauze and antiseptic wipes.

Every time Claire called Liam away, she’d almost always post about it later.

I waited, eventually falling asleep, but no Instagram notification popped up.

I thought about it again and decided against taking the allergy meds for the hives that always broke out when my hemophobia kicked in.

I fell into an itchy, restless sleep, only jolted awake by a specific notification sound on my phone.

The one I'd set just for Claire's posts.

I rubbed my eyes. A new picture: Claire in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV.

Liam had bought her a hot water bottle, heating pads, even ginger tea. You could see the dark circles under his eyes; he looked exhausted.

I remembered a beach trip Liam took me on with his friends. I was on my period and didn't want to go in the water. He'd grabbed my hand and pulled me into the ocean anyway. "When did you get so dramatic?" he'd snapped. "We're all out here having fun, who are you sulking for?"

His friends all stared at me.

"I'm just not feeling well today," I'd mumbled, embarrassed. "I was going to rest on the sand."

But Liam wouldn't let go of my hand. That night, I was doubled over in bed with cramps, begging him to get me some painkillers.

He'd been completely annoyed. "Why are you always so much trouble? Where am I supposed to find that stuff this late? Just tough it out."

He had no idea how bad period pain could be. I spent the whole night sweating and shivering, listening to his steady breathing beside me.

The next morning, he actually laughed at me. "Wow, you got ugly overnight. Hurry up and put some makeup on."

He had such high standards for me. Controlled what I wore, even my accessories.

Sometimes I'd buy jewelry I loved and show him, but he'd always scoff. "Your taste is just so… tacky."

But Claire wore similar styles all the time.

And he'd comment under her posts: Looks great on you.

Claire was a minor influencer, always shooting daily vlogs since college. This hospital post was the first time she'd shown Liam's full face clearly.

The comments poured in.

"OMG, is that your BF? He's so hot!"

"Hot AND rich! Isn't that watch like, over $100k? #Goals, girl, so jealous!"

"Are you sick?? And the handsome CEO stayed with you all night? It's real love, confirmed!"

...

The comment that stung the most was from Liam's burner account: Such a big girl, still can't take care of yourself. Silly goose.

Silly goose. So intimate.

Even though Liam's burner account only reposted sports highlights, I’d found it.

He’d logged in on the tablet once and forgotten to log out. I quietly followed him.

At first, I told myself he just wanted privacy from his official, verified account. But then I saw his comments on Claire's posts.

I realized how naive I’d been.

This wasn't just innocent interaction. They were practically flaunting it, just hiding it slightly.

In all these years, Liam had never even made me a cup of hot tea for cramps, let alone stayed up all night. He complained if I asked him to blend a smoothie when he was making one for himself.

Seeing that post, tears welled up automatically.

4.

The doctor said my progesterone levels were unstable and told me to come back for a follow-up in a week.

I dragged myself out of bed the next morning. Before I could even leave, Liam walked in, looking exhausted.

He tossed his jacket at me. "Go get me some breakfast. I'm dead tired. Need to eat and crash."

Last night, I’d texted my best friend, Sarah Davis, planning to meet her at the hospital at 9 AM.

I hate flaking on plans. I pushed his jacket back. "Order delivery. I have to go out."

Liam grabbed my chin, studying my face. "You're not still pissed about yesterday, are you? It's been a whole night."

Right. That was Liam's way. He knew I was angry, but he always gave me the silent treatment, assuming time would fix everything.

I laughed humorlessly. "It's in the past."

His expression soured. "Ava, why are you always like this? Who are you trying to punish with that sour face first thing in the morning?"

Seeing my jaw clench, he knelt, looking at my bandaged knee. "Does it still hurt? Want me to take you to the clinic to get it properly cleaned?"

I took two steps back. "It's been a whole night," I said flatly. "What's the point of saying that now?"

"I'm fine." I turned away, unable to look at him.

Liam stood up, his tone chilling. "Maybe I should take you to the hospital anyway. Just so you don't run complaining to Mom and Dad that I don't care about you."

I took a deep breath. His parents had asked me a few times how Liam treated me.

I remembered always saying he was great, just really busy, so we didn't see each other much.

How did that translate to me "complaining" in his mind?

"Well, it's the truth, isn't it?" I snapped back. "I got hurt, and you just left me there."

Liam pointed a finger at me, his voice rising. "Ava, can you please try to be reasonable? How many times do I have to explain?"

I didn't say anything. I just opened Instagram and pulled up Claire's hospital post.

Liam froze for a second, then started explaining. "She just likes posting stuff, building her followers. Can't you just let her have this? Besides, random strangers online don't know who we are."

He reached for my hand. "Look, Claire was really sick last night. Her parents aren't around. I couldn't just leave her. You have to understand."

I looked at his calm face. "It's fine," I said tonelessly. "She was sick, weak. Of course, you should stay with her."

Hearing this, Liam smiled, squeezing my hand. "I'm glad you're not upset."

Just then, I noticed a faint red mark on his neck, trying to hide under his collar.

A year ago, even a month ago, I would have exploded. Screamed, demanded answers.

But now? I calmly pointed to it. "You might want to cover that up better. You're usually so careful about your image."

A flash of panic crossed Liam's eyes. He bolted to the bathroom mirror. "Don't get the wrong idea!" he called out. "It's just a mosquito bite from the hospital yesterday! You know how sensitive my skin is."

I nodded slowly. "Are you heading out now? Need a ride to get breakfast?"

Liam happily hopped into the passenger seat. We hadn't even reached the breakfast spot when his phone rang again.

Distracted for just a second, I slammed on the brakes too late and hit a stone pillar.

Instantly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen.

I gripped Liam's hand tightly. "Call 911! Quick! My stomach hurts!"

His phone was still ringing incessantly.

He frowned, answered it. Hearing Claire say her stomach bug was back, he prepared to jump out and grab a cab to her place, leaving me behind.

"Liam, don't go!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "I'm bleeding..."

He glanced at me dismissively. "Stop being dramatic, Ava. What a lame excuse. Claire has a stomach bug, so suddenly you have stomach pain too? Are you trying to copy her now?"

I grabbed his sleeve, desperate. "Please," I begged. "Stay with me. I'm pregnant. I'm really bleeding."

Liam yanked his arm away. "Stop lying!" he snarled. "Don't you think I'd know if you were pregnant?"

His words hit me like a physical blow. My body went rigid, and I crumpled to the ground.

Blood pooled beneath me, spreading like a dark, slow-blooming flower.

Liam seemed not to see it. He got back in the car, drove away, the tires rolling over the edge of the crimson stain.