Love Hits Zero When I Turn Away

My stepsister, who had been paralyzed for six years, was pregnant.
I reached for my phone to call the police, but my fathers hand clamped down on my wrist.
Iris, he said, his voice a low command, this child is yours, too.
My husband, Patrick Hayes, stood silently by my fathers side, his silence a confirmation of this entire grotesque charade.
I understood.
The child my stepsister was carrying was his.
Seeing my silence, Patrick took a step forward, positioning himself between me and my stepsister, Rosalie.
Iris, this was my decision, and your fathers. Dont blame Rosalie.
He spoke to me with the kind of placating tone one uses for a difficult child.
You were never willing to have a baby. You know what people have been saying, the whispers behind our backs.
He gestured to Rosalies bed. Shes paralyzed. Shes your own sister. Her having this baby wont threaten your position as Mrs. Hayes.
Every word they spoke was supposedly for my benefit.
Yet they had acted first, never once asking if this was what I wanted.
In their eyes, I was the woman who never said no.
But they didnt know. The time I had promised my mother, the time I would spend taking care of the Lowell and Hayes families, was up.
It was time for me to leave.
Patricks hand was still resting on Rosalies swollen belly.
The sight was a physical pain, sharp and blinding.
Dont be mad at Patrick, big sister, Rosalie said from the bed, a harmless, innocent smile playing on her lips.
The doctor said my body is very fragile. Patrick was just worried that something might happen to me and the baby. Thats why he kept it from you.
She patted the back of my hand, her touch cloying. Were doing this for you. Youve been Mrs. Hayes for so many years, with no children to show for it. Its embarrassing.
She looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes. When the baby is born, well register him under your name. Hell call you Mommy, okay?
My father cleared his throat, assuming the mantle of the patriarch.
Iris! Rosalie is carrying the Hayes family heir! He is the future of the Lowell family as well!
He glared at me. Your sister, despite her condition, is helping you, helping this family. You should be grateful, not standing there with a face like death.
Patrick finally removed his hand from Rosalies stomach and walked toward me.
He reached for my hand, but I pulled away.
His arm froze in mid-air.
Iris, weve been married for years. Dont you know me by now?
His voice was a soft, wounded thing. Everything Ive done, Ive done for you, for our family. I cant stand by while people call you a barren hen behind your back.
I stared at him, unable to form a single word.
Seeing that I was unmoved, Patricks patience wore thin. He tugged at his tie, his frustration showing.
Alright, thats enough. Stop making a scene. Ive asked the housekeeper to prepare a special dinner to celebrate.
He turned his back on me. As the lady of the house, you should at least show some grace.
He went to Rosalies side, his movements gentle in a way I had never seen before.
Rosalie, my love, what would you like to eat? Ill have the kitchen make it for you.
Rosalie leaned against him weakly, her voice a coquettish whisper. I want that delicate consomm. And I want you to feed it to me yourself.
Of course. Anything for you.
They flirted as if I wasnt there, as if I were a piece of furniture.
I stood there, feeling laughably redundant.
Just then, our family physician, Dr. Evans, walked in with his medical bag.
He was beaming as he pulled a folder from his bag.
Mr. Hayes, Mr. Lowell, wonderful news!
He handed the report to Patrick, his voice booming.
Miss Lowells pregnancy is very stable. And the ultrasound it looks like a boy! Congratulations, Mr. Hayes, you have an heir!
Patrick leaned down and kissed Rosalie soundly.
My fathers face was flushed with excitement.
Dr. Evans turned to me, his smile tinged with pity.
Mrs. Hayes, dont be too upset. Since you havent been able to conceive, letting Miss Lowell help you out is just as good.
The room was filled with joyous laughter, each sound a needle piercing my eardrums.
I clutched my phone, my nails digging into my palm.
Patrick walked over to me, holding the ultrasound picture like a trophy.
Iris, look. Isnt he adorable? From now on, hes our child.
My father was quick to add, But Iris, even though the child will be registered under your name, he will still call Rosalie Mom.
They were just as they had always been, assuming I would bow to their every demand.
Just like the day after my mothers funeral, when my father brought home a stepsister who was barely six months younger than me. Hed claimed she was the daughter of an old friend, but her face was a near-perfect copy of his own.
Just like when Patrick said he wanted a child, and I subjected myself to countless folk remedies and painful treatments, even though I had told him before we were married that my health was poor and it would be difficult for me to conceive.
Seven years ago, at my mothers deathbed, I had made a solemn vow.
I would support my weak-willed father and prop up the Lowell family business. I would help Patrick, who had nothing to his name, pave a golden path to success.
To my mother, the Lowell family was a legacy of love, and the Hayes family was a debt of gratitude. They were the two things she couldnt let go of.
But to me, it was just a contract.
And now, the seven years were up. There was nothing left for me here.
I turned and walked out, closing the door on their picture of domestic bliss.
On a deserted balcony, I dialed the number of the lawyer my mother had designated before her death.
Mr. Cole, the seven years are up.
There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a soft sigh.
Miss Lowell. Everything is prepared. On your word, all capital invested in Lowell Corp and Hayes Industries will begin to be withdrawn within twenty-four hours. We estimate a full extraction can be completed in six days.
Begin.
After I hung up, I felt the rope that had bound me for seven years finally begin to loosen.
Patrick appeared beside me, his brow furrowed.
Who were you talking to? All secretive.
He looked at me with disapproval. Iris, Im warning you, dont take the familys money and make foolish investments. We have a child to raise now. Every penny counts. You need to be more frugal.
He lectured me as if it were his right, completely forgetting that every penny he had was earned through my efforts.
I ignored him and walked to the dining room.
The long table was laden with food, but every single dish was one of Rosalies favorites.
Patrick was meticulously deboning a fish for her, so engrossed that he didnt even notice I hadnt touched my chopsticks.
My father, his face red from wine, pointed a finger at me.
Iris, transfer the Lowell Corp shares under your name to the baby in Rosalies belly. Consider it a welcome gift from his aunt.
I looked up at his face, a canvas of greed and calculation.
I nodded.
Fine.
My easy agreement seemed to stun them.
Patrick was the first to recover, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
See? I told you Iris was the most reasonable of us all.
He immediately took charge. The portion of my companys shares under your name you should transfer those as well. For our child. I know youll agree.
Rosalie, nestled in his arms, tugged at his sleeve with feigned concern. Patrick, dont be like that. Youll make sister unhappy.
My father scoffed. Unhappy? Shes thrilled! Arent you, Iris? Come on, raise a glass to Rosalie and say a few words of blessing.
Patrick picked up a glass of red wine and held it out to me.
I cant drink, I said.
Patricks face darkened instantly.
What do you mean, you cant? What about the Southside project, when you drank until you had stomach bleeding? You didnt say you couldnt drink then.
My father chimed in. Exactly. Youve been drinking at business dinners for years. As I recall, you were more than happy to do it then. You fought for the chance.
For years, one of them had to maintain the image of the refined CEO, the other the dignified chairman.
The dirty work of groveling and schmoozing naturally fell to me.
Six more days, I counted silently in my head.
I took the glass Patrick was practically shoving in my face and turned to Rosalie.
The triumphant smirk on her face was impossible to miss.
I raised my glass.
I wish you, I said, enunciating each word, get everything youve ever wanted.
Later that night, a searing pain in my stomach ripped me from a nightmare.
Cold sweat soaked through my pajamas. I curled into a ball, every breath a sharp agony.
I fumbled on the nightstand for my painkillers, but my hand met only empty space.
Then I remembered. The housekeeper had cleared out all the medicine in the house, claiming the smell bothered Rosalie.
The huge villa was silent.
They were probably all in Rosalies room, fussing over her.
I struggled out of bed and drove myself to the hospital.
In the emergency room, the doctor looked at my chart, his brow furrowed in concern.
How did you let it get this bad again? Didnt I tell you to take care of yourself?
He looked up at me, his tone reproachful. Isnt Mr. Hayes keeping an eye on you? The last time he was here, he begged me to do whatever it took to get you well.
I felt a pang of something distant.
The first time my stomach had given out, I had ended up here.
Patrick had carried me into the ER, his eyes red with panic, grabbing the doctors arm and asking again and again what he could do.
After I was discharged, he hid all my work files and cooked porridge for me himself. He was constantly at the hospital, discussing my diet with the doctor.
He had truly loved me then.
But that love had vanished.
Perhaps I was too busy. Too busy to notice anyones feelings.
I remembered the last time Patrick and I had fought. I had worked for three days straight on a project, without sleep, and missed a trip we had planned.
He had exploded at me, the first time he had ever raised his voice like that.
He called me a cold-blooded monster who only cared about work, a woman who had failed in her duties as a wife.
I was stunned at the time.
I was just trying to be like my mother, to give them a better life. What had I done wrong?
Running two companies was exhausting. There was never time to think.
By the time I looked up, everything had changed.
My phone vibrated, pulling me from my thoughts.
It was a text from Patrick.
Dad and I are taking Rosalie on a vacation to cheer her up. Wire six million from the company account.
I replied with a simple Okay, just as I always had.
Then I messaged the CFO and authorized an unlimited spending limit for them.
It wouldnt be my company for much longer. A cash flow crisis wasnt my problem.
The doctor was still talking. You have to follow my instructions. You cant keep abusing your body like this.
I nodded firmly. I will, doctor. It wont happen again.
From now on, I would live only for myself.
I stayed in the hospital for a few days.
Patrick never called.
The only call I received was from a very nervous CFO.
Ms. Lowell, Mr. Hayess expenses at the overseas resort theyve exceeded ten million. If this continues, the companys cash flow will be completely depleted.
I leaned against my pillow, staring at the gray sky outside.
Let them.
The CFO was frantic. But Ms. Lowell, the first payment for the Southside project is due. If we use that money, well be in breach of contract!
Do Mr. Hayes and Mr. Lowell know about this?
He hesitated. They said it was fine. They said you were here, that you would handle it.
I let out a soft laugh. Then lets default.
I hung up and checked myself out of the hospital.
Today was the seventh anniversary of my mothers death.
It was also the last day of my promise.
I bought a bouquet of white roses, her favorite, and drove to the cemetery in the West Hills.
But as I stood before the familiar plot, I froze.
The photo on the headstone was of a stranger.
The name carved into the marble was Linda.
Rosalies biological mother.
The blood in my veins turned to ice.
I heard the sound of Patrick and Rosalies laughter behind me.
Sister, youre here so early.
Patrick was carefully pushing Rosalies wheelchair, making sure she wasnt jostled.
I pointed a trembling finger at the cold stone.
Where is my mother?
Patrick frowned, clearly displeased with my tone.
Iris, keep your voice down. Youll frighten Rosalie.
He moved to shield her before explaining in a slow, deliberate voice, Rosalie had a dream a few days ago. She said Linda was cold and alone. I had someone look into it, and your mothers plot was a rare, sun-facing piece of land so we moved Linda here.

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