Behind Is the Abyss, Ahead Is the Wasteland

It was during a summer charity drive at Saint Jude's Orphanage when I stumbled upon my future daughter.

She claimed she had traveled back in time, twenty years from the future.

I stared at her, my heart fluttering with a mix of dread and dizzying excitement.

You look so much like Todd, I whispered, studying her face. "How old are you?"

"Are Todd and I still happy twenty years from now? He swore to me that he'd cherish me even more after we tied the knot."

I kept babbling, eager for any scrap of our future. But the girl only let out a strange, hollow laugh.

"Oh, your bond is spectacular," she said, her voice dripping with something dark. "Twenty years later, he still treats you like his crown jewel. Last year, when you had a minor surgery, he practically lived outside the operating room, donating half his net worth to charity just to beg the universe for your safety."

A sweet warmth bloomed in my chest. "He always did have a flair for the dramatic," I murmured, a soft smile tugging at my lips.

Before the warmth could settle, her voice drifted over, light as a feather but cold as ice.

"But then, a secret lover is always more thrilling than a real wife, isn't she?"

"When the woman on the outside gets a minor headache, the old bastard drops everything, leaving his actual family in the dust."

"Isn't that right, stepmom?"

Maeve seemed delighted by my sheer bewilderment. She wore a mocking grin, as if watching a tragedy unfold in real-time.

"You didn't actually think you were my mother, did you?"

"A homewrecker like you doesn't deserve a daughter."

She spoke with absolute certainty. But it made no sense. Todd and I had signed our marriage papers just last month. How could I possibly be his mistress?

"That's impossible. Who are you? What are you..."

Maeve cut me off with a scoff.

"Fine. Today happens to be my parents' wedding anniversary anyway. If you don't believe me, let's go see for ourselves."

Half-doubting, half-terrified, I drove Maeve to the address she gave me.

It was in the very same gated community where Todd and I lived. But while our townhouse sat on the cheap, dusty western edge of the estate, this grand brick villa stood proudly right in the center.

Maeve sneered the moment she stepped out of the car.

"Twenty years from now, everyone calls you his little side-chick. Quite the title, isn't it?"

"There. See for yourself."

I followed her gaze, and my entire body turned to stone.

Todd, who had held me close and begged for a good morning kiss just hours ago, was leaning down, letting a woman wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him deeply.

"Take a good look, stepmom. The woman in there is my actual mother."

"You're saying... Phoebe is your mother?" My voice cracked, dry as ash.

Maeve nodded without a trace of hesitation.

It was absurd.

Phoebe had been Todd's executive assistant ever since she graduated college. Whenever she saw me, she would smile warmly, treating me like her closest friend and calling me the future Mrs.

At our wedding last month, she had stayed late, drinking toast after toast on our behalf to keep the guests happy until she was completely wasted. I had even nudged Todd afterward, telling him to give her a massive bonus for being so loyal.

And now, Maeve was claiming Phoebe was Todd's real wife.

Then what was the marriage certificate Todd and I had signed?

"A forgery," Maeve said.

I froze, staring at her in sheer disbelief.

She shrugged, her lip curling. "It's all fake. The ceremony was a sham, the guests were hired actors, and the certificate is just a cheap piece of paper without an official state seal."

I refused to believe it. I couldn't believe that Todd, the man who had swerved the steering wheel during a car crash to take the full force of the impact to protect me, would trap me in such a cruel, humiliating lie.

My knees trembling, I stumbled back to our townhouse. With shaking fingers, I pried open the safe.

The moment we got back with the certificate last month, Todd had playfully snatched it away before I could even open it. He had wrapped his arms around me, beaming with pride. "This is our family heirloom now," he had whispered. "We have to lock it away safely."

Such sweet words. I had happily let him have his way.

Now, holding the paper under the light, I realized how laughably fake it was. A child could have spotted the forged stamp.

I collapsed onto the floor, the paper slipping from my hand as a cold void opened in my chest. "Why?" I whispered to the empty room. "Why would he do this to me?"

Maeve made herself at home, wandering around the bedroom. "Because he's a greedy bastard. He wanted a respectable wife, but he also wanted to keep his favorite toy."

"My mother's family has money and connections. They gave him funding, resources, everything he needed to build his empire."

"But you? You stuck with him through his poorest years, so he threw you a bone. He put on a fake show to keep you quiet, locked up in this little cage."

I sat on the floor for hours as the afternoon light faded into dusk, entirely oblivious to when Maeve had slipped out.

The moon was high by the time Todd finally returned. He paused at the door, surprised to see me curled up in the darkness of the sofa. "Gemma? Sweetheart, why are you sitting in the dark?"

"My meeting ran incredibly late today. I'm sorry."

"But guess what I brought you?"

With a boyish grin, he produced a small, elegant box from behind his back. "Strawberry shortcake. You said you were craving it yesterday."

He held it out to me, his eyes bright and warm, looking exactly like the man who had promised to love me forever.

I pulled my knees tighter against my chest, staring at this man I had loved for a decade. How could he hold another woman, kiss her, and then come home to look at me with such convincing tenderness?

Confused by my silence, his smile softened, and he slid onto the couch to pull me into his chest.

"I'm sorry, honey. I promise I'll be home early tomorrow."

He called me his wife so naturally, with such warmth. But I wasn't his wife. I was just his dirty little secret.

Maeve was like a ghost, appearing out of nowhere. The next morning, as I was about to take my medication, she snatched the bottle right out of my hand.

I pressed a hand to my throbbing temple, reaching out. "Give it back, Maeve. My head is splitting."

She turned the bottle around, inspecting the label with mock curiosity. "Wow, stepmom, you started popping these this early?"

"I don't know what my dad saw in you. A pill-popper. How pathetic."

I froze. "What do you mean, pill-popper?"

She rattled the pills. "These are heavy-duty psychotropics. Hallucinogens."

"Actually, the timeline fits. You get so hooked on these that you hallucinate, crash your car into someone, and end up in prison."

The moment the words left her mouth, she gasped, slapping a hand over her lips as if she had said too much. Shoving the bottle back into my hand, she quickly poured a glass of water and offered it to me with a tense, fake smile. "I was lying. It's just ordinary pain medicine. Drink up."

I stared at the plastic bottle, my hands shaking violently.

Todd had brought these pills home, claiming they were a cutting-edge prescription for my chronic migraines. Every time my head throbbed, he would look more panicked than I was, personally bringing the water and watching me swallow the pill before he could relax.

I had thought it was love. But in reality, he was quietly, systematically driving me insane.

Hysteria clawing at my throat, I threw the bottle across the room. It shattered against the wall, pills scattering like teeth.

We had been together since we were eighteen. Ten years. During our bleakest times, we shared a damp basement flat, living on instant noodles. I had worked myself to the bone helping him pitch to clients. When a wealthy investor humiliated him, I swallowed my pride and spent weeks kissing up to the investor's snobbish wife just to secure the deal.

When Todd found out, his eyes had burned with tears of shame and anger. "Gemma, never again," he had choked out, holding my face. "I don't care if I have to drink myself to death for a contract, but I will not let you degrade yourself for me."

The man who swore he would rather die than see me suffer had handed me the ultimate betrayal.

I wiped the tears from my face, turning to Maeve, who was watching me with a blank expression.

"What else?" I choked out. "What else did he do?"

Maeve stared at me, a dark, unsettling smile spreading across her lips. "Stepmom, do you remember the orphanage where you found me today?"

"Why do you think a girl from twenty years in the future would be wandering around that specific place?"

My heart leaped into my throat. Before I could press her for answers, the front door clicked open.

Phoebe walked in, dressed in a sharp pencil skirt and blazer. She froze when she saw me sitting on the floor, her face twisting into immediate concern. "Gemma? Oh my god, what happened?"

I whipped my head around to look for Maeve, but she was gone. Vanished into thin air.

Phoebe rushed over and knelt beside me, reaching out to help me up. "Gemma, let me help..."

The fake warmth in her voice made my stomach turn. I slapped her hand away with all the strength I had left. "Should you be calling me that, or is it my turn to call you the lady of the house?"

Phoebe stiffened. A heavy silence filled the room. Then, slowly, her worried expression melted away, replaced by a cold, amused smirk. "So, you finally figured it out."

"I was starting to think you were genuinely brainless. I left so many clues, you know."

She stood up, smoothing her skirt, and made herself comfortable on the sofa, her posture oozing the confidence of a rightful owner.

"Todd and I registered our marriage a year ago."

"Yesterday was our anniversary. Did he tell you he had a late board meeting? He didn't."

"He bought me a cake, gave me a diamond ring, and took me out to a beautiful dinner. Then he drew me a bath and tucked me into bed."

"My appetite hasn't been great lately, so I told him to take the leftover cake home to keep you happy. Did you try it? The bakery is exclusive."

She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger, sighing. "Look, Gemma, don't hate him. He didn't want to hurt you. He just didn't have the heart to break the news."

"You did suffer with him through the lean years, after all. He still wants you around to take care of him when I'm busy."

"Besides, you're a much better cook. He loves those honey-glazed pork chops you make. I can never get the recipe right, mine are always too sweet or too sour. I made them last week, and he barely took two bites before complaining they weren't as good as yours."

Cold sweat poured down my neck. My head throbbed with white-hot pain. "When did it start?" I whispered.

She tapped her chin, smiling. "Three years ago, on your anniversary."

"The office was in complete chaos. He'd pulled an all-nighter but was still insisting on rushing home to buy you flowers. I got annoyed, so I made him stay with me instead."

Her voice began to warp and fade. Spots of blinding color danced across my eyes, and then the world went entirely black.

When I opened my eyes, the smell of antiseptic filled my nose. Todd was asleep, his head resting on the edge of my hospital bed. His brow was furrowed, and his fingers were wrapped tightly around mine.

I stared at his face, a face I had kissed ten thousand times. A faint white scar ran from his temple to his cheekbone, a permanent reminder of the day he threw himself over my body as the glass shattered around us.

I slowly pulled my hand away. The movement startled him awake.

He sat up instantly, his eyes bloodshot. Seeing me conscious, his face lit up with overwhelming relief. "Gemma, thank god. You terrified me."

He poured a cup of water, offering it to me. "The doctor said it was an anxiety attack. Sweetheart, have you been skipping your medication?"

I stared down at my trembling fingers. "Todd, where is Phoebe?"

He blinked, then offered a smooth, easy smile. "She's my assistant, Gemma. She's at the office, of course."

"I only sent her to our place yesterday to grab some files. Why do you ask?"

Whenever he lied, his left eyebrow would twitch upward. It was a tell he had possessed since he was eighteen, one he had never managed to shake.

I closed my eyes, unable to look at him for another second. "Leave. I want to be alone."

"Gemma..."

"Go."

A long silence stretched between us. Finally, he sighed, gently tucking the blanket around my shoulders. At the door, he paused, looking back with soft, pleading eyes. "I love you, Gemma."

The words were filled with warmth, but they left me shivering. The moment the door clicked shut, the dam broke, and hot tears streamed down my face.

"Oh? Stepmom, are those actual tears?" Maeve stood by the window, her voice dripping with mockery. She leaned over the bed, her fingers surprisingly gentle as she brushed a tear from my cheek.

I froze, staring up into her face. Her wide, round eyes held a strange, haunting familiarity.

In the next breath, her wicked smile returned. "I didn't think bad women knew how to cry. How tragic."

"You deserve it. But don't worry, there's plenty more misery waiting for you in the future."

Remembering what she had whispered before Phoebe walked in, I lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. "What did Todd do to the orphanage?"

Maeve fell silent. She stared down at my hand wrapping her wrist, her eyes glazed over. For a fleeting second, I could have sworn her eyes were swimming with tears.

A sudden panic gripped my chest. "Maeve..."

Before I could finish, she violently wrenched her hand away. "You brought this on yourself! It serves you right that my dad bulldozed that dump where you grew up and gifted the land to my mother."

My breath hitched in my throat.

Maeve paced the room, her voice rising with forced, manic glee.

"You were like a shadow, always playing the victim to keep my dad from coming home to his real family."

"But the moment my mother threw a tantrum, he threw you under the bus. He destroyed the only place you ever cared about just to make her smile."

"My mother told me you literally got down on your knees, begging him. She said you sobbed like a dog."

"Didn't stop him though. They turned your precious orphanage into a waste processing plant."

"After that, you completely lost your mind, turning his life into a living hell with your psychotic episodes."

"You even caused a death. The old lady who ran the place threatened to sue, but she ended up dead in a convenient accident."

"It was my mother's development project, so of course my dad cleaned up the mess. He swept the old lady's death under the rug without blinking."

"And you, like a fool, kept screaming for justice. My dad had to hire a specialist to hypnotize you just to wipe your memories and shut you up."

I was discharged a few days later. I went back to the townhouse quietly. Every curtain, every piece of furniture had been chosen by me. I had built this place believing it was the foundation of my happiest years. Instead, it was a gilded cage built on deceit and blood.

I had barely finished packing my suitcase when Todd burst through the door, throwing his arms around me in a desperate embrace.

"Gemma, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Why did you leave the hospital without telling me?"

Resting my head against his chest, feeling the frantic, terrified racing of his heart, I whispered, "Todd, do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he replied instantly, tightening his grip. "Gemma, without you, I would die."

Such grand passion. I let out a silent, bitter laugh. Before I could reply, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out with a frown, his face instantly turning pale and conflicted as Phoebe's name flashed on the screen.

"Take it," I said, my voice dead.

He hesitated, then stepped back, moving into the hallway to answer.

When he returned, the mask of the apologetic lover was firmly back in place. "Just some trouble at the firm. Get some rest, okay?"

"Once this deal closes, I'll take you on a vacation. Just the two of us."

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and hurried out the door.

I stared at the closed door, raising my hand to violently wipe his kiss from my skin. There is no vacation, Todd. There is no future.

I grabbed my suitcase and walked out, never looking back.

At the corner of the street, some inexplicable urge made me stop and turn. Maeve was sitting on the wooden swing set in the garden of the grand brick villa, swaying gently under the shadow of the trees.

Seeing me watch her, she raised a hand, waving with a wide, bright smile. The sight sent a strange shiver through me. How odd. She looked absolutely nothing like Phoebe.