Never to Meet Again

Nine months pregnant, my belly felt as heavy as if I were carrying a block of lead. On the shoe cabinet by the entrance, a pair of off-white stiletto heels that did not belong to me stood out sharply; the heels were still smeared with mud. "Bruce?" I called out toward the living room, my voice trembling. No one answered. Only faint sounds came from the bedroom upstairs. I gripped the stair railing and slowly made my way up, each step accompanied by a sinking pain in my belly. The bedroom door was slightly open, and Rachel's sweet voice drifted out: "Be careful, Bruce, Whitney Scott will be back soon." "What is there to fear? She's immobile and can't turn the tables." Bruce Collins' voice held a faint smile. "Once the child is born, I'll come clean with her." A cold shiver ran through my entire body, my hand trembling as it gripped the wall for support. A sharp pain twisted through my belly, and with a muffled groan, I slid down to the floor. The door was pulled open. Bruce, shirtless, saw my pale face. "Whitney? How did you get up here?" He hurriedly searched for clothes to put on. Rachel Xavier brushed her hair back and stepped closer, deliberately leaning into his arms. "Mr. Collins, since Ms. Scott saw everything, why not be straightforward about it?" "Shut up!" Bruce Collins pushed her aside and crouched down to support me. "Whitney, listen to me, it's not what you think." "Not what I think?" I stared at the lipstick mark on his neck and laughed through tears. "You two were discussing work in the bedroom?" The contractions grew fiercer. I clutched his arm, unable to speak. "Quick, take her to the hospital!" Rachel Xavier suddenly shouted urgently. Bruce Collins picked me up and ran downstairs. I rested against his chest, smelling the mingled scent of perfume and sweat, my stomach churning. On the day our daughter was born, a light rain was falling. Bruce Collins waited outside the delivery room, his eyes bloodshot. "Whitney, thank you for your hard work. From now on, I will take good care of you and the baby." I looked at him without a word—some wounds, once torn open, can never be sewn shut again. I named our daughter Nora. I want her to always remember that her mother loves her endlessly. After the confinement period, Bruce said he would take care of me and asked Rachel Xavier to move in. "She's just a young girl living alone, and I don't feel at ease. Once your body has recovered, she'll leave." "Bruce Collins, do you think I'm easy to fool?" I stared into his eyes. He avoided my gaze. "Whitney, for Nora's sake, stop making a scene." On the first day Rachel moved in, she wandered the living room wearing my silk nightgown. "Ms. Scott, this dress fits perfectly. Thank you for not minding." "My things. You have no right to touch them." I walked over and tore off the nightgown. "Wash it now and put it back in my wardrobe." "Why are you being so harsh?" Bruce came out of the study to shield her. "It's just a dress. Is it necessary to be this petty?" That night, I held Nora and slept in the guest room. Bruce neither looked for me nor called. It was Nora's first birthday, and many guests had come to the house. Bruce Collins was busy entertaining guests, while Rachel Xavier moved through the crowd like the hostess. "Nora is so adorable, just like Mr. Collins was as a child." A guest said with a smile. "Yes," Rachel pinched Nora's cheek, "she will definitely grow up to be a great beauty." I held Nora tightly and took a step back to avoid her touch. Halfway through the party, I went to the kitchen to get some water and heard Rachel's voice: "When are you going to come clean with her? I don't want to be the secret lover anymore." "Wait a little longer," Bruce Collins said, "the company still needs help from her family." The cup in my hand crashed to the floor, shattering. Bruce pushed open the door and saw my face suddenly change. "Whitney, please let me explain..." "No need to explain, Bruce Collins. Let's get a divorce." I cut him off. "I don't agree!" He frowned. "Whitney, I know I was wrong. Please give me one more chance." Ignoring him, I held Nora and walked to the living room. "Sorry, today's banquet is over. Thank you all for coming." The guests exchanged glances, then stood up and left one after another. Rachel Xavier stood rooted to the spot, her face pale as death. Afterwards, I began packing my things. Bruce Collins came every day to comfort me: "Whitney, I've already asked Rachel to move out. See, the guest room is empty now." "Nora is still so young; she can't be without a father." He tried to sway me by appealing to our daughter. "But she absolutely cannot grow up in a home filled with lies and betrayal." I said quietly. Just as we were about to sign the divorce agreement, the unexpected happened. That afternoon, I was in the study dealing with paperwork, while the babysitter watched Nora playing in the living room. Suddenly, Rachel appeared, holding some imported jelly: "I came to see Nora." She ignored the babysitter's protests and pressed the jelly into Nora's hand. "Ms. Xavier, Nora's still too young to eat this." The babysitter hurried forward. "It's okay, I'll watch her while she eats." Rachel Xavier held down the babysitter's hand, a flicker of cold malice in her eyes. I heard the noise and came out just in time to see Nora shove a large piece of jelly into her mouth, her face flushing red as she began to cough violently. "Nora!" I screamed, rushing over to catch her and hammering on her back. The jelly was lodged in her throat and couldn't be dislodged no matter what we tried. "Call an ambulance!" I shouted at Rachel Xavier. She stood rooted to the spot, her face pale and body trembling. By the time the ambulance arrived, Nora had already stopped breathing. I sat on the floor holding her cold body, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. Bruce Collins arrived at the hospital, trembling as he reached out to touch our daughter: "Nora..." "Don't touch her!" I shoved him away fiercely. "You killed her! You and Rachel Xavier together killed her!" "It was Rachel who gave Nora the jelly—she did it on purpose!" I shouted, recounting everything to him. "Impossible," he shook his head. "Rachel isn't that kind of person; she loves Nora deeply." I hired the best lawyer, but Rachel bribed the babysitter. "Ms. Scott, I'm sorry. It's my fault for not watching over the young lady. She insisted on eating the jelly, and I couldn't stop her." The babysitter knelt before me, kowtowing. "You're lying! Rachel forced you to say that!" I grabbed her collar, but she only wept silently. At the first trial, Rachel was acquitted. I stood outside the courthouse, watching her walk away side by side with Bruce Collins. "Whitney, stop causing a scene," Bruce Collins approached and tried to take my hand. "Nora is gone, but we can have another child." "Another child?" I laughed through my tears, "Bruce Collins, you truly disgust me." I filed an appeal, but the outcome was always the same. The lawyer sighed, "Ms. Scott, I'm sorry, I did everything I could. Rachel Xavier has Mr. Collins's backing; we simply can't beat her." Returning to the empty house, traces of Nora were everywhere. I went into the bathroom, picked up a fruit knife, and sliced my wrist. Blood stained the tiles crimson. As my consciousness faded, I seemed to see Nora running toward me, smiling and calling out, "Mommy." "Nora, Mommy is here with you." I murmured to myself and closed my eyes. When I woke again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Bruce Collins sat by the bed, his eyes bloodshot. "Whitney, you scared me to death. Why did you do this?" I pulled my hand away and turned my head to look out the window. "I've already sent Rachel Xavier away," he said. "She won't appear in our lives again. Can we start over?" After being discharged, Bruce Collins came home on time every day and surprised me with different meals. "Whitney, today I made your favorite—sweet and sour ribs." I picked up a piece and put it in my mouth, but I couldn't taste anything. "Is it good?" He asked expectantly. "Mm." I nodded half-heartedly. At night, he tried to hold me, but I instinctively pulled away. "Whitney?" He was stunned. "I'm tired. I want to go to bed early." I turned my back to him. In the darkness, I heard his soft sigh. I knew there was no going back for us.