Chapter 5 up
“I just want to talk.”
The voice sounded soft behind Nyla as she had just stepped down from the stairs.
Nyla stopped mid-step. She recognized that voice without needing to turn around.
Selena.
That morning, the house felt unnaturally quiet. Clark had left early, his face cold, his mind full of suspicion. Nyla knew—her silence yesterday had triggered something. And Selena would not stay still.
“I have nothing to discuss with you,” Nyla replied without turning around.
Selena smiled faintly and stepped closer. “I won’t take long. This is about Clark. And my child.”
The words my child were spoken with careful emphasis—like a small blade deliberately pressed in, slowly.
Nyla turned and looked at Selena flatly. “Talk. Then leave.”
Selena stood near the table, one hand braced against it as if steadying herself from dizziness. Her face was pale, her lips trembling slightly. Acting—almost flawless.
“I never meant to take anything from you,” she said softly. “I just… love him.”
Nyla let out a small scoff. “If loving someone means coming into his lawful wife’s home and demanding she leave, then your definition of love is deeply questionable.”
Selena smiled faintly, but a cold glint flashed in her eyes.
“You’ve always thought you were above me, Nyla,” she said quietly. “The lawful wife. The good woman. The one who sacrifices.”
“I don’t need to feel above you,” Nyla replied calmly. “You chose to stand beneath me yourself.”
Selena’s expression shifted. Her smile disappeared.
“You know, Nyla,” she said quietly, taking one step closer, “Clark will never choose you if he has to pick.”
“That’s between him and me,” Nyla answered. “Not you.”
Selena’s gaze flicked toward the staircase behind Nyla—then she moved closer. Too close.
“I just want you to step aside peacefully,” she said. “Without drama.”
“I won’t leave just because you’re pregnant,” Nyla said firmly. “If Clark wants me gone, he can say it to my face.”
Selena smiled.
And in the very next second—
“Ahh!”
Selena’s body suddenly lurched backward.
She threw herself hard onto the floor, clutching her stomach, her face drained of color. A small vase on the side table fell and shattered, the crash echoing sharply through the room.
Nyla froze.
“What did you do?!” Selena cried out in a trembling voice. “Why did you push me?!”
“I didn’t touch you!” Nyla shouted, instinctively stepping back.
But it was already too late.
The front door flew open.
“Selena!”
Clark stood in the doorway, his expression changing instantly as he saw Selena lying on the floor, crying and holding her stomach.
“Clark… our baby…” Selena sobbed. “I just wanted to talk… but Nyla… she pushed me…”
Clark turned to Nyla.
That look.
The look she knew too well.
Disbelief. Refusal to listen. Judgment already made.
“What did you do?!” he shouted.
Nyla shook her head quickly. “I didn’t push her. She threw herself down.”
“You think I’m an idiot?!” Clark yelled. “Look at her! Look at her condition!”
Selena cried even harder. “I’m fine… I’m just scared…” she sobbed. “I know I was wrong to come here… but I never thought she would hate me this much…”
Nyla looked at Selena—and for the first time, she truly saw her.
Not as a pregnant woman.
Not as a mistress.
But as a practiced liar.
“Clark,” Nyla said, her voice restrained but clear. “She’s lying.”
“Enough!” Clark cut her off harshly. “I’m sick of your attitude!”
He knelt beside Selena and carefully lifted her into his arms. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Selena looked at Nyla over Clark’s shoulder—her eyes wet, but her smile thin and triumphant.
“You’ve gone too far,” Clark said coldly. “I never thought you could be this cruel.”
“Because I didn’t do it,” Nyla replied firmly. “If you would just listen—”
“I’ve heard enough!” Clark snapped. “You’re jealous, you feel threatened, and now you’ve hurt a pregnant woman!”
The words struck Nyla like a storm of stones.
“I’m your wife,” she said quietly. “Three years, Clark. Three years I’ve never harmed you.”
“And today you harmed my child,” Clark replied without hesitation.
He stood, his face hard. “I don’t want to see you anywhere near Selena again.”
Nyla let out a small, bitter laugh—barely audible. “So you choose to believe a performance over your own wife?”
Clark stared at her sharply. “I choose the truth.”
Nyla nodded slowly.
“Fine,” she said. “If that’s your decision.”
She looked at Selena one last time. “Play your role carefully. Lies like this can’t be performed forever.”
Selena said nothing. She only pressed closer to Clark’s chest, as if frightened.
Clark pointed toward the stairs. “You should leave. Calm yourself down.”
“Leave?” Nyla repeated. “Or be thrown out?”
Clark hesitated for a moment, then said coldly, “I need time. And Selena must not be stressed.”
Nyla looked around the house—the house she had once called home.
“So this is how you drive me away,” she said softly. “With a lie.”
She walked toward the stairs, her steps steady even as her chest trembled violently.
At the top of the stairs, she stopped and turned back.
“Clark,” she said quietly but firmly. “Today, you chose to believe a lie. One day, you’ll beg me to tell you the truth.”