The Mistress Who Wasn't There

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She's a total riot when she's wasted. You guys wanna see?

The woman saying this was my husbands first love.

The man allowing it? My husband.

That night, he watched from the shadows. He watched as that woman dug her fingers into my jaw, prying it open. He watched as she forced the burning liquor down my throat.

Liquid fire seared my esophagus. My vision blurred. Tears streamed down my face, unbidden.

My husband just shrugged. His voice was cold. Detached.

"It's fine. Let her drink. She has dementia anyway. Come morning, she won't remember a thing."

But he was wrong.

This time? I remembered every. Single. Second.

Chapter 1

Silass thirtieth birthday party was crowded.

The venue was packed. Old classmates mixed with strangers, a sea of faces I couldn't place.

Dinner turned into drinks. Drinks turned into a rowdy game of Truth or Dare.

"So, Silas," a guest slurred, leaning over the table. "When are you and Summer finally tying the knot?"

Summer. Thats me.

Ive been his shadow since he was a nobody. From rags to riches. Years of absolute devotion.

And still, no ring.

"We'll see. No rush." Silas waved the question away. Bored. Indifferent.

Of course not. Not when Paige was sitting right across from him.

The one that got away. She flew back from overseas just for him. Rumor had it, hed already carved out a high-level spot for her at his company.

Paige traced the rim of her wine glass, her eyes glassy and unfocused. "Personal question, Silas. Is the person you love... in this room?"

The room erupted. Oohs and wolf-whistles bounced off the walls.

Silas grabbed my hand. He locked eyes with her.

"The only person I love is Summer."

Paiges face fell. Blank. Then, a bitter, fragile smile. "Okay."

The crowd swooned at the romance. They didn't feel it.

His grip.

His fingers were crushing my knuckles. He was squeezing so hard it felt like he might break them.

He didn't love me. He wanted her to break. He wanted to see her crumble, to fall on her knees and beg for him back.

Next round. My turn.

Paige wasn't done. She looked at him with misty, pleading eyes. "Silas... let her do a Dare. Please?"

I stared at him. My blood ran cold.

He knew the stakes. The Dare wasn't a cute prank. It was a glass of high-proof vodka. Poison.

But Paige asked. And for Paige, Silas would burn the world down.

"Sure."

Paige lit up. She scraped her chair back, snatched the glass of vodka, and stalked toward me.

"She's so fun when she's wasted. You guys wanna see?"

Flashbacks slammed into me. High school. Paige tricking me into drinking. The darkness. My clothes ripped away. The blinding flash of a camera.

Years later, the shame still crawled under my skin like insects.

Panic rose in my throat. I grabbed my bag, knuckles white. "I'm done. I'm going home."

Paige lunged. Surprising strength for someone so petite. Other hands joined in, pinning my arms to the chair. Trapped.

"Summer, don't be a sore loser."

"Silas, stop them! I can't drink that!" My voice cracked, desperate.

Silas didn't move. He sat there, lazily swirling the ice in his glass. He didn't even look at me.

"Humor her," he said, his voice flat. "Do this, and I'll marry you."

Chapter 2

Paiges fingers were steel claws. She pried my jaw open.

The glass tilted.

Liquid fire flooded my mouth. I choked, coughing violently. I tried to pull back, but the hands holding me were too strong. I gagged, choking as the vodka seared its way down my throat.

"Silas, is that... safe?" someone whispered, their voice laced with concern.

Silas didn't flinch. A dark, twisted amusement played on his lips.

"Relax. She has dementia." He took a slow sip of his own drink. "She won't remember a thing in the morning."

My lungs burned. I hacked, fighting for air, tears blurring my vision.

After I caught my breath...

I wrenched my arm free. I swung.

Crack.

My palm collided with his cheek.

The room went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.

A bright red handprint appeared on Silass pale skin.

Paige exclaimed. She tried to pounce on me, but Silas pushed her away. His expression was ice.

"Don't. I'm used to it."

---

He was lying.

I only found out I was sick this morning.

Id been in the kitchen, flour dusting my apron, excited to bake his birthday cake. Hed snatched the mixing bowl from my hands and dumped the batter straight into the trash.

Thud.

"Stop. I don't want it."

He used to love my cakes.

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Silas... are you mad at me?"

He lowered his head, ignoring the question, and handed me a silk tie. "Summer, fix this for me."

I reached out.

Then, I froze.

Heat spread down my legs. Soaking my jeans. Puddling on the floor.

Drip. Drip.

My brain stalled. The sound of liquid hitting the hardwood echoed in the silent apartment.

What... is happening to me?

Silass face went rigid.

He didn't yell. He didn't comfort me. He just crouched down and started wiping the floor with paper towels. Silent. Clinical.

I stood there, trembling, humiliation burning my cheeks.

"Silas... I don't... I don't know..."

He scrubbed his hands at the sink. Once. Twice. Three times. Like he couldn't get the feeling off him.

"You're sick," he finally said.

He turned to look at me. And there it was. Not pity. Not concern.

Pure, unadulterated disgust.

If I hadn't suffered beside him for years, building his empire from nothing, he would have dumped me right there.

After he left for work, I spent hours staring at the wall, trying to process the diagnosis. By noon, panic set in. I needed him.

I drove to his office. Thats when I saw her.

Paige.

She looked wreckedmud on her jeans, shivering like a leaf. But she was wrapped in his trench coat. Expensive. Warm.

She looked at him like he was her oxygen.

Silas played the part of the cold CEO, keeping his distance. But the moment she looked down... he watched her.

The hunger in his eyes terrified me.

---

We got home from the party late. The house was suffocating.

Silas loosened his tie, tossing his jacket onto the sofa. He dropped the bomb without looking at me.

"Paige is coming over in a few days to check on you. Behave. Don't start a fight."

I felt like I was fracturing. Too much. It was all too much.

"Check on me? Why? To see if I'm dead yet?"

"Summer." His voice was a low warning. "Stop being dramatic."

Chapter 3

"I know! I'm sick! Is that your excuse?"

My voice shredded the silence.

"You think it doesn't matter what you do to me. You think tomorrow I'll wake up with a blank slate. I'll roll over and love you like a pathetic idiot. Just like always. Right?"

I took a step closer, trembling.

"Silas, Im the one bleeding here. Why am I not allowed to scream?"

I grabbed his lapels. "If that woman steps foot in this house, I will kill her."

Silas didn't blink.

He held the back of my neck, applying slight pressure. He forced my head back until my spine arched, forcing me to look into his eyes.

He smiled. It was soft. Terrifying.

"Summer. Scream all you want. Break the furniture. Burn the house down." He looked at me gently. "But keep her out of it. This is between us."

Hes protecting her.

A wave of pure, white-hot rage crashed over me.

I spun away. I grabbed a porcelain vase from the display shelf and hurled it.

Shatter.

Shards of blue and white exploded across the hardwood. I didn't stop. Books, sculptures, picture frames. I swept them all onto the floor.

The room was a mess.

Silas stood amidst the wreckage, hands in his pockets. Unmoved.

"There's more in the bedroom if you're not done," he said, his voice flat. "Smash it all. I can always buy more."

His cold violence drove me crazy.

I launched myself at him. I sank my teeth into his wrist and bit down. Hard.

I tasted copper.

I ground my teeth, wanting to tear the flesh, wanting him to feel a fraction of my agony.

Silas didn't push me away. He winced, a flicker of pain crossing his features, but then he scooped me up in his arms.

He carried me into the bedroom, ignoring the blood staining his collar. He dumped me onto the mattress and leaned over, brushing a stray hair from my forehead.

"Little psycho," he whispered against my ear. "Be good tonight."

His breath ghosted over my skin.

"You've tried to break up with me eighteen times this month, Summer. You never remember."

He straightened up, looking down at me like I was a tragic specimen in a jar.

"This is it. This is your life now."

---

He was wrong.

Ive always been stubborn.

I was the girl who rode the subway across the city at 2 A.M. just to bring him soup when he was sick. I was the girl who could stay awake for forty-eight hours to finish a proposal.

And tonight, I was the girl who wouldn't sleep.

I lay in the dark, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. I replayed every insult. Every betrayal. Every second of humiliation.

I recited his crimes like a prayer. He hurt you. He chose her. He let her pour vodka down your throat.

I wouldn't let the morning steal this from me.

Dawn broke. Gray light filtered through the curtains.

His phone buzzed.

It was Paige. I didn't need to see the screen to know. She was "inviting" him for breakfast before work. A domestic ritual that belonged to me.

Silas slid out of bed. The rustle of fabric. The zip of trousers.

"Wait for me," he said.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

I threw off the covers. My legs felt heavy, but I dragged myself to the desk. I pulled the camcorder from the bottom drawer.

I needed to record this. I needed a backup hard drive for my brain.

Leave him. You have to leave him.

I fumbled with the controls. The screen flickered to life. But it wasn't a blank file.

There were old videos.

I hit play.

The timestamp was from my birthday. The camera shook, then focused on a crumpled piece of paper in my hand.

A receipt.

Silas and Paige. The Obstetrics & Gynecology department.

The list was clear: Prenatal vitamins. A scheduled ultrasound.

I fast-forwarded.

Our anniversary.

I found a reservation confirmation in his car. A five-star restaurant. Two tickets to a private cinema. The movie title: Ambiguous.

I wasn't the date.

The video cut to me. My face filled the frame, eyes swollen, red-rimmed.

"I'm pregnant," the past version of me whispered. Her voice broke. "But I can't tell Silas."

The camera panned down. A grainy ultrasound photo rested on my knee.

The screen went black.

Current time.

My breath hitched. The air left the room.

Last night.

Silas knew. He had to know. Yet, he sat there and watched Paige force-feed me 56-proof vodka. He watched me choke. He watched me beg.

A jagged shard of ice pierced my chest.

The pain wasn't abstract. It was physical. A cramping, twisting agony that started in my heart and radiated to my fingertips.

My stomach lurched.

I curled into a ball on the floor, shaking. Violent, uncontrollable shudders wracked my body.

I remembered. I remembered everything.

Chapter 4

I needed to end this. Now.

Every nerve in my body was vibrating. I couldn't wait another second. I drove to his office tower, my hands gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

I reached his floor. I pushed the heavy glass door openand froze.

Sobbing. Muffled, pathetic sobbing coming from inside.

"I regret it, Silas. I regret leaving you."

Silass voice was low. "Summer is sick, Paige."

"I know! But I can't wait anymore. The man I love is right in front of me, and Im supposed to just... watch?"

"Shut up."

The command was sharp. Ice cold. I flinched in the hallway.

"Don't ever say that in front of me again."

Before I could move, Nina, his secretary, sprinted over to block my path. Her eyes were wide, panicked.

"Summer! You can't go in there. Mr. Guuh, Silasis in a meeting."

"Fine."

I turned on my heel. I didn't leave. I walked straight to the lobby, right in front of the massive company bulletin board. The "Employee of the Month" photos.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the lipstick Silas had bought me. A dark, violent shade of red.

Pop.

Nina screamed. "Summer, what are you doing?!"

I ignored her. I drew a thick, jagged circle around Silass face. Then Paiges.

Across the glass, in dripping red letters, I wrote:

CHEATING SCUM.

The elevator dinged. Paige stormed out.

She froze. Her face drained of color. She grabbed a handful of tissues from a desk and started frantically scrubbing at the glass, smearing the red wax into a bloody mess.

"Are you insane? What is wrong with you?"

My lips curved up. "What do you think I'm doing? You... mistress."

I spat the word. Slow. Heavy.

Paiges eyes snapped to the crowd of employees watching. "Don't just stand there! Clean this up!"

They scrambled to obey her. She was already the boss here.

She turned back to me, and thats when I saw it.

A pearl hair clip. My hair clip. The one I left in Silass office last week.

It was pinned in her hair.

Her wet hair.

She had showered. In his office.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. My hand shot out, snatching at the clip.

"Get off me!" Paige shrieked.

She shoved me. Hard.

I stumbled back. My lower back slammed into the sharp edge of a mahogany desk.

Crash.

Files and the printer crashed to the floor. I collapsed into the mess.

For a second, I was numb.

Then, a sharp, twisting cramp seized my lower abdomen.

I gasped, curling in on myself. A bystander rushed to help me up, but my legs were shaking so hard I could barely stand.

Paige stepped close. Too close. She gripped my wrist, her nails digging into my skin.

"Stop the drama," she hissed, her voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. "I am not a mistress. Apologize. Now. In front of everyone."

Rage boiled in my chest, hot and suffocating.

But then, the sensation changed.

A warm, wet gush flooded between my legs.

Panic seized me.

Paiges eyes flicked up. She saw someone behind me. Instantly, her face crumpled. The venom vanished, replaced by theatrical tears.

"Summer, please! Just let me go!" she wailed, loud enough for the back row to hear. "I swear, theres nothing going on between Silas and me! Please... stop torturing me!"

A hand clamped onto my wrist from behind.

Iron grip. Painful.

I was yanked backward with enough force to snap my neck.

Silas.

Chapter 5

Silas pinned me against the wall.

Thud.

His forearm barred my throat. His face was inches from mine, twisted in a snarl.

"Summer. Did I, or did I not say, leave others out of this?"

It was the first time hed ever directed this kind of rage at me.

Behind him, Paige let out a soft, mewling whimper. Like a wounded kitten. Perfectly timed to trigger his savior complex.

Silas didn't look at her. He turned his glare on the room full of gawking employees.

"Ms. Paige and I have a strictly professional relationship," he announced, his voice steel. "If I hear one more rumor, I will sue you for everything you own. Are we clear?"

See? He was panicking. He was terrified for her reputation.

Drip.

A single red drop hit the white tile between my sneakers.

"Silas..." Ninas voice trembled. She pointed. "Look. She's... she's bleeding."

Silas froze. He looked down.

He saw the dark, crimson trail snake down the inside of my leg.

His head snapped back up. His eyes went wide. Horror.

I forced a smile. It was an ugly smile.

"Silas," I rasped. "Paige just killed our baby. Tell me... does she deserve to die for that?"

Whispers erupted around us like wildfire.

"Is that blood?"

"Did she just... piss herself?"

I looked down.

It wasn't just blood.

A clear, yellowish liquid mixed with the red, pooling around my shoes. My bladder had failed. Again.

Blood and urine.

The ultimate humiliation.

I stood there, exposed, broken, a spectacle for his entire company.

"I... I didn't mean to!" Paige stammered, backing away, hands raised in mock surrender. "She came at me! I thought she was going to hurt me!"

Silas didn't even look at her.

He whipped a silk handkerchief from his pocket and dropped to his knees.

He didn't care about the audience. He gripped my ankle.

"Don't move," he commanded, his voice shaking. "Let me clean this."

He scrubbed at my shoes, at the floor. His pristine, custom-tailored suit soaked up the filth. Blood and urine stained his cuffs.

"Silas..." Paige tried again.

"GET OUT!" Silas suddenly roared, startling me.

Silas didn't stop scrubbing. "Everyone! Get the fuck out! Now!"

Paige let out a sob, turned, and ran. The rest of the staff quickly dispersed.

The lobby went silent, save for the sound of Silass ragged breathing.

I stood in the puddle of my own making.

"Silas. If I disgust you, just say it."

He kept his head down. A thick vein pulsed in his temple.

"Summer," he said, his voice low and tight. "Hospital. We're going to the hospital."

"What about Paige?"

He stopped moving. He sounded exhausted. Defeated.

"Whatever you want."

"I never want to see her face again."

"Done," he said. "She's fired."

---

The house was a tomb when we got back from the ER.

Cold war.

I printed out the divorce papers.

Whirrr.

Silas fed them into the shredder. He didn't blink. He didn't speak. He just watched the paper turn into confetti.

"You're not leaving," he said.

He put me on house arrest.

His logic was bulletproof: I have no family. I have dementia. I soil myself when I get stressed.

"You wouldn't survive a day without me, Summer."

It was a special kind of hell. He hated meI could see it in his eyesbut he played the role of the devoted husband perfectly.

He came home at six.

He cooked dinner.

He sat across from me, chewing in silence.

A gilded cage. And I was the dying bird inside.

Chapter 6

He came home wearing a ring.

It sat on his fourth finger, glinting under the dining room chandelier. It was a gaudy, geometric design. I hated it.

It was exactly Paiges style.

I stared at his hand. My stomach turned.

"Take it off. Its making me sick."

Silas paused, his fork hovering halfway to his mouth. He didn't argue. He slid the metal band off his finger.

But he didn't put it on the table. He didn't throw it in the trash.

He slipped it into his pocket. Safe.

My appetite vanished. I dropped my fork. The metal clattered against the china, echoing in the silence. I stood up to leave.

"Summer. Let's get married."

I froze.

His voice came from behind me. Calm. Transactional.

A year ago, those words would have made me weep with joy. Now? They sounded like a business merger.

I knew why. His companys IPO was around the corner. Investors get skittish about scandals. A devoted wife plays better in the press than a mistress drama.

He didn't want a wife. He wanted damage control.

I turned around, a dry laugh escaping my throat.

"Marry you? So I can play the happy homemaker while you ring the bell at the Stock Exchange? Just to keep the stock price stable while you screw Paige on the side?"

I leaned in, my voice dropping to a whisper.

"Keep dreaming, Silas."

---

I underestimated his cruelty.

I woke up at noon to the sound of heavy boots and crashing furniture downstairs.

I walked out of the bedroom. My blood ran cold.

Strangers swarmed my house. Movers. Contractors.

And overseeing them all, sitting at my dining table, was Paige.

She sat there with her arms crossed. She was wearing my slippers.

"That crib," she pointed, her voice echoing up the stairs. "The bedding, the clothes in the wardrobe. Trash it all."

My breath hitched.

The nursery.

The door, which I had kept closed since the miscarriage, was wide open. The sanctuary I had built for my baby was being gutted.

"What are you doing?" I screamed, gripping the banister.

Paige looked up. A slow, poisonous smile spread across her face.

"Oh, good. You're awake."

She gestured around the room. The lady of the manor.

"Silas said we should remodel. Tear the nursery down. You know, so you don't get... triggered."

She took a sip of her coffee.

"Plus, it frees up a room. I need a place to stay when I move in."

Move in.

A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. My vision tunneled.

He promised. He swore she wouldn't come near me.

Now she was nesting in the grave of my dead child.

I ran down the stairs, barefoot. I skidded into the nursery.

It was a war zone. The crib lay in splinters. The tiny clothesthe ones Silas and I had picked out together, giggling in the storewere heaped in a pile of garbage.

My eyes scanned the wreckage frantically.

"The charm," I gasped. "Where is the charm?"

I had spent three months hand-stitching a traditional good luck charm for the baby. A small, embroidered pouch. It had been hanging on the crib.

I turned to Paige. "Where is it?"

She shrugged, bored.

"That ugly little thing? I tossed it."

"You... what?"

"It was tacky. I think I threw it in the garden? Or maybe the pool? Who cares about some cheap trinket"

"If I don't find that charm, you both die."

The scream tore from my throat, raw and primal.

I shoved her aside. Hard.

I didn't care about the glass on the floor. I didn't care about my bare feet.

I sprinted for the garden.

Chapter 7

Paige stood at the second-floor window, looking down like a queen surveying her subjects. Her voice drifted down to the garden, poison wrapped in silk.

"Look at the state of you, Summer."

"Do you really think you still deserve him?"

"His company is about to IPO. Hes going to be ringing the bell on Wall Street. He needs a partner. A showcase wife. Not a dementia patient who wets herself in the lobby."

She leaned against the frame, casual, cruel.

"Do me a favor. Stop guilt-tripping him with your pathetic 'history.' How much money do you want? Name the price. Just let him go."

"Look at you. Youre broken. What right do you have to ask for his love?"

I ignored her.

It was nearing dusk. I was on my hands and knees in the dirt, clawing through the overgrown shrubbery.

My white pajamas were gray with muck. Thorns tore at my shins. My feet were bleeding.

I didn't care.

It wasn't in the bushes.

I scrambled up, stumbling toward the swimming pool. It had to be there.

Thud.

I slammed into a solid chest.

Silas wrapped his arms around me, trapping my filth against his pristine suit. His voice was stern, tight with frustration.

"Why are you doing this? Youre a mess."

I gripped his lapels, bunching the expensive fabric in my dirty fists. I looked up, eyes burning.

"Silas. I lost our baby days ago. And youre already erasing him? You gutted the nursery?"

Thunder cracked overhead. Low, rolling drums. The air was stuffy, making people panic.

Silas flinched. He touched my cheek, but his eyes darted away. Guilt.

"The baby is gone, Summer. Keeping that room... it just hurts you."

Paige trotted out onto the patio. She stopped a few feet away, her voice trembling with performative fear.

"Silas... she's looking at me like she wants to kill me."

Silas didn't answer her. But his eyes locked onto her face. A tether I couldn't break.

I shoved him away.

I turned back to the pool. I had to find it.

"Summer, stop. It's dangerous."

He snagged my wrist. A shackle.

He tried to drag me back.

Pure, white-hot instinct took over. I sank my teeth into his forearm. Deep.

A low grunt vibrated in his chest.

He didn't pull away. He didn't let go.

I tasted salt. Then copper. Blood seeped through the fabric of his shirt.

The sky opened up.

Rain lashed down, cold and violent, turning the patio into a slick mirror. The pool water churned.

Paige rushed forward, popping an umbrella open. She held it over Silas, leaving me in the downpour. She leaned in, her voice a whisper meant only for me.

"Listen to Silas. Come inside. If you get too cold... you might have another accident in your pants."

She smirked.

It was a look of pure victory. She thought she had won. She thought I was a helpless invalid.

The rain hammered against the concrete. Behind me, the pool was a black void. A mouth waiting to be fed.

An indescribable rage flared up inside me.

I reached out.

My fingers tangled in Paige's wet hair. I yanked. Hard.

I drove her head toward the black water.

"Summer!"

Silas roared. He dropped to his knees, clawing at my waist, trying to wrench me back.

I didn't budge. Rage anchored me to the ground.

Chapter 8

I threw my entire body weight onto her, pressing her down.

Paige went under.

Her black hair floated on the surface. She thrashed. The water churned white around us. Bubbles exploded to the surface.

Then, she stopped fighting.

My muscles gave out. I let go.

She drifted to the edge, hacking, heaving. A wet, dying dog clawing at the tiles.

Silas went ghost-white.

He hauled her out of the water. He sat on the wet concrete, cradling her against his soaked chest. He slapped her back. Hard.

"Spit it out," he begged, his voice cracking. "Come on. Just breathe."

His hands were shaking. He was unraveling.

Paige kept her eyes squeezed shut and started whimpering.

"Don't let me see her... I don't want..."

Silas looked up at me. His eyes were burning with a rage Id never seen.

"Summer! Get inside!"

He turned back to her, his voice dropping to a soothing murmur. "I'm taking you to the hospital. You're okay."

"She can still talk?" I laughed, a raw, jagged sound. "Guess I didn't finish the job."

I lunged at her again.

"SUMMER!"

Silas threw his arm out. A shield for her. A weapon against me.

Impact.

Splash.

I lost my footing. The force of his shove sent me backward.

The water swallowed me.

It rushed into my nose, my mouth. Heavy. Suffocating.

I sank.

Before the darkness closed in, I looked up. Through the distortion of the water, I saw him.

Silas. Standing on the edge.

His eyes were cold. Detached.

He pushed me. Because I touched her