CHAPTER ONE

Lucy's POV

"Happy anniversary, honey!"

Today marked our third wedding anniversary.

Three years ago, I was Lucy Whitmore. Slim, radiant, and the rebellious daughter of a powerful family. But I gave up everything, my title and my inheritance just for a man who painted sunsets on cracked canvases and whispered that I was his muse.

And this morning, that same man, my husband, Tom, smiled at me as if nothing had changed, walking in with paint still drying on his hands.

I wiped the flour from my apron and returned the smile, mirroring the affection that I saw in his gaze.

"Happy anniversary." I replied, trying not to feel self-conscious about the muffin top folding under my shirt.

He dug into his old leather bag and pulled out three tickets.

"Surprise!" he declared, waving them with exaggerated flair.

I blinked. "What's this?"

"Hawaii trip next week." he grinned. "Beach BBQs, surfing, sunshine… I figured we all needed a break."

My heart swelled. I never liked tropical trips. Swimsuits only reminded me I was overweight. The frumpy wife in every room.

"You, me, and Noah." he added, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Do you like it?"

I was floored. My paint-covered, daydreaming husband suddenly became romantic? Maybe he hadn't forgotten us after all.

"Okay! Yes!" I said excitedly.

"Yes!" Tom exclaimed.

"Oh, honey, we're going to have the best time!"

I wanted to believe that-I almost did, until he said what he had next.

"And one more thing. Blair. She's coming with us." Tom added casually.

My smile faltered. "Blair? Our-our neighbor, Blair?" I was dumbfounded.

"Yeah."

I paused for seconds, waiting for the 'gotcha' moment. It never came. "You're joking…right?"

He shook his head casually. "No. She got some amazing discounts. And she used to be a part-time tour guide. She knows the island like the back of her hand. Better our guide be someone we know, right?"

My stomach clenched.

"Tom, this is our anniversary trip. Who invites another person on an anniversary trip?" I just couldn't wrap my head around it.

"Lucy," he groaned.

"She helped a lot with those tickets. So, I don't see why she can't come."

I was in utter shock.

"On our anniversary trip? Tom, she's a stranger. And this trip-it's for our family. You, me, and Noah. Remember?"

"She's not a stranger. And we shouldn't worry about expenses for our precious trip, right?" He didn't even pause.

I didn't have a chance to respond before Noah ran in, clutching his little dinosaur toy.

"What?! Hawaii trip? And Blair's coming?!" he squealed.

"Noah, sweetie, Blair won't be coming with us this time. This trip is just for us."

His temper flared. "No!" he turned to Tom as he could overturn any decision I made. "Dad, why can't Blair come?" Noah glared at me. "You're being mean! I wish Blair was my mommy instead!"

Noah's words left me speechless, a physical blow to my heart.

I tried to blink back tears and explain, "Honey, it's just—"

"It's not fair! If she can't go, I won't go!" Noah spatted.

How could I combat that? Noah had his heart set on Blair coming. When I looked at Tom for support, he just sighed, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"Don't make a big deal out of this, honey. Let's not ruin the mood, alright?"

I forced a smile. "Okay…"

But something inside me had already broken.

Blair moved in six months ago. I remembered it like yesterday. Noah accidentally kicked a ball straight through her kitchen window. I ran over. I was horrified and apologized to her. But she just laughed it off like it was charming. She stood there, all legs and honey curls, in tight yoga pants and a crop top that never seemed to shift out of place.

Since then, she was always around. She lived alone, but somehow, she never seemed lonely. Tom helped her fix her sink, her shelves, even her TV. She baked pies, real ones, not store-bought, and said things like "I just had extra, so I thought I'd share." And it became our favorite.

I wanted to believe she was just friendly. But I always felt watched, replaced, and slowly edged out.

Noah adored her. Tom laughed too easily when she was around. And me? I kept shrinking, folding myself smaller and smaller until all that remained was a quiet ache behind my smile.

That night, as I folded laundry and tucked Noah into bed. I resolved to talk to Tom again. To ask-no, beg for space or boundaries. To remind him that this trip was for us.

But suddenly, the doorbell rang. Before the door swung open, I knew who it was. Blair walked in like she was performing.

She was wearing a tight tank dress that hugged every inch of her figure. Her blonde curls bounced like they'd been professionally styled. Her arms were perfectly toned. She held a tray of cupcakes and an oversized smile.

"Noah!" she called.

"Oh, Blair," I said. "Noah's actually in bed-"

"Aunty Blair!" Before I could finish my sentence, Noah came shuffling out of his room and into her arms, giggling like she'd just walked out of a fairy tale.

Tom walked over with a grin and a glass of iced coffee. "Thought you'd need this."

Blair winked at him. "Thanks. You know me so well."

I stood there, invisible. Watching them. Listening to their laughter. The three of them fit like puzzle pieces.

"I brought a little something for the trip." Blair announced, pulling out a shopping bag.

My chest tightened. She handed Tom a red baseball cap, bright and sleek.

"And one for Noah."

He squealed in delight, putting it on right away. "We match!"

"I've got one too." she said, pulling out an identical red cap and slipping it over her curls.

"We'll be the red trio, easy to find in a crowd." she chuckled.

My hands clenched at my sides.

Then she looked at me with mock surprise.

"Oh! Lucy. I didn't forget you." she smiled.

She reached into the bag and pulled out a dull, floppy sun hat, beige, wide-brimmed, wrinkled like it'd been shoved to the bottom of a thrift bin.

"I am sorry. I couldn't find one in your size." she said with a sad little smile. "But this one's practical. More sun coverage."

Tom chuckled. "It'll be perfect for you."

I took it with numb fingers. The hat was… ugly. I walked to the mirror in the hallway. Slowly put the hat on, and stared at my reflection.

The woman who looked back wasn't me.

She was heavier. She looked tired. Her eyes were dull. Her cheeks were round. The hat swallowed her face. In short, she looked like someone's aging aunt on a gardening trip.

I shifted my gaze to watch them.

Tom, Noah, and Blair in the reflection. They're laughing wearing their red hats glowing like a neon sign. Like the perfect little family.

I smiled bitterly.

And for the first time in three years, I asked myself a question I had no answer for.

Had I already been replaced?

---

CHAPTER TWO

Lucy's POV

After Blair finally left, Tom hugged me from behind.

His arms wrapped around my waist, the waist that used to be slender, but now, it was soft and wide beneath the folds of my cotton dress. He rested his chin on my shoulder like nothing had happened. Like I hadn't just stood there being handed a sunhat meant for someone's great-aunt.

"You're quiet. Everything okay?"

I couldn't believe he even had to ask. Did he really think that the way he doted on Blair wouldn't make me feel insecure?

He was so oblivious, I questioned whether I was just overreacting. Maybe I was.

A question, I just couldn't shake finally slipped out when I faced him

"Do you still love me?" I suddenly asked.

He stiffened. "What?"

"Tom, I know things aren't like they used to be." My voice cracked.

"How so?" He tried shifting the mood, to pull me in with his smile like he always did, but I wouldn't budge. Not this time.

"Look at me, Tom! I'm not slim like Blair. I'm fat, and frumpy. I-I don't move like her, i don't-I don't laugh like her. I don't even dress like her." I choked back tears, my insecure gaze unable to meet his.

He didn't answer immediately. My heart paused. What was I expecting? Then he turned me around gently, looking me straight in the eyes.

"Lucy," He spoke softly, his thumb a tender caress across my cheek. "You're the girl I lovingly made fat."

I let out a surprised chuckle, but it died halfway through.

"I mean it." He smiled.

"You're still the same woman I fell for. Maybe you just got rounder and softer, but you're still mine. I love you, no matter how you look. Okay?" he cupped my face.

My heart skipped. I needed to hear those words. And I wanted to believe him. But something inside me had shifted. My silence lingered a little too long. Tom sighed and pulled out his phone. I watched him and he began tapping something.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm canceling the trip. If this is how you feel, then we're not going." he said.

I was surprised. Would he really do that for me? And if so, was it selfish of me to be okay with it?

I smiled, but my smile faded away when Noah shouted.

"No! I want to go! Don't cancel, Dad, please!" He was already crying.

My heart suddenly broke. I hated seeing him cry.

"Tom, stop." I grabbed his hand, immediately changing my mind. "Please don't. Noah's been looking forward to this. I'll be fine. I'm just being emotional." I softly said.

Tom hesitated. But then, he slowly put his phone inside his pocket. I forced a smile and hugged Noah as tightly as I could. But inside, my heart was wrapped in barbed wire.

A few days later, I sat in our bedroom packing for a trip I didn't want. Then I noticed something. I pulled out the photo album from the bottom drawer. I wiped the dust and slowly flipped it open, and there we were. Tom and I on our wedding day.

He in his white shirt splattered with blue paint. Me in my simple gown. I was wearing the simple necklace Tom saved up for. It was simple. And yet it was the happiest day of my life.

Back then, everyone thought I was crazy. Giving it all up to marry a struggling painter with no future. But I was so tired of having my life mapped out for me. The galas, the arranged suitor dinners, and the suffocating legacy. I wanted something real. And I found it in Tom's stained hands and crooked grin.

He was my world. Not extravagant or overly gallant, but artistic and most importantly free.

I cut ties with the Whitmores for him, and started over as a pastry chef in a humble Western café. I traded cocktail dresses and caviar for aprons and donut holes.

But somewhere along the way, I lost myself. I got fat. Tom's cooking was divine and seductive. I couldn't resist and kept gaining weight.

At first, I laughed it off saying it was love weight or I'd lose it. But every attempt ended in tears and a bigger pant-size.

Then came the diagnosis, Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.

I still remembered how the doctor looked at me when she said, "You may never be able to carry children."

I'd expected Tom to be angry-devastated even. But instead, he'd just shrugged and held my hand.

"Whether we can share a child by flesh or adoption, I'll still love you."

Those words meant a lot to me that day. He never made me feel like I was to blame for my body betraying me. And I loved him for that.

Recalling that moment in time, a small smile played at the corner of my lips as I turned the page to see the next photo. It was of Noah, his infectious smile with chocolate plastered across his cheek

It was almost two years to the day since Tom had come home holding the dirty little hand of a cute, blonde haired, brown-eyed boy.

"Lucy, I couldn't just leave him there," he said. "He was near the park. Alone and hungry. I had to help."

No police report. No record. It was like the boy didn't exist. But something in Tom couldn't let him go.

We took Noah in and got him checked. He's asthmatic, fragile, but sweet. Months later, we adopted him. I became a mother, and it was the best feeling ever. But I could tell that he gravitated closer to Tom than me. And now Blair. That thought made my stomach twist.

Suddenly, my alarm buzzed.

I snapped out of my thoughts. I wiped my tears and grabbed my purse. It was my day off and I promised to pick Noah up from school.

The sun was warm and sticky as I walked through the school gates. I passed a group of little girls chatting near the entrance.

"Noah's mommy is soooo pretty!" one girl giggled.

"I know, right? I wish I had her shiny long hair!"

Their voices trailed behind me like whispers I wasn't meant to hear. Pretty? Shiny, long hair? I glanced down at my sweat-stained blouse, the roll of flesh at my waist, the frizzy hair stuck to my neck.

They couldn't be talking about me.

When the school doors opened, the kids came pouring out, I spotted Noah. I lifted my hand.

"Noah! Over here!"

But he didn't even look at me. He ran past me and straight into Blair's arms. I stood shocked and frozen. Blair stood by the gate, flawless in white.

"Mom!" Noah shouted. But it wasn't me he was talking to. It was Blair.

She kissed his head. He held her hand like she was everything. I couldn't move.

What just happened?

---

CHAPTER THREE

Lucy's POV

Mom… He just called Blair mom.

In an ideal world, this would have just been some nightmare.

She had to have been the 'mom' that the kids were referring to earlier.

I was without words. I was confused, but most of all, I was hurt. A storm of emotions I couldn't weather..

I got home. My body was still weak from everything I'd witnessed with Noah and Blair.

I was so out of it, that I hadn't even realized I was standing at the threshold of the living room until I heard Tom's voice.

"Hey, you're home," he casually said.

When I looked up, I found Tom lying on the couch, his hands stained, and eyes on the TV.

I wanted to scream, but I held my composure as I asked, "Tom," my voice low with worry. "Why was Blair…at the school?"

"Huh?" he absentmindedly replied.

"Blair," I repeated more aggressively than before. "She was there. At the school. To pick up Noah.

His eyes widened, surprised, like he didn't expect me to find out.

"Lucy," he sighed. "I was really busy today. You know I just finished a painting. I just needed a break. And I didn't want to bother you. I know you're busy too. Besides, Blair loves Noah.

She was happy to."

I nodded, but something felt off. This didn't feel like the first time. Had he been asking Blair to pick up our son behind my back? Without consulting me?

"You should have called me, Tom. Noah is my son. Not Blair's. He's my responsibility. Not hers." I added, my voice rising despite my efforts.

I stalked into the kitchen angrily. Tom wasn't far behind. I went into the fridge and popped open a bottle of water to cool down before he cornered me again.

"Lucy… are you mad?" he asked, his tone soft.

Who wouldn't be mad? I wanted to tell him everything. About how I felt, but I didn't even know how to begin to verbalize it.

"I'm sorry, honey. I promise I'll ask you next time." he whispered, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "I love you. You know that."

I sighed. Every time I got upset, he always knew the right words to say to soften me up.

"By the way..." he added, chuckling.

"I made your favorite- blueberry cheesecake." he grinned.

My stomach fluttered. He knew I couldn't resist his desserts. I'd been trying to avoid sweets, but Tom never made it easy for me.

"Tom, you kno—"

He cut me off. He already knew what I was about to say.

"Come on, Lucy. You really going to waste this? You're not fat, okay? You're sexy in my eyes. Don't let other people make you feel less." he smiled.

As I said; always the right words. I gave in, grabbed a spoon and started eating.

Then the front door opened. Noah came, his smile bright. But his smile quickly dissipated into disgust when he saw me. Eating.

I was heartbroken.

"Eww, Mom! You're eating again? Look at you. You're already too fat like a pig..." he sneered.

I froze, spoon mid-air, mouth partially agape. And fully embarrassed.

"Aunty Blair doesn't eat so much like you," he added.

Double kill. I dropped the spoon. Shame hit me like a slap. My own son thought I was disgusting. I hated how easily I gave in to Tom's desserts. I hated how Noah looked at me with nothing but judgment.

"Noah! That's not how you treat your mom!" Tom reprimanded.

Noah rolled his eyes. He wasn't sorry, but annoyed..

"Tom." I said quietly, forcing a sad smile. "It-it's fine," I lied.

Yes, Noah was still young. But Tom was right that he shouldn't speak to me that way. Still, it was the truth, wasn't it?

"Apologize to your mom." Tom said.

Noah huffed, staring irately at me. Like I was the reason he was in trouble.

"I'm sorry, Mom." he said coldly.

It wasn't sincere. But I shrugged it off. Telling myself, he was just a child, having a tantrum like children do.

"It's okay, Noah." I smiled gently through the hurt I felt. "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"Fine." his tone, low and sullen as he headed to his room for the night.

The next morning, I left work early to bake cookies for Noah. I was excited. I knew he couldn't resist my candied, chocolate chip cookies.

"I'll go now. I don't want to be late!" And rushed out of the door.

I couldn't stop smiling as I reached his school. I found a good spot where he could see me right away when the kids came out. I even wore a nice dress. I wanted to look presentable.

Even a fat person can look pretty. Right?

Finally, the bell rang. I stood up eagerly. A few minutes later, I spotted Noah.

"Noah!" I waved. "Honey! I brought you cookies!" I exclaimed, hoping that him knowing that would sweeten the pot of me picking him up instead of Blair.

He didn't respond. He didn't even glance at me.

Then a boy beside him turned to me with a laugh.

"You're Noah's nanny, right?"

My chest tightened. Nanny?

"No, hon." I said. "I'm Noah's mom."

"What? No, you're not." another boy replied, confused.

I already knew who they meant. And my heart shattered all over again.

"Yeah," the first kid said. "Noah's mom is a pretty lady with long blonde hair."

My throat went dry. They were talking about Blair. I ignored them and looked at Noah. He was glaring at me, and before I held his hand, he turned and ran without a word.

"Noah!" I called, voice cracking.

He didn't even look back. I stood frozen and humiliated.

The boys walked away while still laughing. They laughed at him for lying, saying Blair was prettier, while calling me the fat nanny mom. I looked at myself and hated myself more. My efforts were useless. The dress didn't work. I looked at the cookies and smiled bitterly.

Fighting tears, I forced myself to head home. I couldn't find Noah. Maybe he had gone ahead with friends. He'd done it before.

As I unlocked the gate, my phone buzzed.

"Tom," I answered, biting my lip. "I just got home. Noah ran off earlier—"

"Lucy," his voice cut in, panicked. "Noah's been rushed to the hospital! He had an asthma attack, some kids teased him about lying. I'm on my way now."

I froze. The cookies slipped from my hands.

This was all my fault.

---

CHAPTER FOUR

Lucy's POV

I arrived at the hospital, rushing through the automatic doors, my feet barely touching the ground. My chest felt tight like it was trying to match Noah's lungs, failing to breathe right after being teased for calling the wrong woman his mother and even his nanny.

"Thank God." I whispered.

I was relieved to see that Noah was okay. He was sitting in a room. His eyes were puffy from crying, and an oxygen mask was covering his small face.

"Noah, my dear, are you okay?" I walked toward him slowly.

The moment he saw me, he whimpered, not with relief, but disgust.

"Get out!" he shouted, glaring at me. "I want Aunty Blair. Not you."

Each word felt like a knife to the heart. My son was mad at me. I walked backwards and let Tom comfort him. He didn't stop mentioning Blair.

He was asking for Blair and not me. Even Tom was shocked. He looked helpless, staring at me, mouthing 'I'm sorry.'

I smiled, just a little. Just enough to hide the sting. "It's okay." I whispered. "It's okay, honey."

But it wasn't. I wasn't.

I froze at the door, one hand gripping the frame, the other holding my bag like it was the only thing keeping me standing.

Blair arrived just minutes later. Her heels clicked with a confidence I could never fake. Her voice was a soft lullaby when she entered.

"Hey, sweetheart." she cooed, brushing Noah's hair from his flushed face.

He lit up like the sun had walked into the room.

I watched through the glass like I wasn't his mother, but a stranger who was uninvited and forgotten. Blair was sitting beside him, holding his hand. Tom was on the other side, ruffling his hair gently.

The perfect picture of a family. And I wasn't in it. A tear rolled down my cheek. I quickly wiped it, trying to mask my vulnerability.

Blair came out after calming Noah.

"Noah's fine now. I'm sorry." she said, with that too-perfect smile.

"Tom told me what happened earlier. Noah's just in a phase, Lucy. Kids push boundaries. Maybe he sees me more because I've been around lately. I promise I'm not trying to—"

"It's okay." I cut in, voice too calm. "I understand."

She smiled again, this time almost… pitifully. "I'm here if you need anything."

Then she went back inside. Where I couldn't go. I swallowed my pride for the sake of Noah. Even if it was breaking my heart, I don't care.

Back home, the silence felt heavier than usual. I stood in the kitchen for a long time, watching the empty cookie container on the counter, my mind bogged down by the horrible day.

Tom came in later, jacket slung over his arm. He looked exhausted. But still, he smiled at me, trying to make things better.

Before he could even say anything, I blurted, "I'm sorry. It was my fault." I exhaled to hold back tears..

"No, Lucy. It wasn't your fault. I talked to the school." he said.

"It was his classmates. They teased him, told him he was a liar for saying you were not his mom. That's what triggered the attack." he was trying to comfort me.

But it didn't work. Not this time.

"No," I murmured. "It was me. I upset him. I embarrassed him."

Tom stepped forward and held my shoulders. "Don't say that. It wasn't you. It's those bratty kids."

He meant well. But the more Tom tried to convince me that it was kids that were at fault, the more I felt I was the problem. If I didn't insist on picking him up, this wouldn't have happened.

"I'll go to Noah's school tomorrow. Those kids won't get away with this." he firmly said.

"Please." I whispered. "Just let it go. Don't cause more trouble at the school." I sighed.

His eyes searched mine. "Lucy, are you sure?" He cupped my cheeks.

"Yes." I nodded.

He sighed. "Fine, but I'll still need to go there, talk to them about what happened to Noah."

I smiled weakly. "Okay."

The Hawaii trip was right around the corner. Two days, to be exact. But I was no longer excited. I just wanted to stay home. If I could just do that.

It didn't help that Noah still wasn't talking to me. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was starting to hate me.

"You're still not packing?" Tom asked, standing by the bedroom door.

I shook my head, folding one of Noah's shirts. "I don't feel like going."

"Lucy, don't say that. This trip might help us reconnect." he said gently. "Maybe the beach will fix what we can't say out loud."

He was right. There were things that needed to be said out loud. But the hope of that happening felt like sand slipping through my fingers.

"Come on, Lucy. We can't cancel this trip. If we do, Noah will hate us more. Do you want that? You know how excited he was." He held my hand.

I looked down and sighed. For Noah. "You really think this will help us reconnect?" I asked.

Tom's eyes widened, and nodded confidently. He squeezed my hands gently and smiled.

"Yes, Lucy. I am sure of it." he said with so much reassurance I actually believed him.

Two days later, the trip to Hawaii came. Noah was very excited. Even Tom and Blair. It was just me who wasn't.

"Yehey! Hawaii, here we come!"

The airport was loud and bright. But I only heard one thing, Noah's laughter and excitement. It was light and loud. He clung to Blair's hand and Tom's, and even wore his red baseball cap backwards, just like his dad.

They were all smiles. All bubbly with laughter and excitement. .

As for me, I followed behind, dragging the luggage. I looked like a helper. Like an extra in a picture perfect movie.

Blair carried Noah's backpack. Tom carried him when he got tired. While I carried everything else. And none of it felt heavier than the ache in my chest.

That's when I started to realize...

I shouldn't have come.

---

CHAPTER FIVE

Lucy's POV

I thought arriving here in Hawaii would reconnect us and help me unwind, but everything that happened only made me more stressed.

"Noah, go wash up and change into your pajamas." I told him.

We had just arrived back at our room after shopping and eating dinner outside on the veranda.

"Tom, can we talk?" I called out.

"Not now, Lucy. I'm exhausted." he complained.

"Please." I rolled my eyes and sighed.

He didn't say anything and just nodded. We headed to the kitchen.

"Tom, why are we paying for Blair's expenses?" I scoffed.

Since we arrived, I noticed she hadn't paid for anything. It was very hurtful to see, especially since we had a tight budget. Not to brag, but I'd been supporting our family for years with my small salary, since his paintings were hard to sell.

"Lucy, can we not talk about this right now?" Tom said, massaging his forehead.

"No, Tom. Let's talk about it now. I already agreed for her to come, and now I'm also covering her expenses. This is unfair." I groaned.

Tom shook his head. I could tell by the wrinkle in his brow that he was getting frustrated.

"Blair barely eats, and like I said, she's a close friend. She's not some stranger. I already told you she helped me get discounts on this trip. We should be thankful." he said, lowering his voice.

"It's not just about her meals, Tom. Her shopping? Her room? She's even staying in a large room right next to ours." I sighed quietly. "The money that we saved on the discounts are being spent on her!"

Tom didn't respond, just shrugged his shoulders and left for bed. I took a deep breath and groaned, feeling that familiar pang of invisibility.

The next day, Blair woke us up wearing that smug look I hated the most. It was like she knew that her presence sent me and Tom to bed upset with one another most nights.

"Guys! I found the most amazing place for brunch. Like, I swear. This place is heaven. Many celebrities love to eat here." Blair twirled her sunglasses as she spoke, the excitement in her voice bordering on theatrical.

"Brunch?" I rubbed my sleepy eyes, my back already sore from doing everything, from carrying go-bags for the beach to cleaning up after Tom, Noah, and even Blair from time to time…

"Yeah! Brunch! Not just your basic eggs and toast." She leaned in toward Noah, her tone dipping into something sweet and suggestive.

Of course, I know what brunch is. I decided not to say that out loud, though.

"They serve things like truffle caviar toast, lobster thermidor, handcrafted cocktails with edible flowers. It's exclusive. Locals only. But I pulled some strings."

Tom grinned. "Sounds fancy."

I forced a smile. "Is it in our budget?"

Blair let out a dramatic gasp, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, Lucy. Come on. It's vacation. Live a little!"

Noah jumped in before I could say more. "Can we go, Mom? Please?"

And just like that, we were walking into one of the most elegant cliffside restaurants I'd ever seen. The place was wide. White curtains fluttering, golden sunlight pouring through the open archways, the clink of champagne flutes and soft jazz in the background. Everything smelled like sea breeze and rich people.

A hostess led us to a corner table with a breathtaking view of the ocean. I felt out of place, wearing my old sandals and a cover-up that did little to hide my body.

Blair looked like she belonged there. Like she owned the entire place with her cinched waist, halter-top sundress with a slit that ran the length of her upper thigh.

"This is where celebrities come when they don't want to be seen." she whispered loud enough for other tables to hear.

Tom chuckled. For some reason he found entertainment in her bland remark.

Noah bounced in his seat. "I can't wait to try!"

I tried to keep my focus on the menu. My fingers trembled as I flipped through. My eyes grew bigger. Everything was expensive. Even the water had a price.

Then Blair suddenly gasped.

"Oh. My. God." She pointed dramatically at the centerfold of the menu, like she'd found buried treasure. "You guys. We must get this."

I leaned over and froze. Lobster thermidor. Three hundred dollars.

"Blair." I kept my voice low. "That's way over our budget."

"Ohh. Okay, let's-

Before she could respond, Noah slammed his little hand on the table.

"I want lobster! Mom, you said I could pick today!"

Tom raised an eyebrow at me, that same silent pressure in his eyes. 'Don't ruin the mood. Everyone is staring at us'.

I looked between them, Tom, Noah, Blair, and suddenly felt like I was the outsider crashing their perfect little family.

"Fine." I said, quieter than I had intended.

Blair clapped her hands. "Yay! Trust me, Lucy. It's the restaurant's signature dish. We're going to love it."

When the food came out, the lobster was placed in the center like a crown jewel. Butter steamed in a porcelain pot beside it.

"This is divine." Blair moaned after the first bite. "Mmm. So worth it."

Tom wiped her chin with a napkin, chuckling. "You've got sauce here."

Then as if remembering I was sitting there, he glanced at me and smiled, his hand touching mine under the table. I was too upset to even push him away.

Noah seemed to love the lobster. I didn't even know he liked it. He never ate it when I cooked it.

My stomach turned. I picked at my salad silently. I didn't touch the lobster, not a single bite.

That night, Blair stayed late in our room, playing cards with Noah until I had to remind her it was bedtime.

"Let's go surfing tomorrow at my secret beach." Blair suggested before leaving.

"Secret beach? What's the name?" I asked.

"Seluna Beach." she said, clapping her hands.

I grabbed my phone and searched for it. My stomach twisted.

"Blair, it says Seluna Beach isn't recommended for tourists. The tides are unpredictable—"

"Nah, that's just internet talk." she laughed, cutting me off. "I've been there a dozen times. It's totally fine." she shrugged.

Tom leaned back in his chair. "Lucy, stop worrying so much."

"Yeah, Mom." Noah chimed in, pouting. "Why do you always ruin the fun?"

I looked at their faces and knew I'd lost again.

"Okay." I whispered.

The three of them lit up with excitement. I walked to the window, eyes fixed on the dark sea. I didn't know why, but something felt wrong.

---

CHAPTER SIX

Lucy's POV

"Mom! Wake up! It's beach day!"

I groaned into my pillow. It was still dark outside. It was six in the a.m. But Noah was already jumping on the bed like it was Christmas morning. He was very excited.

"Stop it, Noah." I muttered, pulling the blanket over my head.

"No! We're going to Blair's beach! You promised!" he whined, bouncing harder. "Get up, get up!"

Tom stirred beside me and yawned, stretching like he hadn't just slept through me tossing all night.

"Let him be excited." he mumbled, turning away from both of us.

Easy for him to say. He didn't have to pack the bags. He didn't have to make the sandwiches or worry about sunscreen and safety and whether our son could drown at some secret beach.

Noah finally climbed down and ran out to change. "I'm wearing my shark trunks!" he yelled.

I sat up. My body, already sore. My shirt stuck to me, my thighs felt swollen from yesterday's walking, and my eyes stung from sleep. I could already tell that this wasn't going to be a good day.

We arrived at Blair's so-called secret beach just before noon. The sun was high, the breeze was salty, and the sand was scorching. The place looked untouched, probably because people knew better than to come here.

"This is it!" Blair twirled around with a grin.

Her red sarong flew like she was in some perfume commercial.

"Welcome to Seluna Beach!" she said like she owned the place.

It was beautiful. But something about the silence here felt wrong. It was too quiet. I pulled out my phone to search for a signal. I had no bars. But one thing managed to come through, flashing across the screen.

High surf advisory Warning.

"Blair! Tom!" I said, holding it up, "There's a warning. We shouldn't—"

"Lucy, seriously? I come here all the time. It's fine." She waved me off like a child.

Tom sighed like he was already tired of me.

"Lucy, don't be too nervous. We're going to be fine." he said.

Fine? The warning that flashed across my phone screen clearly stated otherwise.

"Mom, please don't spoil the fun again!" Noah kicked at the sand.

I remained silent and put my phone back inside the bag, trying not to be the debbie-downer everyone was accusing me of. But anxiety was revived up to ten.

"Here. Drink this. You're too uptight. Maybe it will help you relax." Blair handed me a drink from the cooler.

She said she made it. It was bright orange, probably loaded with sugar and vodka. But for some reason, I felt suspicious.

"It's just to help you calm down." Tom said, already pulling off his shirt.

Blair added with a smile, "It's safe, Lucy. Just something sweet to give your body a little energy."

Even Noah chimed in, "Come on, Mom! Just a sip won't hurt."

Reluctantly, I brought it to my lips. It was too sweet, oddly strong. I swallowed anyway.

They both assured me again it was fine, then hurried off to the water with Noah.

I stayed behind, sinking into the beach chair as I watched them surf not far away, laughing, shouting, and playing like a perfect little trio.

The sun pressed down on me as I gradually noticed my limbs grow heavier by the second. And then... I started to drift.

When I woke up, everything felt wrong. I could feel the waves on my body. My skin was cold. I blinked hard, and the sky wasn't the same soft blue I remembered. It had turned gray.

And the water wasn't calm anymore. Waves slammed over my legs, soaking the beach chair. I started to panic.

I sat up fast, my heart jumping into my throat. I got worried when I couldn't spot them. I gasped for air.

"Tom?!" I called out, my voice cracked and hoarse.

I stood up, stumbling forward. My feet sank deep into the wet sand as the tide rushed around my ankles. I turned and scanned the shore, the water, and the rocks.

And then I saw them. Blair's hand gripping Noah's, while Tom on the other side. They were running away from the water. They were running away from me.

My legs were so weak, I could hardly move. A desperate cry muted in my burned throat, my voice unable to make a sound as I tried to yell for help.

"Tom!" I screamed again, louder this time.

But they didn't stop. They didn't even look back like they had forgotten about me, or like I didn't exist.

I screamed again until my throat burned raw. Maybe…maybe he didn't hear me. So, I just…kept screaming. I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

But the wind swallowed my voice. The waves laughed at it. No one turned around. I watched their silhouettes get smaller and smaller.

My knees gave out, and I collapsed into the wet sand. The sea was climbing up my legs like it wanted all of me. The chair I'd been lying on was already gone, floating uselessly behind me like the rest of this damn trip.

A wave slammed into my side, knocking me flat. Salty, cold water filled my ears, then my mouth, and my nose.

"He--ahh!" I tried to scream again, but the water choked me out, filling my lungs until all I could do was gasp.

My arms flailed uselessly, heavy, drunk from the drink Blair handed me earlier. I tried to crawl forward, to stand, but the sand slipped under my hands. The ocean yanked at my waist harder. And then I was under. I couldn't breathe. I kicked once. Twice. But there was nothing to push against. The water kept pulling me deeper and deeper.

Was this my ending? But as hope waned, I began to come to grips with the fact that maybe drowning was the better alternative to living this way…

Then, I was grabbed by a strong hand just as my vision went dark.

---

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lucy's POV

The subtle sound of beeping machines stirred me awake. My vision came into focus on the white walls surrounding me, the scent of sterility burning my sensitive nose.

My body felt heavy. Like something was pressing down on me. My mouth tasted like metal. Something cold and plastic was stuck in my arm. I tried to move, but even lifting my hand made my whole body ache. Everything hurts.

I blinked slowly to realize I was still alive. And then it hit me. Flashes of me drowning, and no one even came back for me.

I turned my head weakly, and then I saw Tom. Sitting right beside the bed. Slouched forward like he hadn't slept. His shirt was wrinkled. His eyes looked red and puffy, like maybe he cried.

"Lucy… You're okay." he breathed, as soon as he saw my eyes open.

I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure how to feel. I wasn't even sure if I wanted him here. The door creaked open. I heard them before I saw them. Blair and Noah.

They walked in like they were entering a birthday party. Carrying takeout bags. Laughing about something. Their hands locked together like a happy little team.

They paused when they noticed I was awake.

"Mom!" Noah ran to me and jumped into my arms like nothing happened.

I held him, because he's still my son. But something inside me cracked. He was still a child, I had to tell myself. What could he have done to help me?

"You scared me." Noah said softly. "You almost drowned."

I didn't respond. Because in my head, all I kept hearing was the way I screamed their names. And no one came.

"Thank God you're okay, Lucy!" Blair chirped, stepping closer.

She grabbed my hand with both of hers, squeezing it like we were best friends.

I just looked at her. Did she really believe I was stupid enough to fall for this? I wanted to snatch away. I wanted to slap her. Because I couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't have happened if she weren't here.

"You were so lucky that a diver passed by. He saved you just in time." she said like she was narrating a scene in a movie.

"You must be so exhausted. Are you hungry? Noah and I picked out some food for you." She acted like nothing happened.

I almost died.

And none of the three people in this room had even searched for me. But now here they were smiling, pretending, handing me food like it would fix everything.

It made it worse.

That night, I insisted on being discharged from the hospital. I couldn't stand the thought of the three of them playing house at the hotel while I lay in a sterile bed, forgotten.

Tom paid the bill. Blair with all smiles, she carried most of our things like some proud, and helpful wife. Tom and Noah held my hands, one on each side, as if we were a perfect little family again.

Everything felt fake.

I didn't have the strength to sit through another round of their pretend happiness.

Tom helped Noah into his pajamas like everything was normal. He knelt beside him, tucked the blanket just under his chin, even whispered something that made Noah giggle softly.

I stood by the door, arms crossed, pretending not to care but I saw it. Every careful gesture. Every soft word. Like he was trying to earn back points I never agreed to give.

After Noah fell asleep, Tom came back into the room holding a glass of water and my pills like usual.

"The doctor said you need to drink this before sleeping," he said.

He sat down by the edge of the bed. I nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

"Thank you." I said quietly, because I didn't know what else to say.

He paused for a moment, like he was waiting for something. Maybe a smile. Maybe a conversation. But I didn't give him anything. Not anymore.

After I swallowed the pills, I handed him back the glass. I turned away and curled up on my side of the bed. I didn't want to see his face. But I was stunned when he put the blanket on me before he left.

I closed my eyes. My thoughts were loud, but I forced myself to pretend I was fine. But just when my mind started to drift, I heard something.

A loud voice. Then another. Shouting and arguing from the room next door.

I sat up with my heart racing because deep down I knew that voice.

"Tom?" I whispered.

I was reaching for him, but his side of the bed was cold and empty. I stood slowly. Though still weak, I walked toward the sliding door of the balcony.

Then I heard it. It was crystal clear.

"Blair, just stop it. She will wake up."

My stomach dropped, my fears confirmed. It was Tom. Why was he there?

Even though I was still healing and still hurting, I forced myself to step out onto the balcony. My eyes widened. Tom and Blair were just feet away on the balcony. Talking like this was their house.

I stayed hidden behind the frame, just enough to see but not be seen.

Blair crossed her arms and scoffed. "Come on, Tom. Don't tell me you actually love that ugly, fat wife of yours."

I froze on the balcony, a sickly heat radiating in the pit of my stomach. Her words broke me. I shouldn't have been surprised that she felt that way, and maybe that's what truly hurt. I wasn't.

"Love?" Tom scoffed. "She's a goddamn whale. I can't even look at her naked. It's disgusting."

What did I just hear?

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop the sob that ripped up my throat from my husband's cruel words.

Blair spat out, voice shaking with rage, "Then why the hell didn't you just let her die?"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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The ocean drags me under for the third time, saltwater burning my lungs, my arms too heavy to fight. I see them—Tom, Blair, Noah—running up the beach, laughing, not looking back. I scream, but the waves swallow my voice. My vision darkens. This is it. I’m going to die because my husband let me drown.

Then, a hand grabs mine.

I wake up in a hospital bed, machines beeping like a countdown. Tom sits beside me, red-eyed, whispering, 'Thank God you’re okay.' I don’t answer. Because the door opens, and Blair walks in holding Noah’s hand. They’re smiling. Laughing. Like I didn’t almost vanish forever.

That night, weak and trembling, I crawl to the balcony. Through the sliding glass, I see them—Tom and Blair—on the next balcony over.

Blair crosses her arms. 'Come on, Tom. Don’t tell me you actually love that ugly, fat wife of yours.'

A pause. Then Tom’s voice, cold and clear: 'She’s a goddamn whale. I can’t even look at her naked. It’s disgusting.'

Blair leans in. 'Then why the hell didn’t you just let her die?'

My blood turns to ice. They wanted me dead. And I’m still breathing.

I retreat inside, silent. My heart isn’t breaking.

It’s hardening.