CHAPTER 118: DONE WITH YOU

~DANIEL~

I’d been out of town for three days, a last-minute trip to clear my head after another fight with Cassandra.

I just couldn’t take it anymore.

Lately, she’d been colder than usual, snapping at me for no reason and locking herself in her room. She blamed it on grief over the miscarriage. At first, I fell for it all, her tears, her dramatic story about the crash stealing our baby, and her performance in front of the police and lawyers.

But the preliminary hearing was yesterday, and I couldn’t bring myself to go.

Something about her felt wrong, and I needed space to think. So I’d driven upstate, told her it was for work, and ignored her increasingly frantic calls.

The house was eerily quiet when I walked in, a silence that felt less like peace and more like a carefully constructed scene.

Cassandra always had to have everything just so. Too perfect, even. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air.

I dropped my bag, straightened my shirt, and reached into my pocket for the small velvet box. Inside was a bracelet that wasn’t over-the-top, but I knew it was her style: delicate, gold, with tiny sapphire stones.

I hoped it would serve as a peace offering. I had spent hours choosing it, thinking that maybe it could help bridge the gap between us. If I showed her I still cared, maybe she’d be willing to meet me halfway.

Her room was spotless, as always.

I wanted to leave the gift somewhere she’d find it, so I opened the drawer of her bedside table, intending to slip the box inside.

It didn’t open all the way.

I frowned. Cassandra wasn’t the type to jam drawers. Everything about her was under her control.

When I tugged a little harder, I heard a soft click from underneath. My hand brushed against the underside of the drawer and found a small latch hidden almost seamless against the wood.

"What’s this?"

My curiosity got the better of me. I gave it a push, and a false panel shifted loose with a soft creak. Beneath it lay a narrow compartment.

Inside was a white bottle.

I picked it up, my pulse thudding in my ears as I read the label. Mifepristone. My mouth went dry.

My stomach dropped like an elevator with cut cables. "What the hell?"

These were abortion pills. Medical abortion pills. Which meant one thing... which meant the miscarriage wasn’t from the crash at all. She’d terminated the pregnancy herself and blamed it on Layla.

My hands trembled as I rummaged deeper into the drawer. Tucked beneath some tissues, I found a receipt. It was from a pharmacy two towns away, and dated over a week ago.

"Jesus Christ." My voice came out strangled.

She’d faked the whole thing: the pregnancy, the miscarriage, the grief. All of it was a performance, a calculated move to keep me, to play the victim in court, and destroy Layla even further.

I’d left Layla for this. I’d walked away from a woman who loved me, who would have given me a real life, for Cassandra’s schemes and betrayals.

"Cassandra!" I shouted, storming through the house. "Where the hell are you?"

There was no sign of her. So I reached for my phone and dialled her number.

"Where are you?" I asked as soon as the call connected.

"Daniel, nice of you to finally know I exist. Where the hell have you been?"

"I called you, so I’m doing the question, Cass."

"Is everything okay?"

"No, everything is not okay. I found the pills, Cassandra. The abortion pills. You faked it all, didn’t you? The pregnancy, the miscarriage... all of it was a lie!"

What I got from the other end was silence long enough that I thought she might have hung up.

"You don’t understand..." she finally started.

"I understand perfectly!" I cut her off, my voice rising to a shout. "You lied to me. You used me. You destroyed my relationship with Layla, and for what? For your twisted revenge plot?"

"It’s not that simple, Daniel. I did it for us—"

"There is no us! There never was!" I was pacing now, unable to stand still. "I’m done, Cassandra. Completely done. I’m telling Layla everything: the pills, the fake pregnancy, all of it. She deserves to know the truth."

"Daniel, wait... if you tell her, you’ll implicate yourself too. You’re already named as an accomplice in..."

I hung up, cutting her off mid-sentence. My hands were trembling so badly I nearly dropped the phone.

I sat down on the edge of the couch, trying to process everything. How had I been so blind? How had I let Cassandra manipulate me into leaving Layla, into participating in this nightmare?

I thought about Layla, really thought about her for the first time in months. Her kindness, her intelligence, the way she’d loved me despite my flaws. And I’d thrown it all away for what? For Cassandra’s lies and Charles Watson’s approval?

I had to make this right. I had to tell Layla the truth, even if it meant facing consequences myself. Even if it meant admitting I’d been a fool.

I pulled up Layla’s contact information, my finger hovering over her number. What would I even say? "Sorry I left you for your psychotic sister who faked a pregnancy and blamed you for a miscarriage that never happened"?

But I had to try.

I dialled her number, listening to it ring. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it went to voicemail.

"Hey, this is Layla. I can’t take your call right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you."

The beep sounded, and I froze, suddenly unsure what to say.

"Layla, it’s Daniel. I... I need to talk to you. It’s about Cassandra and the case. There’s something you need to know, something important. Please call me back when you get this. It’s urgent."

I hung up, feeling like a coward for not just saying it all in the message.

As I grabbed my keys to leave, I thought maybe I could catch her at her office and talk to her in person. My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

I opened it, and my blood ran cold.

Tell her, and you’re dead.