Chapter 2 - THE SECRET I COULDN’T KEEP
Lily stared at me from across her tiny kitchen table.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Outside the apartment window, the elevated train rattled somewhere beyond the neighboring buildings, followed by the distant sound of a horn and someone shouting from the sidewalk below.
New York was still moving.
My world had stopped.
Lily leaned forward.
“What truth?”
I looked down at my hands.
My fingers were locked together so tightly my knuckles had turned pale.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words left my mouth quietly.
But they seemed to fill the entire room.
Lily blinked.
“What?”
“I’m seven weeks pregnant.”
Her eyes widened.
Then her gaze dropped toward my stomach.
“Oh my God.”
I could not tell whether she was happy or horrified.
Maybe both.
She stood so quickly her chair scraped across the floor.
“Does Daniel know?”
That was when the tears came again.
Not the violent kind from the side of the road.
These were quieter.
Heavier.
“No.”
Lily froze.
“You went there tonight to tell him.”
I nodded.
“And instead…”
She stopped.
I wiped my cheeks.
“I saw him with someone.”
Lily’s expression hardened.
“What exactly did you see?”
“A woman.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What was she doing?”
“She kissed him.”
“And Daniel?”
The question hurt more than anything else.
I looked away.
“He didn’t stop her.”
Lily swore under her breath.
She walked to the counter, pressed both palms against it, then turned around.
“Did he see you?”
“No.”
“Did you confront him?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked at her.
She immediately corrected herself.
“Not good. Obviously none of this is good. I just mean… you were emotional. You were alone in that house. And Daniel Mercer is Daniel Mercer.”
I flinched.
Lily noticed.
“I know you love him.”
“You’ve never trusted him.”
“No.”
At least she was honest.
“But I know you do.”
I reached into my purse.
My hand found the folded ultrasound printout the clinic had given me.
It was still inside the white envelope.
I had imagined placing it in Daniel’s hand.
Instead, I set it on Lily’s table.
She slowly opened it.
The image was barely anything to anyone else.
A dark gray space.
A tiny shape.
A beginning.
But when Lily looked at it, her face changed.
“That’s…”
“My baby.”
She sat down.
“Our baby,” she corrected softly. “Because if that idiot ruins this, you’re not doing it alone.”
A laugh escaped me through my tears.
Lily reached across the table and took my hand.
“Do you want this baby?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
That surprised even me.
Fear had followed me from the clinic.
Fear about Daniel.
Fear about his world.
Fear about becoming a mother.
Fear about money, safety, everything.
But the answer itself had never been uncertain.
“Yes,” I repeated. “I do.”
“Then that’s the first thing we know.”
My phone vibrated again.
Daniel.
Lily looked at the screen.
“How many times?”
I checked.
Nine missed calls.
Three messages.
WHERE ARE YOU?
CALL ME.
I KNOW YOU WERE HERE.
My blood turned cold.
Lily read my face.
“What?”
“He knows.”
“That you were there?”
I showed her the screen.
She took the phone.
“That doesn’t mean he knows what you saw.”
Another message arrived.
PLEASE ANSWER ME.
Lily frowned.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the word please in a text from Daniel Mercer.”
Despite everything, my heart twisted.
I hated that.
I hated how easily eighteen months of love fought against five seconds of betrayal.
Lily handed the phone back.
“Are you answering?”
“No.”
“You need to talk to him eventually.”
“I know.”
“But not tonight.”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Tonight you’re sleeping here.”
“I don’t have clothes.”
“You’ve stolen enough of mine over the years.”
“I haven’t stolen anything.”
“You still have my green sweater.”
“That sweater became mine in 2019.”
For half a second, we were sisters again.
Not a pregnant woman hiding from a dangerous man.
Not a terrified family discussing betrayal.
Just us.
Then the intercom buzzed.
Both of us froze.
Lily slowly looked toward the wall.
Nobody spoke.
It buzzed again.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Lily stared at it.
My stomach tightened.
“Don’t answer.”
She answered.
“Hello?”
A male voice spoke.
I couldn’t hear the words.
But I watched Lily’s expression shift.
“Who is this?”
Another pause.
“No. She does not want to speak to him.”
My heart started pounding.
Lily looked at me.
Then at the intercom.
“No, you cannot come upstairs.”
She hung up.
“Who was it?”
“Someone named Marco.”
I closed my eyes.
Marco Bellini.
Daniel’s closest friend.
Or lieutenant.
Or whatever title people in Daniel’s world used when they did not put titles on paper.
“He’s downstairs.”
“Why?”
“To drive you home.”
“I’m not going.”
“I told him that.”
The intercom buzzed again.
Lily walked over and pressed the button.
“What?”
Marco’s voice came through clearly this time.
“Lily, I’m not trying to create a problem.”
“Well, you are remarkably talented at it.”
Despite myself, I almost smiled.
Marco continued.
“Daniel wants to know she’s safe.”
“She’s safe.”
“He needs to hear that from her.”
“No.”
A long silence.
Then Marco asked,
“Is she hurt?”
Lily looked at me.
I shook my head.
“No,” she said.
“Then tell her Daniel will wait.”
My chest tightened.
“For what?” Lily demanded.
“For her to call.”
The line went dead.
Lily stared at the intercom.
“That was annoyingly reasonable.”
I walked toward the window and looked down.
A black SUV sat at the curb.
Marco stood beside it.
Hands in his coat pockets.
He looked up toward the building.
I stepped away from the glass instinctively.
Lily saw.
“You think Daniel sent someone because he’s angry?”
“No.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
I tried to answer.
Nothing came.
Because that was the real problem.
Daniel had never hurt me.
Never threatened me.
Never raised his voice at me.
But I had spent eighteen months carefully not looking too closely at the world surrounding him.
I knew men lowered their voices when he entered rooms.
I knew politicians returned his calls.
I knew businesses that resisted him sometimes changed ownership.
I knew he had scars he never explained.
I knew Marco occasionally arrived at his house after midnight with blood on his cuff and called it “a business disagreement.”
I had told myself Daniel’s darkness did not belong to me.
Now I was carrying his child.
Suddenly, every shadow mattered.
“I don’t know who he really is,” I whispered.
Lily came closer.
“You know part of him.”
“Maybe that’s worse.”
My phone rang again.
This time, I answered.
Lily’s eyes widened.
I held up one hand.
Daniel did not speak immediately.
Neither did I.
Finally:
“Where are you?”
His voice was low.
Controlled.
“Safe.”
A breath escaped him.
“Were you at my house tonight?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“Why did you leave?”
I closed my eyes.
I could hear the study door in my memory.
The woman’s laugh.
Her red dress.
Her hand against his chest.
The kiss.
“You know why.”
Another silence.
Then Daniel said,
“No.”
My eyes opened.
“I don’t.”
“Don’t insult me.”
“I’m not.”
“Who is she?”
Everything on the line changed.
Daniel became very still.
Even without seeing him, I felt it.
“Who?”
“The woman in your study.”
No answer.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“Right.”
“Listen to me.”
“I did enough listening.”
“What did you see?”
I nearly hung up.
Then anger took over.
“I saw her put her hand on your chest.”
Daniel said nothing.
“I saw her kiss you.”
His breath changed.
“And I saw you let her.”
“That is not what happened.”
“I was standing twenty feet away.”
“You saw three seconds.”
“Three seconds was enough.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
My hand shook.
“Then explain.”
Silence.
Five seconds.
Ten.
There it was.
The same wall Daniel always raised when his world came too close to mine.
“I can’t explain this over the phone.”
I laughed.
“You mean you won’t.”
“Not over the phone.”
“Then we have nothing else to say.”
“We have a lot to say.”
“Not tonight.”
“Come back.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“Please.”
That almost broke me.
Almost.
I looked at the ultrasound envelope on Lily’s table.
“No.”
“Then let me come to you.”
“No.”
“Tell me where you are.”
“You already know.”
He went silent.
I looked toward the window.
“Your SUV is downstairs.”
Daniel exhaled.
“I told Marco to make sure you got home safely.”
“I’m not going home.”
“Where are you going?”
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“You don’t get to ask me that tonight.”
For the first time, I heard something close to panic in his voice.
“Don’t disappear.”
I stopped breathing.
It was not a command.
It sounded like fear.
But I remembered the red dress.
The kiss.
“I’m tired.”
“Wait.”
I almost ended the call.
Then Daniel said something I did not expect.
“Whatever you think happened, I have never been with another woman since the day you became mine.”
My throat tightened.
“Then why did she kiss you?”
Daniel’s answer came instantly.
“Because she wanted someone watching to believe I had.”
I went completely still.
“What?”
“I need you to trust me for one more night.”
“No.”
The word hurt.
But it was true.
“I trusted you when you told me not to ask questions.”
“I know.”
“I trusted you when you disappeared for two days and came back with stitches.”
“I know.”
“I trusted you every time you said some part of your life was safer if I didn’t understand it.”
His voice dropped.
“I know.”
“And now you’re asking for trust again without truth.”
Daniel said nothing.
“That’s not love,” I whispered.
The silence on the other end lasted so long I wondered if the call had disconnected.
Then:
“You’re right.”
I closed my eyes.
“I should have told you more.”
“Yes.”
“I thought not knowing kept you outside it.”
“Outside what?”
He hesitated.
And once again, the wall returned.
I shook my head.
“Good night, Daniel.”
“Wait.”
But I ended the call.
For a long moment, I stood there staring at the phone.
Then Lily said,
“You didn’t tell him.”
“No.”
“About the baby.”
“No.”
“When will you?”
“I don’t know.”
But that answer lasted only twelve hours.
At 10:08 the next morning, someone knocked on Lily’s door.
Not Marco.
Not Daniel.
A courier.
He handed Lily a plain envelope addressed to me.
No return name.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel.
The woman in red.
Leaving a Manhattan hotel together three months earlier.
My breath stopped.
On the back, a message had been written in black ink.
ASK DANIEL WHO SOFIA VASQUEZ REALLY IS.
May you like
Beneath that was a second sentence.
AND ASK HIM WHY WOMEN WHO LOVE HIM ALWAYS END UP DEAD.
