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"God, if I could be Mitchell’s son-in-law, I wouldn't need any mistress!"
He shot a pointed glance at James. "Unlike some... letting the side piece and her kid attack his actual wife."
Laughter, quickly stifled, rippled through the room.
James's face flamed crimson, then drained to ash. He ignored the whispers, moving to follow me, but Melissa seized his arm, fingers digging in with desperate fury.
I didn't glance back. The smooth purr of the engine was my only companion as Tom, aide of my father, navigated through the city. The antiseptic smell of the hospital was a stark counterpoint to the emotional chaos left behind at the school.
The tests were swift, clinical. The doctor confirmed it gently, the words landing with dull finality: pregnant, and then, not. Miscarriage. Due to physical trauma.
Strange. I only felt hollow. A flicker of what might have been sadness, quickly smothered by a surge of cold clarity.
This ordeal, this pain, had ripped the veil clean off James's carefully constructed life. It had exposed the rot beneath. Fair trade? Perhaps. A brutal but definitive accounting.
"My father?" I asked Tom.
"Still at the DC policy summit, Ms. Mitchell," he replied, voice low and efficient. "He's been fully briefed. Legal and investigative teams are already mobilized. His only instruction was: 'It's Sarah's decision. '"
"Good. Draw up the divorce papers, Tom. Air-tight. Thank you." The decision felt like the first solid ground I'd touched in hours.
Night had long fallen when the shouting started down the hall.
James -- hoarse, desperate, demanding to see me, disturbing other patients. Weariness won over defiance. I let him in.
James burst in, looking haggard, the smell of cheap whiskey faint on his breath.
"Sarah! God, please... it's all a horrible misunderstanding!" He stumbled towards the bed. "Melissa... she's nothing! Just a former student, down on her luck, I... I felt sorry for her! Took her kid in as a goddaughter, that's all!"
His eyes were bloodshot, pleading. "Please... Don't divorce me. We can fix this!"
I remained silent, the cold stare enough to make him falter.
"I'll make them go!" he blurted, clutching at straws. "Out of state! Far away! You'll never have to see them again!"
His excuses were pathetic. A dry, humorless laugh escaped me.
"James," my voice was dangerously calm. "If Chloe's not yours... why does she carry your name?"
He flinched as if struck. "When... when she was born," he stammered, voice dropping, "it was an emergency. Messy situation, no father listed... the hospital wouldn't issue the birth certificate without one. I... I signed it. A stupid, momentary mistake! I regret it every damn day, Sarah! Please!" He looked like he might kneel.
I masked my revulsion, turning my face slightly towards the window, hiding the disdain tightening my lips.
James wouldn't let go easily. Not with that promotion hanging in the balance – a divorce scandal would sink it; not with my powerful father nearing retirement, his political network still the ladder James desperately clung to.
Exposing the affair publicly was tempting, but messy; it could tarnish Dad's name on his way out. Unacceptable.
Mentally, I discarded every blunt option. To get him gone cleanly, leaving nothing behind... I needed precision.
I let my shoulders slump, a tremor entering my voice I willed into existence. A single, perfect tear escaped, tracing a cold path down my cheek.
"I can overlook being labeled the mistress, James. But Chloe... she killed our baby." My voice hitched, the tremor becoming a near-sob. "She made me lose your child. And for that... she will pay for it!"
James froze, lowering his head. His frantic energy vanished. When he raised his head again, his eyes were shuttered, unreadable pools in the dim hospital light.
I filed a police report against Chloe for assault.
The police assessed my injuries as moderate.
My lawyer said since Chloe was a minor,her punishment would be light.
Sending her to jail wasn't my goal; that would be too lenient a consequence.
The lawyer cautioned that Melissa and Chloe might beg for a leniency letter to lighten her sentence.
Just as predicted,a few weeks later,post-discharge,Melissa brought Chloe to my door.
“Chloe’s just a kid.How could you report her?”
Whatever James said,Chloe still saw me as the mistress.
“Mom,don’t beg!She’s the bastard,not me.She shouldn’t even exist.”
“Sarah,if you want to take out your anger, fine, but don't ruin my daughter's future because of a miscarriage!”
Their act of playing the victim made me sick to my stomach.
I tossed my marriage certificate at them.
Chloe shrugged.“What,did you forge this license to prove you're not a mistress?”
“Take it to city hall and check.”
Seeing my confidence,Chloe wavered.“Mom,is this real?”
Melissa didn’t look.“Of course it’s real!”
Chloe froze,confused.
“A license means nothing.I never got one with your dad!”
