5:00 PM - The Langford's Villa.
Poppy Langford stood at the entrance of the living room, frozen. Her fingers clung to the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, it felt like it was moments away from shattering her ribs.
She couldn't breathe. Not properly. Not with the smell of lavender hovering around the living room of her matrimonial home like a thick smoke. It choked and coiled around her throat like a noose.
She had always hated lavender. It reminded her of hospitals and dying things. But she sprayed it in the house anyway. Every morning.
Because Sarah loved it.
And James—her husband—had asked her to.
"She says it calms her nerves," he had told her once, pressing the tiny glass bottle into her hand like it was something precious. "You should make her feel at home, Poppy. She's my sister. She has no one else. It's your duty to take care of her."
So she did.
And now, she didn't know if it was the lavender or the scene before her that made her knees buckle.
Poppy blinked. Once. Twice. Harder. She wiped at her face again and again, like maybe, just maybe, she could scrub away what she was seeing.
There, on the couch, in her living room, sat her husband, James Langford, the man she had loved since she was nineteen, with his mouth passionately pressed to the lips of the woman he had always introduced as his sister.
Sarah.
The same Sarah who had moved in with them since they got married.
The same Sarah she had shared everything with—meals, secrets, laughter.
The same Sarah who had held her hand when she cried about being barren.
Now that same Sarah was curled up in James's lap like it was normal, moaning softly against his mouth. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, and her eyes fluttered shut like she couldn't get enough of him, of their kiss.
Poppy's stomach twisted. The room spun.
No.
No, no, no—
Her throat clenched, and her legs refused to move. Nothing was making sense. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped breathing until her chest burned.
A sob nearly escaped her lips, but she forced it down, clutching the edge of the doorway tighter to the point where tiny crescent marks formed on her palm, just to stop herself from breaking down.
They hadn't even noticed her.
They were too busy.
James's hand slid beneath Sarah's blouse, settling protectively on the gentle swell of her stomach.
Poppy blinked again.
She knew that belly. The rose tattoo by the side was unmistakable.
She'd seen it just an hour ago — at the hospital.
Earlier, she'd gone there herself. She hadn't been feeling like herself lately, and had hoped her nausea, dizziness, and exhaustion may be signs of something miraculous. A pregnancy. After three years of trying, maybe... finally...
But then she saw Sarah there, in her doctor's office, sitting in front of him with a glowing smile on her face.
Her doctor had congratulated her on being pregnant, and on the news, the familiar man who was sitting beside her placed a passionate kiss on her lips — her husband, James.
Right there, in the room. Right in front of her.
Poppy had left quietly, refusing to believe it. She told herself she was seeing things, that those people weren't James and Sarah, that it was all a hallucination. She'd been tired for days, and she was even feverish, so it couldn't be real. She gave excuses.
But because she didn't even believe her excuses, she stuck around and followed them back here.
To this moment.
A soft, broken cry, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, escaped her lips. Her chest tightened so painfully, she clutched it hard.
"I thought you two would take this upstairs," Claudia Langford's playful voice rang inside the room as she descended the stairs. "You're making the living room look indecent."
Poppy froze even harder, if that was even possible.
She turned her head slowly.
Dressed in an elegant cream coat and heels too high for a woman her age, Claudia, James's mother, stood at the foot of the stairs. Her expression was glowing… until her eyes fell on Poppy. Her face hardened.
She had not expected to see the useless, fat girl her son was forced to marry for the last three years, but when she saw Poppy's horrible look from the scene she just witnessed, her face brightened.
"You're home early," she said mockingly and walked further into the room.
Poppy stared at her with a parted mouth, but no words came out. She looked back at James, at Sarah, then again at Claudia, hoping someone would explain. Tell her it was a mistake.
James finally looked at her. His expression wasn't guilt. It wasn't even shock. It was annoyance.
"What are you doing standing there like a creep?" he snapped. "Were you spying on us? What is wrong with you?!"
Sarah adjusted herself on his lap like a queen on her throne. No shame. No panic. Her hand was now on her swollen stomach and she rubbed it in a slow circle, making it obvious to Poppy that she was pregnant.
"Don't be so hard on her, my love..." Sarah stared at Poppy pitifully. "Look at how pale she is. Are you okay, Poppy?"
Poppy didn't answer. She couldn't. Her throat had closed up.
Spying?
My love?
Her lips trembled as they curled into a bitter smile, and her voice finally broke through. "You... H-he's your brother..." She whispered shakily.
Claudia laughed. "Sister? Oh you're dumber than I thought." She wiped the tears that kissed her bottom lids. "For heaven's sake, Sarah is pregnant with my grandchild. Your fat brain is as useless and barren as you are... Like you've been doing in this house for the past three years, it's just taking up space like a furniture!"
Poppy took a step back, and the floor spun beneath her. She turned to James with her eyes wide with confusion. "T-this is a joke, right? H-how can she be pregnant with your child? You told me..." Her voice cracked, and her throat burned from holding back her tears. "...you told me she was your sister."
James sighed heavily like she was a burden, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You now know she's not my sister, so why are you making a big deal out of it?!"
Silence followed, before a loud, broken, hysterical laughter echoed in the room.
Everyone had expected a different reaction from Poppy, but certainly not this.
"Three years...!" Her laughter dissolved into a sob.
Three years of marriage.
Three years of loving him so fiercely, she forgot how to love herself.
Three years of sacrificing her dreams, her career, her body, herself.
And all for what?!
"Stop playing the victim, Poppy!" James said coldly, looking at her with disgust.
"Are you even throwing tantrums right now?!" Claudia snapped, standing to her feet. "You should be grateful he even kept you around at all! With your weight and inability to give him a child, aren't you supposed to be on your knees, thanking Sarah for doing something you couldn't do, you existing barren pig?!"
Poppy's head throbbed and she felt like going crazy. How shameless could these people be?! Her vision blurred again, but this time, not from tears, but rage.
Sarah immediately stood to her feet and moved to Claudia's side. Linking arms with her, "Mother please, don't let Poppy's behavior get you upset. You know this isn't good for your health," she said sweetly.
Then she turned to Poppy with a smile on her face. "Hurry and apologize, Poppy! You've upset Mother. Be decent for once."