Cash for Tears

I was shopping for a crib when Xavier Davis came home with a three-year-old boy. One look at the child was enough to make me pause. He had the exact same eyes as Xavier's first love. "She just moved back and isn't in a position to take care of him," Xavier told me. "He'll be living with us from now on." There was no room for discussion in his tone. The decision had already been made. Then his gaze dropped to the slight curve of my stomach. "As for yours… Terminate the pregnancy. He's sensitive. A new baby would be too much for him right now." My fingers tightened around the ultrasound printout in my hand. For a long moment, I said nothing. Then I gave him the answer he expected from me. "Okay. Whatever you want." … The next afternoon, I walked out of the clinic alone and returned with the abortion paperwork. I placed it in front of Xavier. He glanced at it once before tossing it casually onto the table. "The penthouse at Astoria Heights will be transferred into your name tomorrow." I nodded. "Thank you." His eyes lingered on me, as though he were waiting for me to cry, accuse him, or finally lose control. I did none of those things. The faint crease between his brows told me that was not the reaction he had expected. What Xavier did not know was that the procedure had been fake. The penthouse, however, was very real. There was one golden rule every woman in a marriage like mine learned sooner or later. Make the tears convincing. Never let the feelings become real. And whenever a man felt guilty, make sure he paid for it. Chapter 1 Guilt Has a Price The night I handed Xavier the abortion paperwork, I packed a few clothes and prepared to move into the guest room. The little boy had already settled into the bedroom next to ours, where the nanny was busy making his bed. I was carrying my pillow down the hallway when I noticed Xavier leaning against the wall, an unlit cigarette resting between his fingers. "Bailey," he called out, "why haven't you asked me who his mother is?" I stopped. The truth was, I already knew. Eloise Scott was Xavier's first love. She left the country three years ago to study abroad. On the day she left, Xavier had stood at the airport for four hours, and that night, he came home so drunk he could barely stay on his feet. Of course, I mentioned none of that. I simply gave him a small smile. "What difference would it make if I asked?" Xavier's expression stiffened. He had probably been expecting questions, accusations, maybe even screaming and broken dishes. What he clearly had not expected was for me to remain calm. His hand suddenly closed around my wrist, his grip tightening. "You're not angry?" I met his gaze. "If I were angry, would you send him away?" Xavier's jaw tightened, but no answer came. That was an answer enough. I gently pulled my wrist from his grasp. "Then, there's nothing for me to ask. Get some rest." I had only taken a few steps when his voice stopped me again. "I told the lawyer to rush the paperwork for Astoria Heights. Everything should be ready for you to sign tomorrow." I kept walking. "Thank you." … The following morning, the lawyer, Adam Quinn, arrived with the documents. As I went through them, I realized the penthouse at Astoria Heights was not the only thing Xavier had transferred to me. There was also a car and a bank account containing five million. Adam adjusted his glasses and said, "Mr. Davis added those last night." I showed no reaction as I picked up the pen and signed every document. … By the time I finished, Xavier had come downstairs. The little boy stood beside him, holding his hand and hiding half his body behind Xavier as he watched me timidly. Xavier studied me for a moment before speaking, his tone strangely awkward. "You're still recovering. Stay and have lunch with us." I looked up at him. In two years of marriage, Xavier had never gone out of his way to ask me to eat with him. He rarely told me when he was leaving on a business trip. He never called before coming home. Most days, we did not even share a meal. A bitter feeling tightened in my chest. I buried it before it could reach my face, allowing only a trace of hesitation to show. "No, thank you, Mr. Davis. I have a follow-up appointment at the hospital this afternoon." The words "follow-up appointment" made something flicker in his eyes. He was probably thinking about the abortion. His lips parted as though he wanted to ask something, but after a brief pause, he only replied, "I'll have the driver take you." "That won't be necessary." I lowered my gaze. "I can take a cab." Xavier's expression immediately darkened. He was not used to hearing me refuse him. Before this, no matter how cold or distant he had been, I was always the one smiling, accommodating him, and closing whatever distance he created between us. "Bailey." His voice dropped. "I told you the driver would take you." I did not argue again. Knowing when to stop pushing was one of the first things a woman in my position learned. … On the way to the hospital, a message from Xavier appeared on my phone. 'Tell me what the doctor says.' I stared at it for a moment. We had been married for two years, and this was the first time he had ever shown any interest in one of my hospital visits. Too bad his concern had come from guilt. I replied with a single word, 'Okay.' When I arrived at the hospital, I did not go anywhere near the follow-up clinic. I went straight to obstetrics. The ultrasound showed that my baby was healthy at four months, and everything was developing normally. I carefully folded the report and slipped it into the deepest compartment of my bag. Then I took a photo of the hospital lobby and sent it to Xavier. 'Everything's fine.' His reply came almost immediately. 'Good. Get some rest.' I switched off my phone and gently rested one hand over the slight curve of my stomach. "Mommy will protect you," I whispered. "Mommy is still taking your father's money, though." Chapter 2 The One Thing Xavier Feared Everyone who knew Xavier knew there was one thing he hated more than anything else. It was not betrayal or deception. It was abandonment. When Xavier's mom became pregnant with him, his dad, Nathan Davis, was already engaged to another woman. She rented a tiny room in one of the city's poorest neighborhoods and raised Xavier alone. Money was so tight that when she could not afford formula, she fed him watered-down rice cereal just to keep him from going hungry. When Xavier was five, she brought him to the gates of the Davis Residence and told him to wait there while she went to buy him something good to eat. So, he waited. He stayed there for seven hours, long after the sun had gone down, until security finally called the police and Nathan eventually came outside. His mom never returned. She had taken 300,000 from Nathan, moved to another city, married someone else, and started a new family with a daughter of her own. She had built a new life for herself and left her first child at someone else's front gate. Nathan considered Xavier an embarrassment and wanted nothing to do with him. Xavier was only allowed to stay because his grandpa insisted that no matter how he had come into the world, he was still a Davis by blood. His stepmom never hit him or raised her voice at him. Instead, she treated him as though he did not exist. Whenever she handed out gifts, Xavier was skipped. When the family took portraits, he was sent upstairs to study. At family gatherings, everyone had a place except him. When Xavier was fourteen, one of his classmates mocked him. "Even your own mom didn't want you." Xavier broke the boy's nose. Nathan came to the school to deal with the incident. However, instead of defending his son, he looked at him in front of the principal with cold disappointment. "The boy takes after his mother. No class at all." Xavier did not argue. From that day on, he poured nearly every waking hour into studying, working, and making money. At eighteen, he left the country on a full scholarship. Three years later, he returned. Within days, he had acquired sixty percent of Nathan's company. Nathan called him personally and begged him to stop. Xavier gave him only one answer. "You paid 300,000 to get rid of me. I'll return the money. Now, we're even." Everyone called Xavier ruthless. I never thought that was quite right. He was not ruthless. He was afraid of becoming that five-year-old boy again, standing outside a locked gate for hours and waiting for someone who had already decided never to come back. That was why Xavier kept everyone at a distance, including me. Eloise had been the only exception. She was the only person who had entered his life willingly, walked away just as easily, and somehow still left him waiting for her three years later. Now, she was back. She had even brought his child with her. … That afternoon, I stood in the kitchen doorway and watched Xavier hold Kai in his arms. The tenderness in his expression made him look like a completely different man. "Kai, I'll never let anyone leave you behind again." The little boy nodded and wrapped his arms tightly around Xavier's neck. I stood there quietly, listening. 'What about me? What about the baby inside me? What about the child you have already sentenced to death before it even had the chance to be born?' I did not ask, though. There was no point. I returned to the guest room, drew the curtains, and sat alone in the dim light for a while before taking out my phone and messaging Sue Bradshaw. 'Can you have someone appraise the Astoria Heights penthouse for me?' Her reply came almost immediately. 'Why? Thinking of selling already?' I replied, 'Just get me a number. I'm not in a rush.' A voice message arrived a few seconds later. "Play it cool." I set my phone aside and rested a hand over my stomach. I was already four months along, which meant it would not be long before the pregnancy was no longer hidden. Before then, I needed to make sure I had secured everything I was entitled to. … That night, Xavier did something unusual. He knocked on my door. When I opened it, he stood outside holding a black credit card. "For household expenses." He held it out to me. "The PIN is your birthday." I took the card from him. "Thank you, Mr. Davis." His brows pulled together slightly. "Call me Xavier." I hesitated before answering, "Xavier." Something in his expression softened. A moment later, he turned and walked away. I closed the door and looked down at the black card in my hand. For some reason, I almost laughed. We had been married for two years, and for all that time, the PIN on the card Xavier gave me for household expenses had been Eloise's birthday. Now, at last, he had changed it to mine. Not because I suddenly mattered more. Not because he had finally started caring about me as his wife. Eloise was back now, and apparently, her birthday needed to be saved for someone else's card. Chapter 3 Know When to Leave I was sitting alone outside the obstetrics clinic when Sue called. "I had someone take a look at the Astoria Heights penthouse. Top floor, private terrace. You could probably get around 55 million for it, depending on negotiations." "Okay." Sue fell silent for a couple of seconds before asking, "Bailey, did you actually terminate the pregnancy?" "No." "Does Xavier know?" "No." The click of a lighter came through the phone, followed by a long breath. "You've got guts." I said nothing. "So, what's the plan?" she continued. "You can't hide it forever." "Only until I get everything I need." "And after that?" "I'll take my baby and leave. I'm leaving for good." Sue let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Fine. I'll keep an eye on the property for you. Just be careful. Don't let him find out." After the call ended, I stared at my phone for a while. Sue was one of the clearest-eyed women I had ever met. The first time I saw her, she was wearing a borrowed dress and a pair of worn-out heels that had rubbed the backs of her feet raw. She spent the entire cocktail party carrying a glass of champagne from table to table, smiling politely at people who barely bothered to hide their contempt. Everyone treated her like a joke. The wealthy wives whispered vicious things behind her back, while the rich young men called her "Sue" to her face and far uglier names once she walked away. She heard them. She always did. She simply smiled and kept moving. Back then, I was still young enough to believe the world rewarded people for doing the right thing. One evening, I finally asked her, "Don't you ever get tired of living like this?" Sue was applying lipstick in front of a mirror. She did not even turn around. "You think this is what I wanted? When I was sixteen, my mom went into kidney failure. My dad disappeared, so I worked three jobs. Everything I earned barely covered a fraction of her dialysis. "Then, one day, a man offered me 2,000 dollars just to have dinner with him. So I went. Two thousand became five. Five became ten. Eventually, 10,000 dollars became an apartment." She capped the lipstick and set it aside before finally turning to me, her gaze calm and clear. "Bailey, staying alive is hard enough. Pride doesn't put food on the table." I had not understood her back then. I thought my situation was different. I had married Xavier. There was a marriage certificate bearing both our names, and I had legal standing beside him as his wife. Surely, that had to mean something. Eventually, I learned that a legal title was still only a piece of paper, and paper could be torn up the moment someone decided it was no longer useful. My baby had not even been born yet, and Xavier had already brought another woman's child into our home. That was when I finally understood what Sue had been trying to tell me. Playing by the rules did not guarantee the world would treat you fairly. My prenatal appointment went smoothly, and the doctor confirmed that the baby was perfectly healthy. … When I returned home, the housekeeper stopped me near the entrance with an uneasy expression. "Mrs. Davis, Mr. Davis asked me to let you know we'll have guests for dinner tonight. The kitchen is preparing for ten people." "What guests?" She hesitated before lowering her voice. "Ms. Scott." My grip tightened around my car keys. "Just her?" "I believe she's bringing a few friends." I nodded as though it meant nothing, then went to the kitchen and helped with the dinner preparations. … At seven that evening, Eloise arrived. She was thinner than I remembered from three years ago. An ivory cashmere dress fell neatly around her frame, and her hair rested loosely over her shoulders. She wore almost no makeup. Somehow, the lack of effort only made her beauty harder to ignore. Xavier went to the door himself to greet her. I stood near the dining room with a fruit platter in my hands when Eloise noticed me. She paused for the briefest moment before smiling. "Bailey. It's good to see you." Her tone was warm, almost as though we were old friends. Something shifted in Xavier's expression, so faintly that I might have imagined it. He said nothing. … At dinner, Eloise sat on Xavier's right, with Kai beside her. Looking at the three of them together made something tighten painfully inside my chest. They looked natural, just like a family. I sat at the opposite end of the long table and barely touched the food on my plate. One of Eloise's friends eventually noticed. "Bailey, aren't you eating?" I said, "My stomach's a little upset." Xavier did not even look up. After dinner, Eloise crouched in front of Kai and pulled him into her arms. She kissed his forehead, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her neck, murmuring, "Mommy." I turned away before anyone could see my expression and walked straight into the kitchen. Then, I turned on the faucet. Water crashed loudly into the sink, drowning out the voices behind me. I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth and bit down hard. Still, a small, broken sound escaped my throat. Chapter 4 The Life I Hid From Him After Eloise came over for dinner, things between Xavier and me began to feel increasingly wrong. He started leaving work two hours early every afternoon, though it was never to come home. Instead, he picked up Eloise and Kai and took them out together. Before long, photos of the three of them began appearing on social media. There were pictures from amusement parks, aquariums, and family restaurants, and Xavier was smiling in every single one. I had never seen him look that way before—relaxed, gentle, genuinely happy. … On the fifth day, Xavier came home with a document and tossed it onto the coffee table. "Take a look and sign it." I picked it up. It was a divorce agreement. The settlement was laid out clearly. The Astoria Heights penthouse would belong to me, along with another 20 million paid in quarterly installments. Everything was clean and efficient, almost like closing a business deal. I carefully read through every page. There was not a single clause mentioning a child. Of course there was not. As far as Xavier knew, our baby no longer existed. I picked up the pen and signed my name. Xavier stood by the window with his back to me, his shoulders unusually tense. He never turned around, though I could tell he was waiting for some kind of reaction. Maybe he expected me to cry, demand an explanation, or finally lose control. I gave him none of that. After signing the last page, I placed the agreement back on the coffee table and stood. "Mr. Davis, when would you like me to move out?" Xavier finally turned around. His brows drew together slightly, as though my calm response was not what he had expected. "There's no rush." I nodded and headed toward the guest room. I had only taken a few steps when he called my name, "Bailey." I stopped. Several seconds passed before he spoke again, his voice quieter and slightly hoarse. "How are you feeling?" I lowered my gaze. "I'm fine." "That's good." The relief in his voice was impossible to miss. I returned to the guest room and closed the door behind me. Leaning against it, I rested one hand over my stomach. I was already four months along. Loose clothing and carefully placed blankets had hidden my pregnancy well enough that Xavier still had not noticed. Then again, he had never really looked. … The next day, we went to the courthouse to finalize our divorce. Eloise was not there, though Xavier's phone lit up three times while we waited. Every message came from her, and he replied almost immediately, his expression softening each time he looked at the screen. Once everything was finalized and we stepped outside, Xavier called after me. "My car is at the east entrance. I'll take you home." I shook my head. "No, thank you." "Bailey—" "Mr. Davis." I turned to face him, keeping my voice as steady as I could. "We're divorced now." Xavier froze for a brief moment, as though the words had finally made everything real. I turned and walked away. When I reached the intersection, I glanced back once. Xavier was still standing outside the building exactly where I had left him. I had no idea what he was thinking. For once, I no longer wanted to know. Instead of going home, I drove straight to the hospital for my detailed anatomy scan. … Inside the examination room, the doctor slowly moved the ultrasound probe across my stomach until a tiny curled-up figure appeared on the monitor. "Everything looks great." She studied the screen for another moment before smiling. "You're having a girl." I stared at the image of my daughter, and tears blurred my vision before I could stop them. … After leaving the hospital, I called Sue. "Put the Astoria Heights penthouse on the market." "You've decided?" "Yeah. Sell it as soon as possible. I'm leaving." "Where are you going?" I paused before answering, "Larton." There was a brief silence on the other end before Sue asked, "Why Larton?" "I got into graduate school at Elmbark University. My acceptance letter came last week." I had spent the last two years preparing for the entrance exams without telling anyone. To everyone around Xavier, I was simply his quiet wife who stayed home and kept out of the way. I did not work, rarely socialized, and spent most of my time quietly in the background. I was like a piece of furniture. No one ever stopped to wonder what the furniture might be doing when nobody was looking. Sue laughed, and this time, there was genuine amusement in it. "Bailey, you are the most patient woman I have ever met." I started the car and drove toward the house that would soon have nothing to do with me. There was only one thing left to do: pack the rest of my belongings and leave. Soon, I would be somewhere Xavier no longer had any place in my life, but when I pulled into the driveway, a familiar black Maybach was already parked outside. It was his car. My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag as I walked inside. The entryway lights were on, and Xavier sat alone on the living room sofa with a neat row of papers spread across the coffee table. The moment I recognized them, my blood ran cold. They were my ultrasound reports, every single one from eight weeks to sixteen weeks, along with my graduate school acceptance letter. All the documents I had carefully hidden behind the false panel in the guest room closet were now laid out in front of him. Xavier slowly raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and beneath the anger in his expression was something raw and deeply wounded. He looked like an animal backed into a corner, furious and barely holding itself together. When he finally spoke, his voice was so hoarse I almost did not recognize it. "Bailey, tell me what the hell this is."