Until I Forgot to Love You

Helen's POV

I found Mark's tablet on the kitchen island. He'd left in such a rush this morning, claiming he had an emergency department meeting, that he forgot the one thing he needed to present his lecture.

Being the dutiful wife—the idiot wife—I grabbed his keys and drove to campus. It was only fifteen minutes away.

I didn't expect to hear my own funeral being planned over a latte.

The door to his office was slightly ajar. I raised my hand to knock, breathless from the walk across the quad, when I heard Mark's laugh. It wasn't his stressed, "tenure-track is killing me" laugh. It was light. Boyish.

"Honestly? I'm counting down the days," Mark said.

I froze. My hand hovered over the wood.

"She's suffocating me, Dave," Mark continued. "And she's doing the same to Sophie. It's like living in a prison warden's office."

His colleague, Dave, chuckled. "Still on about the gluten thing?"

"Sophie has Celiac disease," Mark groaned. "It's real. But Helen acts like a crumb of bread is radioactive waste. She checks every wrapper. She calls the school nurse three times a week. It's exhausting. It's unsexy."

My chest tightened. I leaned closer to the doorframe. Unsexy.

"You used to say her attention to detail was what made her a great editor," Dave noted.

"That was ten years ago. Before she quit to be a mom. Now? It's just neurotic control." Mark's voice dropped, turning conspiratorial. "That's why this summer is going to be a lifesaver."

"The research sabbatical?"

"The 'sabbatical,' right," Mark sneered. "I'm taking Jessica."

My stomach dropped. Jessica. His twenty-four-year-old grad student. The one who came over for dinner last Thanksgiving and complimented my pot roast with a smirk that didn't reach her eyes.

"Three months in a villa in Tuscany," Mark said, his voice dripping with excitement. "Just me, Jessica, and the rolling hills. I need to breathe."

"What about Sophie?"

"Oh, she's coming too. She adores Jessica. Jessica lets her eat pizza, lets her stay up late. They're like best friends."

"And Helen won't suspect?"

"I told her it's an exclusive academic retreat for faculty and children only. No spouses allowed due to insurance liability." Mark laughed. "She trusts me. Plus, with the new baby coming, she's too tired to argue. By the time we get back in September, Jessica's grant will be over, and I'll figure out how to leave Helen for good."

I couldn't breathe. The hallway spun.

New baby. I instinctively touched my stomach. I was only twelve weeks along. We hadn't even announced it yet.

He was planning to abandon his pregnant wife to play house in Italy with a girl young enough to be his little sister, using our daughter as a cover.

I didn't knock. I turned around and walked away. My legs felt like lead.

I sat in my car in the faculty parking lot for an hour, staring at the dashboard. The dashboard family photo mocked me—Mark, Sophie, and I at Disney World three years ago. We looked happy. When did I become the prison warden?

I needed to see Sophie. My daughter. She was twelve. Old enough to understand, but young enough to be manipulated. Surely, she didn't know the real plan. Mark could lie to me, but he couldn't have corrupted my girl.

I checked the time. School pickup was in twenty minutes.

I drove to the school like a woman possessed. I didn't check the mirror. I knew what I looked like—messy bun, no makeup, wearing an oversized sweatshirt to hide the tiny bump.

The bell rang. Kids flooded the sidewalk. I spotted Sophie immediately. She was taller than the other girls, laughing with a group of friends.

"Sophie!" I waved, forcing a smile.

She looked up. Her eyes locked on mine. The smile vanished instantly.

She didn't run to me. She whispered something to the girl next to her. The girl looked at me, then back at Sophie, confused.

Sophie walked toward the car, but she didn't open the door. She stopped ten feet away, her body language screaming rejection.

"Sophie, hop in," I said through the open window.

One of her friends, a girl with heavy eyeliner, shouted, "Is that your mom, Soph?"

Sophie stiffened. She looked at her friends, then at me. Her eyes were cold. Colder than Mark's.

"No," Sophie said loud enough for the curb to hear. "That's just our nanny. She's really annoying."