You’re supposed to live. That’s all that matters. Her arms ached under the weight.
The woman heavy, not just with her body, but with the life inside her. Every step felt like wading through fire, but Leona forced her legs forward. The murmurs around them grew louder, some shocked, some scandalized.
Isn’t that the millionaire’s wife? Someone whispered. And the maid, she’s carrying her, another added. The woman in purple buried her face against Leona’s shoulder, sobbing.
This will ruin me. He’ll never forgive me for being seen this way. Made Leona’s jaw tightened.
If he can’t forgive you for fighting to stay alive, then he’s the one ruined, not you. The woman shook her head weakly. You don’t understand the weight of his name.
The whole city knows him. If they see me like this, Leona shifted her grip, arms trembling but unyielding. I understand the weight in my arms, and it’s heavier than his name.
For a moment, silence pressed between them, broken only by the sound of the woman’s uneven breaths and Leona’s labored gasps. You shouldn’t care this much, the wife whispered. You’re only, only what? Leona shot back, anger breaking through the fatigue.
Only the maid? Only the one who polishes the floors and disappears when guests arrive? You think I don’t notice you crying alone in your room? You think I don’t hear the way he talks to you when he’s angry? The woman’s lips parted, shocked. I’ve cared every single day, Leona continued, her voice shaking now. I’ve cared while pretending not to see, not to hear, not to feel.
And now I’m done pretending. The blonde woman’s tears spilled freely. I didn’t know…
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