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My knees give out, and I collapse into the mud. My fingers claw at the wet soil, desperation crawling up my spine. Not here. Not here. The unbearable pressure makes me want to scream. I force myself up, my muscles trembling as I straighten. I have to keep moving.

But I’m so tired.

A sharp snap echoes behind me.

I freeze.

My heart slams against my ribs, blood rushing in my ears. The storm swallows everything—thunder roaring, rain hammering the earth. My breath is shallow, my limbs are locked in place.

Someone is here.

Lightning flashes, illuminating the woods for a single second.

"NO." I shout when I see him. The shock makes my knees tremble, but I don’t fall. Instinct screams at me to run, and I do.

But then I feel it as I hear it—crack.

Pain explodes at the back of my skull. My vision fractures, black spots swallowing the world. I sway, barely standing, as my hand weakly lifts to the back of my head. My fingers come away warm and wet.

Did I piss myself?

Or did my water break?

The sky flashes again, lighting up the forest one last time. I try to see the face of the person who stole everything from me. But I don’t need to.

I already know.

And they will never escape me.

1

LOVE LIES

Iopen the medicine cabinet, my eyes fixed on that yellow medicine bottle. Dreading taking the pill that should help with the thoughts. My mother tells me I shouldn't feel like this—that I'm blessed, that I am ungrateful. Rey is perfect, handsome, and successful. And I’m a beautiful, young, pregnant wife. But no one talks about how drastic your life changes, how your body changes as the days progress, how you're the only one making the sacrifices. While Rey is out there succeeding, I’m here, trapped. My hand trembles as I try to rest it on my round stomach, but it doesn’t connect. The "aww" moment. The joy of motherhood. And for that, I believe I’m broken. But I don’t let anyone know. As far as everyone thinks, I’m happy to be carrying this baby—extremely happy—but my nerves and overall temperament scream otherwise.

Closing the cabinet, I stare at myself in the mirror. My skin has broken out due to the hormones, and there are bags under my eyes from the sleepless nights. Sleeping while carrying a giant ball in your belly is impossible. Pregnancy has taken everything out of me, and I’m not sure if I’m cut out for this. I mean, it wasn’t like I intended to be pregnant, but I was the 1%of birth control failures. Who would’ve known that antibiotics could mess everything up? I was at the height of my career as Miss Puerto Clara, almost making it to Ms. Worldwide. Rey and I had just gotten back from our honeymoon—sex was amazing, and I was thriving. Then it all changed. Two lines on a plastic stick confirmed my sickness wasn’t food poisoning after all. But the look of happiness on his face made my emotions relax.

"There’s plenty of successful mothers out there, and I’m sure you’ll be one of them," he repeated over and over every time I voiced my concerns.

The sickness became unbearable. I was fainting and barely able to do anything but sleep and puke. After countless doctor’s appointments and ER visits, I was finally given an answer. Instead of the usual diagnosis anxiety and normal pregnancy symptoms. I was tired of hearing it’s normal, it will go away. Because that’s the other issue with being a woman seeking medical help is nearly impossible to get straight answers. But learning that I have hyperemesis gravidarum changed my life. Who would’ve known being so sick all the time makes it hard to maintain a successful career or a healthy mindset?

"Empty," the words whisper in my head. "No good."

They continue their chant as I comb my fingers through my soft, shoulder-length waves. Practicing my smile—it’s almost time for Rey to come home, and work was stressful enough. I needed to be his safe space, his home.

I’ve been watching Facetube videos on how to be the best wife I can for him. After all, I love him. I want him to be proud. He’s forty and so happy about the baby and the idea of me being barefoot and pregnant. I need to be happy.

The sound of my front door opening pulls me out of my trance, and a smile spreads slowly across my face. I push my chestnut waves behind my ear, just like he likes it. Makes me look innocent, like something for him to ruin.

"Mi Reina," he chimes from downstairs. Given the closeness of his voice, I know he’s waiting for me by the stairs. Rey is slightly older than me and used to be my professor. Call it daddy issues, but the day he ordered me to get on my knees, I was his. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I just wish it would’ve been us alone for a moment longer. But I try to fulfill my duties to make my husband happy. That’s what makes me a good wife—putting my family’s needs above mine.

"Amor," I squeal as I walk down the hall. "How was work?" Standing beside the step, he looks up at me and I see nothing but adoration and need. His salt-and-pepper hair laid messily as he removed his blue tie—the one I picked out for his board meeting. Rey is now the director of Puerto Clara University, and that's where we met. I was in his psychology class, and one thing led to another.

"Stressful with all the new policies, but this weekend we get to move to our dream home."

"Ahh, yes. Big white Victorian house with fields, and in the middle of nowhere where you can chase me and fuck me," I say, as I walk down the stairs, letting my pink silk nightgown ride up my thighs. Giving him what he needs to decompress and what I need to still feel like myself, because sex is where we are equal. His need matches my own.

"You look beautiful as always," my husband whispers as he begins to unbutton his shirt. "How was your day?"