The Seven-Day Lie That Killed Us

On the day of our daughter's three-month party, Damian's first love—and his late brother’s widow—Tiffany, showed up at our doorstep. After his older brother, Logan, died in a tragic car accident, Tiffany was diagnosed with severe PTSD. She started mistaking Damian for her late husband and boldly moved into our home. I fought it with everything I had. But Damian just pulled me into a guilty embrace. "Please, just bear with it. My family owes her. The hospital will have a specialized treatment ready in a week. I’ll personally drive her there myself." I believed him. I counted down the days, suffering in silence. Yet Tiffany only crossed more lines. She clung to Damian every waking moment and even slipped into his bed when he came home drunk. On the seventh day, Tiffany suddenly had a violent breakdown. She grabbed our daughter and dragged her to the balcony, threatening to jump. "Why should a mistress's bastard get to live? I'm going to make sure you never steal my man again!" Damian fought like a madman to snatch our baby back, shoving her into my arms before rushing Tiffany to the hospital. "She had an episode, Clara. Don't take it out on her! I'm taking her to the hospital right now!" After he left, I looked down at my baby girl's gray, lifeless face and sprinted to the hospital like a woman possessed. There, outside the clinic room, I overheard the doctor talking to Damian. "You knew all along that Miss Vance doesn't have PTSD. Why did you lie to your wife?" Damian's voice was chillingly calm. "I promised Tiffany I’d take care of her for the rest of my life. She became a widow because of me. It's only natural she needs an outlet for her pain. Clara has always been gentle and kind. She’ll understand eventually." My heart turned to ash. I looked down at my daughter, who had already stopped breathing in my arms. Damian, there is no "eventually" for us anymore. "Damian, look at me. Who am I? Am I the only woman you love?" Tiffany draped herself over Damian, tracing slow circles on his chest with her pale fingers. His eyes fluttered half-shut, and as if spellbound, he leaned in and kissed her on the lips. "...Tiffany. You’re my Tiffany..." My mind went completely blank. Weak from a high fever, my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor. Damian immediately shoved her off and rushed to my side. "Don't touch me!" The stench of alcohol and women’s perfume radiating off him made me violently nauseous. "Clara, let me explain! I was drunk. I thought she was you!" "Tiffany isn't well, and she probably thought I was Logan. Please don't jump to conclusions. You’re still nursing, you can't get this worked up." So he remembered I was nursing. He knew I shouldn't get upset. Yet just seconds ago, both of them had clearly breathed each other's names. In that moment, they meant every single word. I stared at him, cold and detached. "Get her out. I don't want to see her in this house ever again." The man who once catered to my every whim suddenly hardened his expression. "Be reasonable, Clara. She's sick, and she has no family left in this country. We can't just throw her out onto the street." Noticing the feverish flush on my face, Damian's expression softened, and he reached out to help me up. Behind him, Tiffany suddenly dropped to the floor, clutching her head and thrashing in agony. "My head hurts so bad! Honey, where are you? It hurts!" "Take care of yourself. I need to get Tiffany to the ER first." Damian hesitated for barely a second before turning on his heel and walking away. I sat frozen on the floor, watching the man who had sworn to protect me for the rest of my life sweep Tiffany into his arms. As she passed me, Tiffany curled her lips into a cruel, silent smirk. *I won.*After they left, the housekeeper hurried over and helped me up, her eyes full of pity. "Ma'am, you're burning up. You really need to see a doctor." I let out a bitter, self-deprecating chuckle. "Lily is crying. She must be having trouble falling asleep. Just bring me two fever pills. I need to take care of her." I swallowed the medicine, gathered whatever strength I had left, and went upstairs to pick up Lily. It wasn't until late into the night that my baby girl finally fell asleep in my arms. The moment I laid her down in her crib, I clamped a hand over my mouth, sobbing uncontrollably. My C-section scar throbbed with a searing pain, but the ache tore straight into my chest, ripping my heart to shreds. I had labored for an entire day and night before an emergency C-section, emerging from the delivery room ghostly pale and completely drained. Back then, Damian—a man who never showed vulnerability—had broken down in tears in front of everyone, swearing on his life that he would protect our daughter and me forever. It had only been three months. Now, his eyes held nothing but Tiffany. There was no longer any room for us. Suddenly, a warm pair of arms wrapped around my shivering back. Damian pulled me against his chest, smelling cleanly of fresh soap. "Silly girl. Why didn't you tell me you had a fever? How could you take care of the baby when you're so sick? Do you have any idea how worried I was?" Worried? If he was so worried, why did he leave me behind? Why did he kiss Tiffany? My chest felt heavy, drowned in bitterness. I looked up into his handsome face. "Damian, do you still remember our wedding vows?" "Of course I do. Clara is the most important person in my life. I promised to put you first, to give you everything, and to make you the happiest woman in the world." "Clara, I swear I've never forgotten that promise. Nothing will change that until the day I die." "You and Lily mean more to me than my own life." He leaned down, gently kissing the tears off my cheeks, letting out a heavy sigh. "I know this has been hard on you. But I’ve already spoken with the clinic. They'll admit Tiffany for specialized treatment in a week at most." "Just hold on for seven more days. She's mentally unstable right now. Nothing she does is real." Really? If none of it was real, why did he rush to wash her scent off his body? I stared down at our sleeping daughter and kept silent. The autumn chill seemed to seep straight into my bones, freezing me from the inside out.The next morning, Tiffany threw another fit. She tossed my wedding ring straight into the garbage and screamed at the top of her lungs, demanding to move into the master bedroom. "We are husband and wife! Why did you buy a ring for that woman?!" "I want the master bedroom! That’s my place!" "Damian, did you forget your parents forced me to marry Logan? Did you forget Logan died in that car crash because he was answering your call? You made me a widow! How could you treat me like this?!" That was her trump card. Years ago, she and Damian were each other's first loves. Then, for reasons unknown, Damian’s parents forced her to marry his older brother, Logan, and they moved abroad right after the wedding. When Logan died in a car crash, Tiffany claimed it happened because he was distracted by Damian's phone call. Racked with guilt, Damian indulged her every demand. Today was no different. He walked over to me, looking torn, and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Clara, I'll buy you another ring. Don't fight with her." "Besides, the master bedroom gets more sunlight. It’s better for her recovery..." I stared at him, my expression devoid of emotion. "No. Either she leaves this house, or I do." Damian's face darkened with impatience. "Enough, Clara! Are you still throwing a tantrum over what happened last night?" "Nothing even happened between us. Stop being so petty." I stared at him in disbelief. A kiss meant *nothing happened*? What had to happen for it to count? Did he even remember who his wife was? Looking at the man before me, I felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. I let out a dry laugh, walked toward the nursery, and scooped Lily into my arms. "Fine. She can have the master bedroom." "She can have the whole house, too. I'm taking Lily to a postpartum recovery retreat." With a ticking time bomb like Tiffany around, I couldn't risk my daughter's safety. Damian frowned. "You're running away?" "No," I replied calmly. "Didn't you say she's sick? I'm just giving her the space to recover." Cornered by his own logic, Damian froze, his face pale with frustration. Suddenly, Tiffany dropped to her knees in front of me with a loud thud, clutching my jeans while sobbing hysterically, acting as though she had suddenly snapped out of it. "I'm sorry, Clara! It’s all my fault!" "I remember now! My mind gets confused, and I keep thinking Damian is Logan! I threw away your ring like a crazy woman! You took in a pathetic widow like me, how could I do this to you?" "Please don't leave! Lily is so small. If anyone should leave, it’s me!" Tiffany had that delicate, innocent look that made people want to protect her. When she cried, she looked utterly defenseless. Yet the grip she had on my legs was bruising. She jerked my legs so hard that I almost dropped Lily! "Let go of me!" Furious, I kicked her off. "If you truly felt guilty, you would have stayed far away from us!" With a dull thud, her head struck the floor, and blood trickled down her forehead. "I'm... I'm sorry. It's all my fault..." she whined. The next second, a hard slap landed squarely across my face. Damian stood over me, his eyes bloodshot with rage. "She was apologizing to you, and you tried to kill her!" "Clara, since when did you become so vicious?!"In the seven years we had been together, if I so much as scratched a finger, Damian would beat himself up over it. Now, he had struck me across the face for Tiffany. The loud noise terrified Lily, and she burst into frantic screams. I held her tightly against my chest, watching Damian pick Tiffany up in sheer panic and rush out the door toward the hospital. My heart shattered completely. If you loved Tiffany so much... Damian, why did you fight so hard to marry me in the first place? Lily wouldn't stop crying. I stayed home and spent hours rocking her back and forth until she finally fell asleep. Somewhere along the way, I passed out from exhaustion. When I woke up, the sound of breathless moans drifted up from the living room downstairs. My face went completely pale. I walked down the stairs, freezing in horror at the scene on the sofa. Damian was sitting there, his expression strained with restraint, while Tiffany straddled his lap, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Even covered in sweat, Damian kept a steady grip on her waist, carefully supporting her so she wouldn't slip. He was wide awake. My daughter and I were right upstairs, yet he couldn't even control himself. He was openly sleeping with her right in the living room. Or had he assumed I already left with our daughter, giving him free rein to do whatever he wanted? This was the husband I chose? The father I picked for my daughter? The room spun. I thought I had already hit rock bottom with Damian. Only now did I realize that a broken heart could hurt this much. The suffocating pain tore through my chest, forcing a raw, choked scream from my throat. Tiffany brazenly turned her head, flashing me a filthy, smug look that burned into my retinas. Damian, however, merely glared at me and snapped coldly, "Go back upstairs!" I forced the words through my clenched teeth. "What... did you just say?" "Today marks a week since Logan passed. Tiffany tried to kill herself earlier. I'm doing this to save her!" "Just listen to me! A life is on the line. I'll explain everything later!"I couldn't hold it in anymore. I bolted to the bathroom and dry-heaved over the toilet. By the end, streaks of bright red blood stained the bowl. The sheer disgust of that scene choked me. It wasn't just Tiffany's pathetic act. Damian, the man who had shared my bed for seven years, disgusted me to my very core. Sleeping with his brother's widow on the anniversary of his brother's death—how could he stomach himself? I walked straight into the study, printed out a divorce agreement, and packed my bags. Everything I couldn't take with me—especially the thousands of photos documenting our seven years together—I threw into the metal fireplace and set ablaze. Love had burned to ash. There was no point in keeping any of it. "Stop it!" Fresh out of the shower, Damian rushed into the room, his eyes going wide at the burning photos turning to gray dust. He dove frantically toward the fire, scorching his bare hands as he tried to salvage whatever scraps he could. I watched him quietly, then held out the signed divorce papers. "Sign it. I get full custody of Lily." His face twisted with rage, and he tore the papers to shreds. "Tiffany is unstable! I had no choice! Did you want me to just stand by and watch her die in front of me?" "Clara, please, just give me a little more time! I'm sending her to the hospital in the next couple of days, and then I'll come home and dedicate my life to you and our daughter!" A hollow laugh escaped my lips. Really? Too bad, Damian. I don't want a life with you anymore.After that night, Damian locked me inside the estate, ordering the security team and staff not to let me out. When the seven days were up, he finally arranged for a medical transport to take Tiffany away. The van pulled up outside, but before anyone could stop her, Tiffany bolted upstairs, snatched Lily from her crib, and climbed onto the balcony railing. "You bitch! Did you call that van to lock me away?" "Don't even dream about it! Damian is mine! You and your bastard are the ones who need to get out!" Her eyes were wild with venom, glaring at Lily with terrifying hatred. I lunged forward to grab my baby, but Tiffany leaned close to my ear, whispering in a low, triumphant purr. "You have no idea, do you? We've done it in every single corner of this house." "The night of your baby shower, he took me right in front of that little brat." "Do you think that after watching us so many times, she'll grow up thinking I'm her real mother?" Furious tremors wracked my body. I raised my hand to slap the smirk off her face. "You sick bitch!" Right then, Damian caught Tiffany off guard and snatched Lily out of her arms. Tiffany flinched, then suddenly burst into tears, dropping down to cling to Damian's legs while slapping herself across the face. "I'm so sorry, Damian! The episodes are getting worse! How could I grab my niece like that? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." "You're still lying!" My chest felt ready to explode. I lunged forward to hit her, but Damian stepped in between us, grabbing my wrists. "Lily is fine! Stop losing your mind!" "She almost threw our daughter off the balcony, and you're calling me crazy?! Damian, do you even remember you're her father?!" I screamed at him, my voice cracking. Damian froze for a second. Then, he gathered the weeping Tiffany into his arms and muttered under his breath: "The clinic sent over her reports this morning. On top of the PTSD, she has leukemia. She doesn't have much time left. Just cut her some slack." He carried Tiffany down the stairs and put her into his car. I rushed over to the chair where he had set Lily down. She was sound asleep, completely unbothered by the chaos. "Good girl... You're being so brave today." "Daddy is a bad man. It'll just be you and Mommy from now on, okay?" Determined to leave Damian forever, I leaned down to kiss her soft little cheek. My heart stopped. Her face had turned an unnatural, bruised gray. Around her tiny neck were two rows of dark, adult finger marks. Tiffany had choked her! My entire world collapsed. I scooped my baby into my arms and ran like mad for the car, speeding straight to the hospital. "Hold on, Lily! Stay with Mommy! It's all Mommy's fault... Mommy didn't protect you!" Tears blinded me as I frantically rubbed her tiny, icy hands between my palms. As if rubbing them would bring back her warmth. As if it would make her open those big, round eyes and babble for her mother. When I stumbled into the hospital corridor, I saw Damian standing outside a private room, talking to the chief physician. "You knew all along that Miss Vance doesn't have PTSD. Why did you lie to your wife?" Damian tapped his cigarette, his tone entirely flat. "Tiffany and I grew up together. Life hasn't been easy for her since Logan died. It's only fair to let her vent. Clara has always been gentle. She'll understand eventually." A cold blade plunged straight through my chest, twisting until nothing was left but shredded flesh. Reality hit me like a freight train. My Lily had been choked to death. And the murderer was sitting safely in the VIP ward behind her biological father. Tiffany's illness had been a calculated lie from start to finish—one Damian had knowingly played along with. And that lie cost my innocent baby her life. Agony ripped through me, plunging me into a bottomless abyss. One sentence echoed relentlessly in my head: *It was all a lie. They killed Lily...* The precious life I had carried for nine months, my flesh and blood, was gone. The metallic taste of blood flooded my throat. A high-pitched ringing consumed my ears. I finally doubled over, vomiting a pool of dark blood onto the floor. Clutching my dead child tightly to my chest, I climbed onto the corridor windowsill and let myself fall. *Don't be scared, Lily. Mommy's coming with you...* Downstairs, just outside the lobby, Damian heard a heavy, sickening thud. Immediately followed by the piercing screams of the crowd. An inexplicable wave of dread exploded in his chest. He instinctively reached out, grabbing a passing nurse. "Who... who just jumped?"