Camilla's POV
Pregnant.
The word echoed through my mind like a death sentence. My brain processed the information, but every fiber of my being rejected it.
I pivoted around slowly, my movements mechanical and stiff. My gaze found Tom, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. Instead, he studied the polished floor like it held the secrets of the universe. When I finally managed to speak, my voice sounded foreign to my own ears.
"Tom... tell me she's lying."
In that moment, I begged every force in the universe to let him look up and deny it. To tell me Delia had lost her mind. To say this was all some twisted nightmare I could wake up from. To promise me he hadn't destroyed everything we built together. Everything we promised our daughter.
But he remained frozen. His mouth stayed sealed. His shoulders tensed as he shifted his weight, avoiding my desperate stare like I carried some contagious disease. That single moment of cowardice told me everything.
Words weren't necessary anymore. His silence spoke louder than any confession.
The truth crashed over me like ice water.
Delia carried his baby. And here I stood, his wife of years, reduced to nothing more than an inconvenience. A witness to my own humiliation.
Something fundamental shattered inside my chest. The pain started as a sharp stab near my heart, then radiated outward like poison through my bloodstream. My stomach churned violently. My throat closed up. My knees threatened to give out. No tears came. No screams escaped. I simply... disintegrated from within.
Moving like a ghost, I turned and walked toward his office door. No goodbyes were exchanged. No explanations were demanded. I didn't glance back once.
Every footstep felt like I was walking through quicksand. My stilettos clicked against the polished marble with an almost deafening rhythm in the oppressive quiet. The corridor seemed to sway around me, but I forced myself forward. I had to escape. I had to find air.
"Mrs. Collin?" Tom's secretary rose from her desk as I passed.
Concern etched across her features. She'd witnessed the entire scene through the glass walls. I could read the sympathy in her expression.
"Do you need anything?"
I couldn't respond. My vocal cords had abandoned me. I pushed past her desk, moving with purpose despite feeling completely lost.
The elevator arrived quickly, doors sliding open with a soft chime. But as I stepped toward it, claustrophobia gripped me. I couldn't be trapped in that small space. I couldn't stay still.
Instead, I veered toward the emergency stairwell. The heavy door gave way under my palm. Step by step, I descended, clutching the handrail like my life depended on it.
Down and down I went, counting nothing, thinking of nothing except moving.
The exit door burst open under my push, flooding me with harsh afternoon sunlight.
The brightness assaulted my senses. I squinted hard, trying to orient myself, but everything kept tilting. I fumbled through my purse for my car keys, fingers trembling uncontrollably. They slipped from my grasp and clattered to the pavement.
"Come on," I whispered desperately, crouching to retrieve them.
My vehicle sat just yards away, but I couldn't make my legs cooperate. My chest felt compressed, like someone had wrapped steel bands around my ribs. My breathing came in short, inadequate gasps. My entire body rebelled against movement.
Driving was impossible. I could barely remain upright. So I abandoned the car and started walking.
No destination existed in my mind. I simply moved away from that building. Away from Tom. Away from the woman who now carried what should have been ours. Away from the marriage I thought was unbreakable.
Pedestrians brushed past me. Traffic roared nearby. None of it registered. Everything felt muffled, like I was underwater.
I continued moving forward.
Delia's announcement replayed on an endless loop in my head. "I'm pregnant."
And Tom... the man who once promised me forever. The man I sacrificed my career ambitions for, working double shifts while he built Collin Enterprise from nothing. The same man who used to kiss my swollen belly during my pregnancy with Joy, whispering promises about our perfect family. He offered me nothing.
No apology. No explanation. Not even a fabricated excuse I could cling to.
Just devastating silence.
My feet began to throb. The expensive heels I'd chosen this morning now felt like torture devices. My silk blouse stuck to my back with perspiration. Still, I couldn't stop.
Stopping meant processing. Processing meant feeling. And feeling meant complete destruction.
A streetlight appeared ahead, and I stumbled toward it. My palm pressed against the cool metal post, using it as an anchor while the world spun wildly around me.
Everything tilted at dangerous angles. My knees wobbled treacherously. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but the spinning only intensified. My heart hammered against my ribs. Nausea rose in my throat. I swallowed hard, fighting it back, but nothing helped.
Then darkness claimed me.
I have no memory of falling. My body simply surrendered to gravity and exhaustion. But instead of hitting concrete, strong arms enveloped me, pulling me against a solid chest.
"Easy now. I've got you. You're safe."
His voice rumbled deep and reassuring. My cheek rested against warm fabric. I tried to identify him, tried to force my eyes open, but everything felt impossibly heavy.
"Don't try to move," he murmured gently.
I attempted to speak, to thank him, but my lips wouldn't cooperate. Exhaustion weighed down every limb. Even the tears I desperately needed to shed remained trapped inside.
He lifted me effortlessly. I didn't question where he was taking me. I didn't have the strength to care.
For the first time in hours, I let go completely. All I knew was the safety of his embrace... like someone still believed I was worth saving.