elissa Bush stood in the middle of the crowded street, the noise around her barely registering over the chaos in her own head. Her phone buzzed, and when she saw her mom’s name, she picked up like it was her last lifeline.
“Mom… Hugh wants to call off the wedding,” she managed to say, her voice cracking before it gave way to quiet sobs.
“What?!” Lillian Clayton’s voice practically exploded through the phone. “Melissa, are you serious? The wedding’s tomorrow! What the hell happened?”
Every word Melissa forced out felt like tearing open a wound that refused to heal. “The premarital medical report… it says I’m infertile.”
Her voice wavered, the last word almost choking her. “But it might be a mistake! Mom, I swear, I never wanted his damn money. I even told him I’d sign a prenup! But he still—” She cut off, unable to finish, the words catching in her throat.
Her thoughts spiraled, dragging her back to when she and Hugh had first fallen in love. Back in college, he’d been her everything—her rock. As soon as they graduated, he got down on one knee and promised her forever.
Sure, his family had looked down their noses at her modest background, but Hugh never let that shake him. He always made her feel like they were unbreakable.
She couldn’t forget that awful summer during her junior year, after the car accident that forced her to take a break from school. The gossip had been brutal—people whispering that she was working shady jobs, or worse, selling herself to make ends meet. It had been hell.
But Hugh stood by her, brushing off the rumors like they were nothing, making it clear to everyone that he was with her, no matter what.
If it weren’t for him, those disgusting accusations might’ve followed her forever.
She’d never had that growing up. Her parents’ divorce left her with wounds she didn’t even know how to name.
Her mom’s fragile health and her stepdad’s temper—fueled by booze—made life feel like walking on eggshells every day.
He never cared for the family, only about where his next drink was coming from, and when he got angry, he made sure everyone in the house paid for it.
Marriage, to Melissa, wasn’t just about love—it was her ticket to a better life. A safe haven. Not just for her, but for her mom too.
And now? Now she was being thrown away like yesterday’s trash because she might not be able to have kids. In this so-called modern world, this was enough to undo everything she and Hugh had built.
The word infertile sent a shiver through Lillian, but she quickly swallowed her shock.
Her voice softened, steady but full of determination. “Melissa, baby, stop crying. Just come home, okay? We’ll figure this out. Together.”
Melissa nodded, even though her tears hadn’t stopped. Her mom’s voice was like a warm blanket around her frayed nerves, and for the first time all day, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.
At least she still had her mom.
Husband or no husband, Melissa wasn’t about to let life chew her up and spit her out. If Hugh wanted out, fine. She’d pick herself up, find a job, and build her own life. She didn’t need a savior. She’d be her own hero—and protect her mom in the process.
Melissa pushed open the beat-up door of her dingy little apartment, and the sour, unmistakable stink of alcohol hit her like a slap. She gagged, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“Drunk again,” she muttered under her breath, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation.
She moved quietly, her steps careful and deliberate, like she was trying to navigate a minefield. All she wanted was to sneak into her room without stirring up the hornet’s nest.
“Hey! Don’t you fucking move!” The shout came like a whip crack, sharp and ice-cold, freezing her in place.
Her heart jumped into her throat as she slowly turned around, dread creeping up her spine.
Jack Walton, her stepfather was staggering toward her, weaving unsteadily, but still managing to look threatening as hell. “So, it’s true,” he growled, his words slurred but still venomous. “The Wallaker family broke off the damn engagement? What the fuck did you do this time, huh?”
Melissa’s stomach churned. Her pulse hammered in her ears as she tried to find the right words to diffuse the situation. Arguing would only make things worse, but she couldn’t figure out how she explained something like this.
“I… I need to talk to Mom,” she stammered, her voice shaking as her eyes darted toward the half-open door of the master bedroom.
She caught a glimpse of Lillian’s dress peeking through the crack, and hope surged in her chest. She edged toward the bedroom, desperate for escape. But escape wasn’t in the cards.
She’d barely made it two steps when a sharp, searing pain ripped through her scalp. She cried out in shock as Jack’s hand yanked her back by the hair.
“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!” he snarled, his grip like iron. “Answer me, goddamn it! Why did the Wallakers call it off? What’d you do? What’s your fucking excuse this time? You cheating on him, you little whore?”
The accusation hit her harder than the pull on her hair. Tears sprang to her eyes as anger and humiliation bubbled to the surface.
“No! That’s not true!” she cried, her voice cracking. “I wasn’t cheating! I was just delivering wedding invitations to my classmates!”
“Bullshit!” he spat, his voice rising as his hand tightened. “I saw you yesterday, laughing it up with some guy like you didn’t have a care in the fucking world. Don’t you dare lie to me!”
Melissa’s whole body trembled as she tried to pull away, her voice trembling. “It wasn’t like that! I swear to God!”
He ignored her, his voice growing louder and nastier. “You think I don’t know you? You’ve been spreading your legs for any guy who looks at you twice! You think I’m blind? Jesus Christ, I actually thought you were trying to clean up your act, but no—same old useless slut! After all I’ve done for you!
“And now, with the Wallakers out of the picture, you think you can just stay here for free? Hell no. You’re gonna start pulling your weight.”
Before she could process his words, he grabbed the front of her shirt and ripped it down the middle.
Melissa gasped, crossing her arms over her chest instinctively. Her entire body shook with terror as she saw the look in his eyes now—hungry, predatory, disgusting.
“No!” she screamed, thrashing as hard as she could. “Mom! Mom, help me! Please!” But the house stayed silent.
Jack laughed, low and mean. “You really think she’s coming to save you? She can hear you just fine, sweetheart. And if she ain’t coming out, you already know why. Now, be a good girl, and maybe I won’t throw you and your useless mother out on the street.”
Her blood ran cold. She twisted and fought with everything she had, her voice hoarse from screaming. “Mom! Please! Help me! Mom!”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Her mother—Lillian Clayton—was standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, her pale face just visible through the crack.
For one brief, heart-stopping moment, their eyes met. Then the door closed. Softly. Quietly. Finally.
The sound shattered something inside Melissa. She stared at the door, her mind reeling with disbelief. Her chest ached as the betrayal washed over her.
The woman she had sacrificed so much for, fought so hard to protect, had abandoned her. Just like that.
Jack’s weight bore down on her, his breath hot and foul against her skin.
Something inside her snapped. The fight drained out of her body, leaving her limp and hollow. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the closed door, her heart breaking into pieces.
Jack’s grin twisted into something vile as Melissa dissolved into despair. He pressed down harder, his weight like a crushing anchor, his hands fumbling clumsily with his belt.
The sour reek of alcohol poured off him, thick and nauseating, choking the air between them. Melissa gagged, bile rising in her throat. ‘This isn’t happening. It can’t be real.’ Her chest tightened, panic clawing at her insides.
She twisted her head, desperate for anything—any escape. That’s when she saw it: a fruit knife, glinting innocuously on the coffee table just a few feet away.
Her trembling hand darted out, fingers curling around the cold, unforgiving metal. She gripped it tight, but the weight of the blade sent her mind spiraling.
Her stomach churned. She hated blood—hated violence. She couldn’t even bring herself to kill a fly, and now she was supposed to stab someone? The thought made her hands freeze, the knife shaking in her grip.
But her stepfather wasn’t waiting. His pants were already halfway down his legs, his drunken, clumsy hands yanking and pulling at her clothes.
Something snapped. Melissa let out a broken cry, her chest heaving as she clenched her teeth. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t care. With a surge of blind, desperate fury, she raised the knife and drove it straight into his back.
“Ah, fuck!” His scream ripped through the air. He reeled back, clutching at his back as blood seeped through his shirt. He staggered, his breath ragged, but the fury in his eyes only burned hotter.
“You little bitch!” he snarled, his voice slurred and feral. “You think this is gonna stop me?!” He stumbled toward her, hands reaching, his face twisted into something monstrous.
Melissa scrambled to her feet, her whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind. The knife trembled in her hand, its weight unfamiliar and terrifying. “Stay back!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “I swear to God, I’ll use it again! Don’t fucking come near me!”
But he didn’t stop. He wasn’t listening. “You’re dead, you hear me? You’re fucking dead!” he roared, spit flying from his lips as he lunged at her.
Melissa’s breath hitched. Her legs felt like jelly, her heart pounding so hard it threatened to burst. She shut her eyes tight and thrust the knife forward, blind and wild.
This time, the blade struck true. It plunged into his chest with a sickening crunch. His body jerked, his breath catching in a horrible gurgle.
For a moment, his eyes locked on hers, wide with shock, before the fire drained out of them. He stumbled back, his knees buckling as his weight collapsed into itself. Then he hit the floor. Hard.
Melissa froze. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Her fingers went limp, the knife clattering to the floor beside her. The world around her blurred into nothing but the sight of his lifeless body, blood pooling dark and thick beneath him.
Then came the sound of a door slamming open. “Melissa!” Her mother’s voice ripped through the stillness, sharp and panicked. Lillian stormed into the room, her eyes darting wildly between Melissa and the bloodied corpse on the floor. She marched straight to Melissa, snatched the knife from her hand, and flung it across the room.
“That’s your stepfather, you stupid, ungrateful brat!” Lillian screamed, pointing a trembling finger at the body. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? He’s the one who’s kept a roof over our heads all these years! The one who’s fed you! And you—what, you just fucking stab him?!”
Melissa stared at her, her cheek throbbing, her chest heaving. The words hit her harder than the slap. Her mother wasn’t angry about what had almost happened. She wasn’t furious about what he had done.
