The Moon That Once Watched Over Me

At the company's annual event, an oddly shaped necklace tumbled out of my wife's purse. It was engraved with her friend's initials, L.L. To protect his privacy, Camille Sinclair announced our secret seven-year marriage right there in front of everyone. She pulled me up on stage and gave the cameras a shy little smile. "Those letters are my husband's initials, Liam Locke. It's got nothing to do with anyone else." After the show ended, I let go of her hand and quietly begged, "I did what you wanted. Now can I get my mom's medication for this month?" That was when her best friend, Logan Lane, showed up carrying a box stuffed full of erectile dysfunction pills. He made sure the whole room heard him as he said, "Hey, bro, before you worry about your mother's illness, maybe worry about getting it up first. Camille's always complaining to me that you can't get the job done. She can't keep using toys to get by, can she?" The spotlight swung onto me, and thousands of people burst out laughing. By the next afternoon, I was the laughingstock of the entire industry. I was known as the husband who couldn't perform. Camille savored the sight of me falling apart. "Honey, you should learn some gratitude. Why don't you thank Logan?" I walked out under everyone's mocking stares. When I got back to the hospital, I found my dying mother hanging from the ceiling fan. Clutched in her hand was a suicide note, stained with blood. [Don't waste money treating me anymore. Don't beg her for anything ever again. Don't let her make you suffer another day.] Chapter 1 Liam's POV The crematorium workers cut the thick rope from around the neck of my mother, Margaret Locke. Her stiff body hit the ground in front of me with a heavy thud. I, Liam Locke, followed them in a daze, watching as they pushed her into the furnace and reduced her to a handful of ash. "How could she do something like that? Hanging herself is such a painful way to go," a nurse murmured beside me while we filled out the death certificate. I forced a smile, but couldn't stop the tears. It was nearly midnight by the time I'd taken care of everything. I carried her urn home, and when I reached the door, I heard a commotion inside. Camille Sinclair and Logan Lane were tangled together on the couch, her lace underwear lying discarded on the floor. Logan lifted his head and looked right at me when I walked in. Without missing a beat, he pulled her closer and grinned. "Don't take it personally, Liam. Camille's just needed a little help because she's ovulating today. You and I are basically brothers. I'd never get between you two." Camille didn't spare me even a glance. She kept her arms wrapped tight around Logan's neck. I stood there staring at the ridiculous scene in front of me, my hands shaking at my sides. Someone slammed the bedroom door shut, and suddenly I felt cold all over. Seven years. Seven years of bending to Camille's every demand just to keep my mother's medication coming. And in the end, I had nothing to show for it. I held the urn tighter against my chest, so I could feel like my mother was still right here with me. When my phone suddenly rang, it took me a moment to come back to myself. "Mr. Locke, we just need to confirm the details for the assisted death procedure you scheduled. Can you confirm the patient's name? Margaret Locke, your mother?" I'd set that up because I was terrified she'd die in agony if I couldn't get the medication in time. Instead, she'd died in agony anyway. I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles went white. It took me a long moment to speak. "Everything stays the same. Just change the name on file." The second I said it, Camille appeared behind me, her whole body still marked with fresh red patches. "Change it to whose name?" she asked, her voice rough and worn out from what she'd just been doing. I hung up without answering her. She pouted and reached for my neck, trying to pull me into a kiss. My skin crawled at her touch, and I choked down the urge to gag as I pushed her off. "Don't touch me." Camille blinked, caught off guard. "Are you mad at me? Didn't you say your mother wanted a grandchild before she died? You can't get me pregnant, so I had to ask Logan for help." Chapter 2 My hands curled into fists, and something bitter rose in my chest. Because of a physical condition, I'd never be able to give Camille a child of her own. She knew exactly how much that fact tortured me. "Logan and I grew up together. There's nothing romantic between us. If I have to sleep with someone, it might as well be him instead of some stranger. Once I'm pregnant, I'll tell your mother the good news. It'll make her happy," Camille said nonchalantly, like she was talking about the weather. She shoved a bottle of pills into my hand without even looking at me. "That's Margaret's medication for the month. Don't forget to thank Logan for his little gift. Otherwise, I can't promise you'll get next month's medication on time." After saying that, she shut the bathroom door in my face. Seven years had already erased any memory I had of her ever loving me. Everything changed the moment Logan came back into her life. He convinced her that the only reason I married her was for the new specialty drug her pharmaceutical company developed. It was the best treatment available for my mother's condition. Camille believed him completely, never doubting him for a second. I stared at the pill bottle in my hand until my eyes burned red. Because of that one bottle, I'd lost my dignity. Now, I'd lost my mother too. I refused to believe she had killed herself out of nowhere, especially since she told me she'd keep fighting and that she wanted to be there when Camille and I had a baby. To find out what really happened, I hired a private investigator to dig up evidence. After I left his office, I went back to Camille's place. The front gates were wide open, and I could hear the sounds of a party from inside. Someone had strung balloons and streamers all over the walls, as well as a huge banner. [Congratulations, Logan and Camille! May your love last forever!] A crowd had gathered, cheering someone on. "What are you waiting for? Say yes already!" I pushed through the crowd and saw Logan down on one knee, sliding a diamond ring onto Camille's finger. When someone spotted me, the cheering died down fast. A hundred mocking eyes turned my way. "Well, look who's home. Camille, it's your eunuch of a husband." "No wonder you kept the marriage a secret. Who can blame you? A husband like him isn't exactly someone you show off." Camille looked up and met my eyes. As she slid her hand out of Logan's grip, the ring caught the light right in front of me. "We're just playing a game. Don't read into it," she said, a little too stiffly. I looked away and flatly replied, "Carry on. Don't mind me." She hadn't expected me to stay so calm. Something in her expression cracked just slightly. I pushed the bedroom door open, then immediately froze. I'd left my mother's urn in the room, but it was gone now. "Oh, I almost forgot to mention." Logan smacked his forehead, looking a little sheepish. "We were in a rush setting up the proposal, and I saw a jar in your room that looked like it was full of decorative ash, so I used it. It's just a game of truth or dare. You don't mind, do you, bro?" Burning with anger, I shoved through the crowd around me, and what I saw nearly drove me mad. My mother's ashes had been arranged into the shape of a heart, and bits of bone had been trampled carelessly across the floor. I lunged at Logan and grabbed his throat. Everyone froze, stunned by how suddenly I'd snapped. "Did you do that on purpose? Those are my mom's remains! Camille and I aren't even divorced yet, and you're already lining up to take my place?" I screamed raggedly. Logan gasped for air under my grip, flailing his arms. "Camille, help me! Your husband's lost his mind, he's trying to kill me!" Camille grabbed an ashtray off the table and slammed it into my head. Blood ran down my face, dripping onto my mother's ashes. I ignored the pain and scrambled to wipe the blood away with shaking hands. As Camille threw the ashtray down beside me, it shattered, and a shard cut into my fingers. "Liam, what is wrong with you? If you're jealous, just say so. Stop pretending you don't care." Chapter 3 "Logan told you it's just a game. Can't you let it go?" I couldn't hear a word she was saying. All I could do was gather my mother's ashes back into the urn. Playing the victim, Logan clutched his throat and whined, "Camille, my neck really hurts. I almost died just now." She had been going on and on at me a second ago, but went silent at his words. She ran her fingers gently over the marks on his neck and rushed him off to the hospital, panicked out of her mind. The mansion went quiet, empty except for me. There wasn't much left of my mother's ashes, but it still took me a long time to gather it all. I fought back tears, refusing to let them fall onto her remains. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mom." In the silence, my phone buzzed with a new message from the private investigator. [Mr. Locke, I don't think your mother's death was a suicide.] He sent me a five-minute clip of security footage, in which both my mother and Logan could be seen. I couldn't make out what they said to each other in those five minutes, but right after he left, my mother used a rope to end her life. I sat on the floor and watched that video over and over, torturing myself with it, until I heard movement at the front door. Camille stormed in, her face dark, and slammed her purse against my head. "You're coming with me to apologize to Logan." When I looked up and met her eyes, whatever she'd been about to say died in her throat at the hatred she saw there. "My mom is dead. Logan killed her. And you want me to apologize to a murderer? Camille Sinclair, I will never forgive you for as long as I live." Her expression froze for a second, then twisted into a sneer. "You think I need your forgiveness? I've gone to such lengths, yet you still refuse to divorce me. It's because Margaret still needs my medication, isn't it? If you need something from me, you could at least show a little sincerity." Her gaze landed on the phone in my hand, on the video. Without a moment's hesitation, she snatched it, threw it to the ground, and crushed it under her heel. "Besides playing the victim and begging me for medicine to save your mom, what else are you good for? So what if Margaret's dead? You think I'd actually believe you?" She took a sharp breath and threw a pregnancy test result in my face. "I was actually going to tell you I'm pregnant, so Margaret could hold her grandchild before she died. And this is how you repay Logan?" My eyes went wide. For a second, I couldn't process what she'd said. "What?" I whispered. I stared at the words on the page and let out a strange, broken laugh. Whatever unrealistic hope I'd still been holding onto shattered right then. Watching me fall apart, Camille reached out to help me up. "I'll make Logan pay for what he did. I'll get justice for my mom," I said, my voice hoarse. Her hand froze in midair. She studied me for a long moment, disappointment creeping into her eyes. "Is that seriously all you have to say to me?" she asked. I wiped my tears and ignored her. She could crush that video all she wanted. I already had a backup copy. "Fine. Do whatever you want. If you think you can actually pull it off, go ahead and try," she said, laughing coldly as she slammed the door on her way out. And she turned out to be right. I took the evidence to law firm after law firm, and not one of them would take my case. No one wanted to fight it in court. They all turned me down with the exact same excuse. "Even with security footage, your mother's death was still officially ruled a suicide. If you don't have solid proof, please don't waste our time. Find someone else." Everyone laughed at me for even trying, and I hated myself for not being able to get justice for my mother. After the last law firm in Kingsley turned me away, I sat on the curb outside for a long time. Long enough that the moon rose and fireworks lit up the sky. As passersby stopped to watch, I could hear their envious voices drifting past. Chapter 4 "Must be nice being rich. Ms. Sinclair dropped a fortune on fireworks just to make her childhood friend happy, like the money's nothing to her." "Guess we're lucky enough to catch the show for free." My eyes burned, and I buried my face in my arms. Tears slipped through my fingers. 'I'm sorry, Mom.' - When I stopped trying to find a lawyer to take my case, Camille assumed I'd finally given up. After that, she and Logan stopped even pretending to be discreet. She started carrying on with him in public, and even when reporters picked up on it, everyone decided she deserved better than a useless husband like me. I didn't fight or argue. I didn't even try to defend myself. I acted like I'd accepted everything completely. "Wasn't it easier just behaving yourself?" Camille said as she climbed out of bed, looking at my calm expression with something close to contempt. I quietly set a stack of papers on the table. It was a list of meal plans I'd once put together for her. "I wrote down everything you can't eat. You've got a sensitive stomach, so go easy on the alcohol. I already talked to Logan. He'll be the one making you a glass of warm milk before bed from now on. Then again, you two have been together for years. He probably knows all this better than I ever did." I had told Logan everything—every detail, every habit of hers I could think of. I stayed so calm through it all that whatever sharp comment Camille had ready died on her lips. "And here, this is the protection charm you asked me to get blessed before we got married. The cord's already snapped. It can't be tied back together..." "What exactly are you trying to do?" Camille cut me off, frowning. Confusion and irritation flashed across her face. "Are you throwing another fit? I already gave you this month's medication. I'm just having a baby. Is that really such a big deal to you?" She paused, then pulled out a set of divorce papers and threw them down in front of me. "Forget it, let's not get into that right now. It's not fair to Logan to lend me his sperm and get nothing in return. I'm going to give him a wedding to make up for it. "We'll do a fake divorce first. Once the baby's born, we can remarry. In exchange, I'll cover every cent of Margaret's treatment from now on. I'll bring in the best medical team money can buy..." Before she could finish, I'd already signed my name without even bothering to read the terms. Camille stared at me, stunned, her mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out. While she was still frozen in shock, I pulled out a property transfer agreement. The house had been hers before we got married. She had bought it with her own money, but the deed was in my name. As I flipped through the transfer papers, another document slipped out from between the pages. Camille didn't get a good look at it, only catching the words "assisted death" before it landed face-down on the floor. Something seemed to click for her, and her expression turned complicated. "Good, I'm glad you finally see reason. It's better to let your mother go in peace than have her suffer through a lifetime of medication." She didn't sign the property transfer. Instead, she snatched the divorce papers back out of my hands. "Keep the house. It's just a fake divorce. It's not like we're never coming back. Don't worry, I'll keep my word. Margaret will get the best care there is. And I won't hold this over your head anymore." As she said it, she called David Smith, the dean of her private hospital. "Let the medical team know to take good care of Margaret. Make sure she's still alive to see her grandson born." Her tone dripped with condescension, and she glanced my way like she was expecting me to react. I lowered my head and avoided her eyes, running my thumb gently over the urn in my hands. The air went cold and still. On the other end of the line, there was a long silence before the voice finally stammered out an answer, "Ms. Sinclair, didn't Mr. Locke tell you? Mrs. Locke passed away a month ago."