He spent the majority of the time buried in work calls, barking orders at his secretary. He was so consumed by his own world that he never noticed I had lost the baby.
When he glanced at me, lying pale and fragile on the hospital bed, all he did was lean in and place a brief kiss on my cheek before leaving.
I turned my head, turning away from him.
"I’ve already issued a public statement. Your plagiarism issue is resolved," he said, his voice detached.
I had seen that statement. It wasn’t about me at all. It was solely a defense of Imogen, offering no rebuttal or clarity about the plagiarism accusations.
Instead, it only served to stoke the fury of journalists, who eagerly seized on more opportunities to tarnish my name.
And then there was the issue of my pregnancy.
Although Cohen had admitted I was the one he was engaged to, in the eyes of the public, I was nothing more than the unwelcome third party, using a child to tear apart his relationship with Imogen.
The public’s outcry against me only grew louder, fueled by the plagiarism accusations.
As if that wasn’t enough, someone unearthed my past as a foster child in the Whitmore family. I was mocked, called someone who deserved to be abandoned, and, shockingly, they even cursed the child I had lost.
"Giselle, consider this a lesson for you," Cohen said, his voice colder than ever.
"Take care of yourself. Once you're better, I’ll take you to Imogen’s exhibition."
"If you attend and apologize to her, we’ll go ahead with the wedding as planned."
When he left, he kissed my forehead, not in comfort, but as a command.
I had forgotten how Cohen could punish me.
He was vengeful, especially when it came to me being around others.
I remembered a time from my childhood when I had sneaked out to play with the other kids while Cohen was undergoing physical therapy.
I’d made sure to return before his session ended, but Cohen panicked. He searched for me for hours, asking why I hadn’t stayed home with him.
That day, despite never raising his voice at me, he made me stand in punishment for an hour. He told me I wasn’t allowed to leave without his permission.
Cohen’s attention usually made me feel the warmth of family, but now, it only unsettled me. I couldn’t stand the thought of him remaining entangled with Imogen while I told myself everything was fine between us. This wasn’t right.