Chapter 2 - The Mother-in-Law’s Confession and the Web of Lies**
The sterile white walls of the hospital staff lounge seemed to close in around me as Vivienne’s calculated silence stretched across the phone line. The synthetic hum of the vending machine in the corner felt deafening. For five years, I had treated Vivienne with the utmost respect, welcoming her into our home, funding her holiday trips, and treating her like my own flesh and blood after my parents passed away. I had always believed she was a warm, traditional matriarch devoted to her son's happiness.
“Explain what, Vivienne?” I demanded, my voice dropping into a dangerous, razor-sharp register. “Explain why you aren't surprised that your son is lying in an ICU bed? Or perhaps you want to explain why a twenty-something pregnant woman named Giselle is currently sitting in my waiting room, claiming Dominic is the father of her unborn child?”
Another heavy, agonizing sigh echoed through the receiver, devoid of any genuine remorse.
“Camille, please, calm down and listen to me like an intelligent woman,” Vivienne began, her tone dripping with patronizing condescension. “Things are complicated. Dominic made a mistake, yes, but he was under an immense amount of pressure.”
“A mistake?” I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and foreign in the empty room. “Impregnating another woman while playing the devoted husband for five years is not a mistake, Vivienne. That is a deliberate, calculated betrayal. And judging by your reaction, you knew about her all along, didn't you?”
Vivienne hesitated for a fraction of a second before dropping the polite facade entirely. “Of course I knew. Giselle comes from a very prominent, wealthy family in Westmount. Her father owns a massive real estate development firm. Dominic and I agreed that aligning our family with theirs was a monumental opportunity for his career. You’ve always been married to your work, Camille—always running off to emergency shifts, missing family dinners, putting your hospital above my son’s needs. Dominic needed a woman who could actually support his social ambitions, not a stressed-out ER doctor who smells like antiseptic.”
The sheer audacity of her words paralyzed me. My mind raced back over the last two years—the sudden weekend trips Dominic took "for business," the late nights at the office where he claimed he was closing client accounts, and Vivienne’s frequent, affectionate visits where she would smile in my face while secretly plotting my replacement.
“So you actively helped him cheat on me?” I whispered, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the phone. “You helped him build a double life?”
“I helped my son secure his future,” Vivienne snapped back, her voice sharpening with defensive malice. “And honestly, Camille, you should be thanking me. You’re a successful, independent physician. You don't need a traditional marriage anyway. We were planning to ease you out of the picture gracefully once Giselle’s child was born and the real estate merger was legally finalized next month. The accident just... accelerated the timeline, that’s all.”
*A corporate merger.*
My marriage, my five years of absolute devotion, late-night cooking, emotional support, and shared dreams hadn't been a marriage at all. It had been a temporary holding pattern for Dominic until a wealthier, more socially advantageous prospect walked into his life—with his mother acting as the chief architect of the entire conspiracy.
“You are disgusting,” I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Both of you. And you can tell my wonderful, dying husband the moment he wakes up that he won't have to worry about divorcing me gracefully. I am going to tear him, and this entire fraudulent life you engineered, down to the absolute studs.”
Before Vivienne could sputter another word of justification, I ended the call, cutting her off mid-sentence. I slammed my phone down onto the laminate table, my chest heaving. The professional detachment I had worn like armor for over a decade was completely gone, incinerated by a white-hot fury that demanded total annihilation.
I walked out of the staff lounge and headed back toward the ICU wing. As I passed the private waiting alcove, I noticed Giselle still sitting there, clutching a styrofoam cup of lukewarm hospital coffee. She looked up as I approached, her eyes wide with apprehension.
“Doctor Bouchard... did you talk to his family?” she asked hesitantly, her voice small.
“I spoke to his mother,” I replied, stopping directly in front of her.
“What did she say?”
I looked down at the young woman—who was essentially a pawn in the elaborate, toxic chess game engineered by Vivienne and Dominic—and felt a strange mixture of pity and contempt. “She didn't care that he was dying, Giselle. She cares about real estate portfolios and social status. And if you think you’re going to be welcomed into the Tremblay family with open arms once that baby is born, you are living in a fairy tale.”
Giselle’s lower lip quivered. “He promised me we would get married as soon as his divorce from you was finalized... He said you already knew and agreed to an amicable split months ago.”
A humorless smile touched my lips. “He lied to you, just like he lied to me. He never filed for divorce. Legally, I am still his only wife. Which means every asset, every bank account, and every property he owns is currently tied directly to my name.”
Panic flared in Giselle’s eyes. “What are you going to do?”
“I am going to collect what belongs to me,” I said quietly. “And then I am going to watch them burn.”
May you like
I turned on my heel and marched down the corridor toward the hospital’s administrative records office. It was time to stop playing the victim and start dismantling the empire of lies my husband and mother-in-law had built over my ruined life.
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