chapter 4

I sat on the bed, staring blankly as the noise outside faded into silence.

Then came a knock on the door.

Charles stood there with the spare key in his hand. I said nothing.

"I already rented a place for Dallas and her friends," he said flatly. "Let's stop this drama, okay? I should've handled things better, but you really embarrassed her. Go apologize and let it go."

He sounded so casual, like none of it mattered.

And to him, I never really did.

When I walked into the room earlier, I'd overheard him murmuring to Dallas, "Don't mind her. Rich girls like her are always moody—nothing like you. You're so gentle."

In his eyes, I was always the villain.

This dream should've ended a long time ago.

"Why should I apologize?" I laughed coldly and sent him the divorce papers I'd already had drafted.

His face went pale the moment he saw them on his phone.

"Libby, I'm sorry. It's my fault. I've been busy and ignored you, but don't do this, okay? Forget about raising Dallas's baby. Let's have our own, yeah?"

A baby?

He had no idea there already was one—and that I'd never let it be born.

He reached out to touch my face.

The heavy stench of perfume on him made me gag.

His expression turned stormy.

Before he could say anything, I blacked out.

When I came to, I was in a hospital room.

The nurse was the only one there.

My hand went straight to my stomach. If Charles found out, I'd never get rid of the baby.

But what the nurse said calmed me.

After rushing me to the hospital, Charles didn't even wait for the test results. He got a phone call and left right away.

"Is he really your husband?" the nurse asked, frowning. "What could be more important than his wife and child? You're lucky. It's nothing serious. You've just been under too much stress, and the cold got to you."

The nurse spoke up for me.

I smiled faintly and asked her not to tell anyone I was pregnant.

She promised she wouldn't.

Just as I relaxed, Charles walked in, with Dallas holding his hand.

"You're awake?" he said, sitting right down as if nothing were wrong. "What happened to you? Did the doctor say anything?"

I looked at him coolly. "Probably from staying too long in the cold that day. And too much worrying."

"What's there to worry about?" He frowned.

I turned my gaze to Dallas's belly. "You really don't know?"

He looked embarrassed.

Dallas, on the other hand, smiled sweetly and linked her arm through his.

"Libby," she said gently, "since Charles and I will be the baby's parents, we should spend more time together. It's better for the baby's development, don't you think?"

When I didn't answer, she added, "You should get used to seeing us like this. It'll be easier for you next time—no more passing out, okay?"

Then, right in front of me, she tapped her finger against Charles's lips and gave me a smug look.

Charles opened his mouth to say something, but she stopped him.

"Charles, we should let Libby learn to adjust."

The nurse's brows furrowed tighter and tighter until she finally stepped in, saying I needed rest, and ushered them out.

The room fell quiet again.

The nurse looked like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words, eyes full of sympathy.

I didn't care.

My condition wasn't serious, so I could've been discharged soon.

But I didn't leave. I went ahead with the abortion.

I didn't want this child.

Soon after the procedure, I walked out and saw Dallas cuddled up with a man, the two of them way too cozy.

And it definitely wasn't Charles.