4#04

4

He once vowed to share every happiness and hardship with me.

Now, he refused to swallow the unpleasant medication that numbed his tongue.

Yet I constantly saw him enjoying desserts in the photos Holly shared with her friends online.

I was the sole person making countless hospital visits—enduring tests, getting prescriptions filled, and preparing herbal remedies.

I consumed it all in one go, as if the baby was an answer to my wishes.

I took a cab to the medical center, caressing my stomach and silently hoping.

My little one.

I apologize that your father isn't excited about your arrival.

Perhaps you'd be better off being born into a joyful, intact household.

After a lengthy process, I shakily signed the surgical consent form.

The outcome of three years of wishing and praying was ended by my own decision today.

Exiting the surgery area, I felt lightheaded and feeble.

I messaged Darrell, requesting a ride.

In the messaging app, an image appeared—Holly wearing skimpy lace undergarments.

The perspective indicated it was taken by someone standing right in front of her.

I tried to view it, but it vanished almost instantly.

I turned around, and her saccharine voice broke the quiet behind me.

"I'm so sorry. I sent that to the wrong person," Holly said, her words laced with feigned regret.

"Are you asking Mr. Thornton to collect you from the hospital? I'm afraid he's occupied with work matters and might not be able to come."

"What gives you the right to decide for him? Are you his assistant or his guardian?"

Before she could respond, I shut off my phone, feeling a weight in my chest.

...Even his secretary now had access to his phone.

I recalled the last time he'd quickly hidden his screen when I glanced at it.

Later, he claimed he was awaiting updates from an important client and couldn't risk interruptions.

But I had already seen the truth—there was only one contact in his chat list: Holly.

Darrell's Porsche eventually arrived, the window lowering to reveal his disinterested face.

"What's so critical that I had to come personally? Couldn't you just grab a taxi back? And seriously, be more respectful when speaking to Holly. Since when did you become so ill-tempered?"

His words stung, but I remained quiet.

I opened the car door myself, feeling a slight pain in my abdomen from the procedure.

Without a word, I reached for some water, but my hand stopped mid-air.

There were objects in the car that weren't mine—a strawberry-shaped hair clip, food debris, and... a woman's underwear partially hidden under the seat.

Darrell had always been proud of his cleanliness, never permitting food in his vehicle.

Yet here was clear evidence of someone else's presence.

Once, when I had menstrual cramps, I craved hot milk tea for relief, but it wasn't allowed.

Now, not only is food permitted in the car—

Even...

Rules can be bent, but only for another, never for me.

The emptiness in my stomach grew, nausea rising as my emotions plummeted.

"What's the matter now? Still pouting? Do you realize how much business I lost because of your call?"

Darrell scowled, his tone carrying a hint of criticism.

"Never mind, I won't argue with you. It's been tough for you with all these hospital trips lately. As for the baby, don't worry about it. It's not pressing."

I nodded automatically, my mind empty. I just wanted to leave the car, get away from him, and return to my quiet room.

At home, I took a long, warm shower, hoping to rinse away the heaviness in my chest, and then tried to rest.

Darrell came back at midday.

He carried a bouquet of vibrant foxtail lilies in full bloom, his features softened with affection.

Kneeling by my bed, he gently moved the hair from my face.

"Sweetheart, I saw these lilies you adore at the florist and thought of you."

I was momentarily stunned by the gesture. But before I could speak, Darrell continued.

"I've been considering Holly's situation lately. She comes from a humble background, but she's incredibly efficient at work and takes excellent care of me. I can't bear to see such potential go to waste."