Chapter 4

Simon's voice resonated with a powerful allure, conveying an unexpected closeness.

I couldn't suppress a chuckle.

A quarter of a year earlier, my most cherished musician had scheduled a performance in our city. The event's popularity was so immense that tickets vanished within moments. After a sleepless night, I finally secured two. Elated, I promptly informed Simon of my success.

His response, however, was far from enthusiastic. With a scowl and a sneer, he remarked, "Valerie, I don't expect you to lighten my load, but please don't add to it."

Before I could muster a reply, he tore the tickets in two and discarded them in the bin.

He then exited, slamming the door behind him.

I was baffled. How could a simple concert possibly "add to his load"?

It wasn't until recently, when I accidentally discovered Abigail's hidden social media profile, that the truth came to light.

As it happened, Abigail was also a fan of this singer. To fulfill her desire to meet him, Simon had gone to great lengths to arrange a private meal.

During the dinner, Simon even attempted to convince the singer to sign a long-term contract with his company's venue.

However, the negotiations failed, and they parted ways on unfriendly terms.

By coincidence, that's when I managed to obtain tickets again. And Simon, frustrated by his unsuccessful plans, directed all his anger towards me.

What he had forgotten was that the initial admirer of this singer wasn't me—it was him.

When Simon declared his feelings for me, he played one of the singer's tracks. That moment remained vivid in my memory.

Now, my eyes grew misty with unshed tears.

He fought for tickets for Abigail out of affection. For me, it was merely a fleeting sense of remorse.

How paradoxical.

Noticing my lack of response, Simon called out to me again.

I answered evenly, "Alright."

The place where it all began should also be where it concludes.

Every romance deserves its finale.

"Number 255, Valerie Lewis."

After ending the call, I heard my name being summoned from the consultation area.

The physician, absorbed in entering information into the computer, confirmed once more, "Are you certain about terminating the pregnancy? Your fallopian tubes are already obstructed, making conception challenging. After this, pregnancy may become nearly impossible."

I nodded. "Yes, I'm certain."

Shortly after, I was taken to the operating room.

The stark white lights of the OR flickered intermittently.

It felt as though something was being forcibly extracted from me, a part of my being ripped away.

Post-procedure, I hailed a taxi and departed the hospital, shaking.

The discomfort in my abdomen and the soreness in my back persisted throughout the night. I barely slept, only managing to doze off briefly at daybreak.

Simon returned home only in the afternoon of the concert day.

To shield myself from the chill, I had wrapped up warmly, my layers catching his eye.

"It's not particularly cold today. You don't need so many clothes," he observed.

I replied simply, "I'm concerned it might get chillier tonight."

Only then did he notice my pallor. A flicker of worry crossed his features.

"Are you unwell? Have you caught a cold?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine. Let's go. The performance will begin soon."

Though he gave me a skeptical look, he said nothing more.

The venue was packed, and as we presented our tickets, I nearly lost my balance. If not for Simon's quick reaction, I would have fallen.

"Thanks," I said distantly as I regained my footing.

Simon adjusted his necktie and smiled. "Valerie, when did we become so formal? Are you still upset about—"

His phone rang, interrupting him.

The moment he answered, his expression clouded. "What? I'll be there immediately."

He thrust the tickets into my hands, his urgency evident. "Valerie, an urgent matter has come up. I can't stay for the concert with you. I promise I'll make it up to you another time!"