Chapter 2

As his speech concluded, he viciously struck the hospital bed.

The wound's pain surged through me, causing intense suffering as if my skeleton was being dismantled. I couldn't suppress a pained moan.

I was aware Reese didn't harbor affection for me, but I never anticipated such contempt from his associates.

My form seemed to be crumbling, bit by bit. I gazed into nothingness, anticipating death's approach.

Those around me were too engrossed in their activities to notice my increasingly faint and strained breathing.

Just as I was about to lose consciousness, someone shouted for assistance on my behalf.

"She's hemorrhaging severely! Her complexion is off; someone please help! Don't let her perish!"

However, instead of aid, I was met with scornful responses.

"Why is she persisting? We've already informed her that Reese is with Melissa. If she's so capable, why doesn't she contact him herself? Why put on this act for us?"

The onlookers' harsh whispers swirled around me, sharp and hurtful.

Amidst their cruel remarks, Reese was eventually summoned by his colleagues.

But what I received wasn't concern; it was two swift slaps across my face.

"Cohen, I've had enough!" His tone was icy, each word seeming to pierce my very being. "You might not value your reputation, but I still care about mine!"

"What were you thinking, orchestrating that accident? Are you frightened now? If you wish to die, go elsewhere! Don't bring your misfortune to me!"

Even now, he believed I had masterminded the crash, convinced it was a ploy for his attention.

Tears flowed down my cheeks as I frantically shook my head, trying to deny his accusations, but I couldn't speak.

The baby in my womb had gone unnaturally still. My throat, sore and raw, could only produce weak, desperate sounds. Overcome with despair, I used my last ounce of strength to point at my stomach, silently pleading with him to save us for the child's sake.

But instead of the compassion I desperately sought, Reese's hand struck my belly forcefully, his eyes blazing with anger.

"The baby is fine!" he snarled, his words cutting deep. "Melissa already told me she saw you conversing with the driver. Now that it's all exposed, you're playing the victim? I don't have time for your schemes. Melissa isn't feeling well right now."

With a final, dismissive look, he turned and stormed off.

A wave of concern rippled through the crowd.

"There's so much blood on the bed!"

"She's lost too much; the baby can't survive."

"Get her out of here! How shameless can she be? Does she think this will elicit our sympathy? Poor Reese is stuck with someone like her. What dreadful luck!"

A bitter smile tugged at my lips, more of a grimace as my awareness began to fragment, slipping further away.

As my eyes closed, memories of a night five years ago, the night of that crucial banquet, flooded back to me.

Back then, I was merely an intern, reluctantly pressured into excessive drinking by my supervisor.

When I finally grasped the danger I was in, I attempted to escape, but the grip on me was unyielding.

Dragged into a room, panic rising within me, Reese appeared, wielding a stick like a hero. He chased the man away, rescuing me from impending disaster. In that moment, he seemed like a guardian angel, and unknowingly, he secured a place deep in my heart.

The next morning, I awoke to find he had remained by my side, watching over me through the night.

Through our conversation, I learned just the essentials about him, enough to make me feel even more indebted.

Out of gratitude, I found myself increasingly drawn to him.

One day, he unexpectedly picked me up after work. For the first time, it felt as though this unreachable man might be warming up to me.

I seized the opportunity, investing everything I had into making him smile.

I prepared meals for him, baked cakes from scratch, and stayed with him during those late-night shifts.

For two months, every moment was a chance to demonstrate how much I cared.

And eventually, I won him over, the cold barriers around his heart slowly melting beneath the warmth I provided.

I genuinely believed my sincerity had touched him, that we'd navigate life's journey together, embracing the happiness we both deserved.

But instead, I found myself at the edge of despair.

Once we were together, I was always the one reaching out, the one who made the effort. His responses were infrequent, and more often than not, he declined my invitations.

I made excuses for him, convincing myself that "doctors have demanding, exhausting careers."