July was brutal, the heat heavy and suffocating.
But Lucy Rosario felt nothing but cold as she stepped out of the hospital, her slim fingers clutching a crumpled medical report. She stared at the sky, dazed for a moment, then headed toward the open-air parking lot and got into her Porsche.
The moment the AC kicked on, a blast of icy air hit her face. But all she could hear in her mind was the doctor’s voice replaying over and over:
“Miss Rosario, we recommend scheduling the surgery as soon as possible—there might still be a slim chance.”
“We’re sorry, but this baby… it’s not going to make it.”
“…”
Even with the AC just on, Lucy felt like her whole body was freezing. She fumbled in her bag for the car key, her hands shaking so bad it took several tries before she managed to slot it in.
She started the car and tapped the phone on the dashboard to make a call. She didn’t even have to look—she could dial that number with her eyes closed.
It rang briefly before being picked up.
“What is it?” Ethan Carter’s voice came through, cold and distant as usual. This time, though, Lucy picked up on the irritation he didn’t bother hiding. Her nose stung with the threat of tears.
He hadn’t been home in over twenty days. And now, even answering her call sounded like a chore to him?
Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep her voice steady. “Honey, are you coming home for dinner tonight?”
“I’ve got a dinner with some investors.”
Another rejection.
Over the past few weeks, no matter how much she missed him, every call, every message got brushed off with some “work is crazy right now” excuse. Was he really that busy? Or just done with dealing with her?
Her throat burned.
She looked down at her fingers. The engagement ring sparkled—huge and dazzling—but her fingers were too thin. She’d had to glue the ring on to keep it from slipping off.
Ethan picked it when they got married. Said she deserved only the best.
“Come back tonight, please.” She couldn’t help but press a little more. Today was their third wedding anniversary, and she was pregnant—both things she was hoping to tell him. Her voice tightened. “I…”
“Ethan, am I interrupting you?”
A soft female voice suddenly filtered through the line. Gentle and familiar. That “Ethan” came out way too intimate.
Lucy’s blood ran cold.
She nearly hit the car in front.
Did Ethan get a new assistant?Lucy Rosario zoned out for a moment before she finally heard Ethan Carter’s indifferent voice coming through the phone. "Have dinner by yourself. I’ll come back when I’m done, if I can." Then he just hung up.
She stared at the now-black screen, tears slipping silently down her cheeks as she drove slowly. Her face was calm, but deep down, everything was falling apart. She wasn’t clueless—of course she knew Ethan was seeing someone else.
From the days when she secretly liked him, to finally marrying him, it had been six years. Four years of steady love before things started to shift a month ago—he began staying out late almost every night.
At first, Lucy didn’t think much of it. She was also busy at the time, juggling meetings and chasing investors for a new product at work. But one day, when she was tidying up his suit, she noticed a strand of perfume-scented hair. That was the first crack.
She wanted to ignore it, convinced herself the woman was just a business client. But then there were lipsticks stains on his shirts, perfume smells clinging to his jackets—one red flag after another that made her heart sink.
They’d only been married three years. Just three years into their marriage, and yet it already felt like the end was creeping in.
She drove back in a daze to Xincheng Garden.
This was their newlywed home—a spacious three-hundred-square-meter villa Ethan had dropped over a hundred million on just to give her “the best.” They’d lived here for three years. But for the past month, the man of the house barely came back.
“Ma’am, you’re home?” Mrs. Jordan greeted her at the door with a warm smile. “Dinner’s ready, and the cake you ordered is on its way. Are you okay? You don’t look too well.”
Lucy quickly forced a smile, brushing off her pale face. “I’m fine. Just not feeling great today. Could you make me some porridge instead?”
Her stomach was killing her, sharp pains twisting through her abdomen. She looked like she could barely stand, but she still smiled like it was nothing. She didn’t have the appetite for anything, but she knew she had to eat—if only to keep going for just a little longer, even if the baby couldn’t be saved.
Mrs. Jordan nodded and headed into the kitchen.
Lucy hurried upstairs and rushed into the bathroom the second she walked in. She collapsed over the sink, gagging, but nothing came out. Just dry heaves and coughs, until specks of blood spotted the porcelain sink.
