Chapter 3

“The baby’s perfectly healthy. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” the doctor asked, looking at the ultrasound.

My hand went to my stomach without my meaning it to.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I’d been over the moon.

I thought this baby might make Damian remember he had a family to take care of.

As it turned out, I’d been naïve.

“I’m sure.” I shook my head.

A child who isn’t born into love is never going to be happy.

Right before I went into the operating room, a message came in from Damian. Just finished dinner. Want me to pick you up from work tonight?

Cold instruments moved inside me. A single tear slid from the corner of my eye—purely from the physical pain.

And in that moment, the Ivy who had loved Damian with everything she had died on that operating table.

A little after ten that night, Damian called.

I picked up.

“I’m outside your office. Are you still working late?” He sounded unusually patient.

He obviously hadn’t heard from me all day, and had come looking.

My voice was dry, but my tone was perfectly flat. “No, I left early. I’m staying at a friend’s tonight.”

“Then I’ll come over—”

“Don’t. I’m already in bed.” I hung up and turned off my phone.

The recovery room was heated, but I still felt cold.

The next day, I checked out at the nurses’ station, wrapped my coat tight around me, and walked out of the clinic.

Right at the entrance, I stopped.

A little way off, next to a Maybach, with a wheelchair waiting beside it, Damian was carefully helping Lily out of the car.

Her leg was in a cast. She was leaning half her weight against him.

Our eyes met.

“Ivy? What are you doing here?” A flash of panic crossed his face, and he started toward me without thinking.

Right then, Lily let out a little cry. “Oh!”

Her foot slipped, and she fell straight into Damian’s arms.

He turned and caught her on instinct.

“What happened? Did you bump your leg?”

Lily leaned against his chest, her eyes instantly turned red, clutching his sleeve. “Damian, it hurts…”

Damian’s face went pale. He swept her up into his arms and rushed past me toward the emergency room.

In the instant he carried her past me, Lily looked over his shoulder, straight at me.

She saw the OB-GYN discharge papers in my hand. She saw my face, white as a sheet.

And the corner of her mouth curved into a smile.

Like she was staking her claim. Or laughing at how pathetic I looked.

I stood there and watched them disappear down the hallway.

And I didn’t feel a thing.

Late that afternoon, I went back to the office, handed my resignation letter to HR, and carried a cardboard box downstairs.

The moment I walked out of the building, I saw Damian’s car at the curb. He was leaning against the door. When he saw me, he came right over.

“I came to pick you up. I was just about to text you.”

Just then, two of my coworkers came out of the building, saw Damian, and froze.

“Wait—isn’t that Damian Sinclair? The CEO of Apex Group?”

Damian opened his mouth to say something.

I cut in first. “I’m meeting with Mr. Sinclair to discuss something.”

I didn’t want anyone to know we were married.

My coworkers took the hint, said something polite, and hurried off.

Damian stared at me for a few seconds, his jaw tight.

He didn’t ask. He took the box from my hands, put it in the trunk, and opened the passenger door for me.

The air in the car was so heavy I could barely breathe.

He started the engine, drummed his fingers twice on the steering wheel, and asked carefully, “Want to grab dinner?”

I almost said no.

But I was just so tired—too tired even to have a fight in the car.

And going home meant being alone in the same apartment with him.

“Whatever.”