Chapter 3
Clutching the amniocentesis DNA report, I returned home feeling completely hollowed out.
The house was suffocatingly quiet. Without turning on a single light, I walked straight into the study and collapsed into a chair.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the shadows lengthened, I sat paralyzed against the backrest, my mind entirely blank.
I had no idea how much time had passed before the click of the front door echoing from the foyer finally broke the silence.
"Chloe? Are you home?" Liam’s voice drifted in from the living room.
Snapping back to reality, I pushed open the study door and walked out.
Liam had already shed his suit jacket. He stood at the island in our open-concept kitchen, prepping steaks for dinner. The rich, savory aroma of melting butter was already wafting through the air.
He glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of me, setting aside his tongs to walk over.
"You look terribly pale today." Liam studied my face, his tone just as warm and gentle as it had always been.
He reached out to check my forehead. "Are you just exhausted? How did your checkup at the hospital go today?"
I took a half-step back, avoiding his touch entirely.
Liam’s hand froze mid-air, a flash of surprise crossing his face.
I said nothing. I didn't tear away his hypocritical mask just yet; I wanted to see exactly how flawlessly he could play his part.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the routine ultrasound printout from earlier that morning and handed it over. It showed nothing more than a grainy black-and-white sonogram and a few healthy fetal metrics.
Liam took the paper.
As his eyes scanned the results, a bright smile broke across his face—the raw, undeniable smile of an expectant father.
He traced his finger over the image before looking back up at me. "The doctors told us how hard it would be for you, that you were at a much higher risk of miscarrying. But they also said that if we could just make it past the first four months and the baby stabilized, we'd be in the clear. Chloe, we survived the hardest part. I just knew everything was going to be fine."
I stood three feet away from him, quietly watching him practically beam with joy.
The sickening conversation I had overheard outside his office just a few hours prior echoed loudly in my mind.
He wasn't ecstatic because this child was the culmination of our love. He was thrilled for her—for Serena.
As he stared at that ultrasound, the only baby he saw was another woman's child.
A wave of violent physical nausea, compounded by staggering psychological whiplash, slammed into me all at once.
My stomach violently churned. A split second later, a horrible, agonizing cramp seized my lower abdomen.
"Chloe?" Sensing something was wrong, Liam dropped the paper and rushed toward me.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
My vision began to blur rapidly, the edges of the hardwood floor spinning out of control.
My knees buckled, and the world faded to pitch black.
When I opened my eyes again, the harsh, antiseptic stench of a hospital assaulted my senses.
I was staring up at a blindingly white ceiling. A heart monitor beeped rhythmically beside me, and an IV line dug into the back of my hand.
Turning my head, I saw Liam sitting rigidly beside the hospital bed.
"You’re finally awake." He shot up instantly, grabbing my free hand. His voice dripped with what sounded like agonizing concern. "God, you terrified me. The doctors said you collapsed from stress and low blood sugar, which triggered minor contractions."
I stared at him, my throat too bone-dry to form words.
"Chloe, you can’t keep doing this to yourself," Liam scolded gently, his tone shifting into something more serious. "You have to eat on time and stop overthinking. Your body doesn’t just belong to you anymore—you need to think about the baby. Even if it’s just for the sake of the child you're carrying, you need to eat well and keep your emotions stable. Do you understand?"
The hospital room went dead silent, save for the steady drip of the IV fluid.
I slowly pulled my hand free from his grip, locking my gaze directly onto his eyes.
"I just woke up," I whispered. My voice was raspy, entirely void of emotion. "And the only thing you care about... is this baby?"
Liam’s expression froze for a fraction of a second.
He clearly hadn't expected me to speak to him in such a detached tone. But he masked it flawlessly, reaching forward to affectionately stroke my hair with a warm chuckle.
"Where is this coming from? Are you really getting jealous of your own baby?"
He poured a glass of warm water from the bedside table, dropped a straw in, and held it to my lips.
"Of course I care about you. The day you're discharged happens to be your birthday. I promise, I'll throw you a huge birthday party. We'll invite all your friends, how does that sound?"
I turned my head away, refusing to take a sip.
Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. The door was pushed open, and my mother, Evelyn, hurried in, carrying an insulated soup thermos.
"Is Chloe awake?" Evelyn rushed to the foot of the bed, her face a perfect portrait of motherly concern.
As she set the thermos down on the nightstand, she immediately twisted the lid off. "The second I heard you collapsed, I simmered some bone broth and rushed over."
She poured out a bowl of rich, milky-white broth and handed it directly to me.
I stared at the steaming liquid, not moving a muscle to take it.
I just laid back against my pillows, staring dead-eyed at Evelyn.
The air in the room seemed to turn entirely to ice.
My face remained dangerously void of emotion, maintaining a suffocating, dead silence.
"Chloe?" Evelyn’s hand hovered awkwardly in the air, a flash of nervousness dancing in her eyes.
Liam shot me a puzzled look, sighed, and gently took the bowl from Evelyn's trembling hands, placing it on the nightstand.
"It's fine, Evelyn, just leave her be." Liam turned over his shoulder, a hint of impatience bleeding into his tone. "Pregnant women have wild mood swings. It’s normal that she doesn’t have an appetite right after waking up. She’ll drink it later when she’s hungry."
Smoothing his cuffs, Liam checked his wristwatch.
"I actually have an emergency meeting at the office anyway. I’ll just drop Evelyn off at home on my way."
Grabbing his jacket, he offered me one last practiced smile.
"Get some rest, babe. Stop letting your mind run wild. I'll come back to check on you tonight."
The door clicked shut, plunging the hospital room back into utter silence.
Sinking deep into the mattress, I slowly pressed both hands against my lower abdomen.
Liam’s calculation was terrifyingly accurate. He knew me inside out. He knew I would never have the heart to brutally abort an innocent life.
But the thought of pretending I knew nothing... of quietly birthing Liam and Serena’s sick love child, and spending the rest of my miserable life raising it? That was a torture I would absolutely never endure.
I was trapped, desperately searching for a way out.
