Chapter 3

Chloe screamed in fright, covering her mouth and stumbling backward.

My heart seized in a violent spasm.

"My booties..."

My whole body shaking, I dragged my weakened frame off the bed and lunged for the floor, reaching for the booties in the puddle of tea.

But a hand with long, elegant fingers got there first.

Daniel, frowning, picked up the soaked baby booties by their edges.

Without a second glance, he turned and tossed them into the trash can.

"Daniel! What are you doing?"

I threw myself at the trash can like a woman possessed.

"How dare you throw away my things! Those were the baby's!"

Daniel grabbed my wrist and pulled me back by force.

Not only was he not angry—he walked over and stroked my hair, which had come loose during the struggle, with a look of tender concern.

"Emma, calm down. You're in your postpartum recovery period right now. Your emotions are extremely prone to spiraling."

"Chloe accidentally ruined them, and honestly, it's for the best. It helps you let go of this fixation."

"Be good."

"Throwing them away is for your mental health. I can't watch you drown in pointless emotions and never come back up."

I was gasping violently.

I stared into that flawless face of his, tears hammering down without end.

"Daniel, I'm a mother! That was my child!"

"Emma, the embryo has been terminated. Right now, it's just a ball of dirty yarn."

Daniel's patience remained impeccable as ever.

"Stop being unreasonable."

I didn't argue with him. Not another word.

I picked up the phone from the nightstand, right in front of his face.

Yesterday at the hospital, I had already accepted a position in an overseas, fully classified medical AI project.

Now, I opened the follow-up email the project team had just sent.

I looked at the final confidentiality agreement and signed my name without a moment's hesitation.

An electronic ticket confirmation appeared on the screen almost immediately.

The flight was in two days.

Daniel glanced at my screen but didn't make out what was on it.

He assumed I was just sulking and scrolling through my phone. He patted my shoulder approvingly.

"Good that you can settle yourself down. I'm going to find Chloe a dry towel. Her dress got splashed with tea."

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching his retreating back as he walked toward Chloe. My heart was dead ash.

The fourth day after the surgery. The day before my departure.

Daniel had gone to the hospital. I was alone in the bedroom, packing every important document from the drawers into my bag.

The front door opened, and Chloe walked into my bedroom as if she owned the place, carrying a freshly made bowl of soup.

"Emma, packing up?"

Chloe glanced at the bag on my bed, a flash of barely concealed triumph in her eyes.

Then she switched to that sweet, obedient smile.

"Daniel specifically told me before he left for the hospital to make sure you drink this soup."

I didn't look up. "Put it down and get out."

"Are you still mad at me?"

Chloe not only didn't leave—she walked straight toward me, carrying that scalding bowl of soup.

"I know you blame me for taking Daniel's attention away from you."

"But this soup is from the goodness of his heart. Drink it while it's hot."

She pushed the bowl into my hands as she spoke.

"I said get it away from me!"

I recoiled in disgust, reaching out to push her wrist away.

The instant my fingers brushed her sleeve, Chloe let out a theatrical scream.

In the next second, her wrist flipped, and she simply let go.

An entire bowl of boiling soup poured across my legs—legs already weak and ravaged from the termination.

I cried out in pain instinctively, my legs buckling, my body lurching forward out of control.

To keep myself from falling, I grabbed blindly at the air and caught Chloe's arm.

Chloe let the momentum carry her down and collapsed onto the hardwood floor alongside me.

"What happened?"

The front door burst open. Daniel, who had come back to grab some files, stormed into the bedroom like a madman.

I was drenched in cold sweat from the pain, both hands clamped over my scalded, angry-red legs.

I hurt so badly I couldn't form a complete sentence.

"Daniel... my legs..."

But Daniel didn't so much as glance down at me.

He stepped right over me—shaking and gasping on the floor—and scooped Chloe up in his arms, checking her over frantically.

"Chloe! Did you get burned anywhere? Is anything broken?"

His voice held a panic I had never heard before.

"Daniel..."

Chloe burrowed into Daniel's arms, crying prettily, and held up her elbow.

"I was just trying to be nice and bring Emma her soup. She probably didn't want it, so she pushed me..."

"I'm fine, really. Just scraped my elbow a little."

Once he confirmed Chloe had only a minor scrape, Daniel let out a breath of relief.

Then he turned to look at me—soaked through with cold sweat, barely able to breathe from the pain.

His eyes were full of deep disappointment and ice.