Chapter 2

I looked at this man, at how naturally he took another woman's side.

Memories from sophomore year flooded back uncontrollably.

Back then, Chloe had been my inseparable best friend.

She always wore innocent makeup and clung to me with a soft, fragile air.

She'd even come to me with red-rimmed eyes, trying to catch Derek's attention.

Back then, Derek's gaze at Chloe was nothing but undisguised disgust.

Once, Chloe pretended to sprain her ankle, hoping Derek would give her a ride back to the dorm.

Derek coldly pulled me behind him:

"Drop the act. Take a cab."

Afterward, he warned me:

"Lina, stay away from Chloe."

"She's two-faced—fake as hell."

"Don't be naive enough to treat her like a sister. She'll use you one day."

I had no guard up back then; I always thought Chloe was just timid.

I kept defending her, saying Derek was too prejudiced.

But now?

"Derek..." My eyes red, I bit my pale lower lip.

"Do you remember what you said back in sophomore year?"

Derek paused, as if surprised I was bringing up the past.

But he quickly composed himself, a flicker of impatience in his eyes:

"Lina, that was years ago."

"Back then I didn't know her—I was biased."

"After more contact, I realized she's actually very fragile."

"Besides, you're her best friend. You know she has a history of severe depression."

"Why are you still holding a grudge at a time like this? Where's that generosity you used to have?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Fine. I won't hold it. Just go."

I turned my head away, closed my eyes, and tears soaked into my pillow.

I didn't have a single extra word to say to him.

Derek thought I'd given in.

He stood up, walked to the door, and gave some instructions to the medical staff outside.

Soon, a top-tier private nurse in a crisp uniform walked in.

Derek came back to the bedside, his voice unbearably tender:

"Lina, I've moved you to the most luxurious VIP ward in the hospital."

"I've also hired the most expensive private nurse in town—round-the-clock care."

"The nurse and the meals here are the best. You don't have to worry about anything."

After saying that, he glanced at his watch.

He naturally picked up his suit jacket from the chair.

"Chloe's golden retriever didn't make it last night—died from the difficult birth."

"She's locked herself in her room, not eating or drinking. She needs emergency psychological intervention."

Derek looked at me, gently tucking a stray lock of hair from my forehead.

"I'll go check on her first. I'll come back later to handle your discharge."

"And I'll bring you that seafood porridge you like from your favorite place."

"Be good. Get some rest."

I watched him turn and push open the hospital room door.

The last sliver of light from the crack was cut off entirely.

I stared at that closed door, and the last glimmer in my eyes died with it.

Last night, Derek never came.

This morning, I handled all the discharge paperwork alone and returned to our apartment.

I sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling as I opened the drawer.

I took out the pair of wool booties I'd knitted myself, and that black-and-white ultrasound photo.

I placed them carefully into a box.

These were the only traces that child had ever existed in this world.

Just as I closed the lid, the apartment door opened.

Derek walked in—and Chloe was right behind him.

Seeing me sitting on the bed, Derek showed no guilt at all:

"Lina, I didn't pick you up from the hospital yesterday because Chloe's emotional state was extremely unstable."

"She felt terrible about leaving you alone at the hospital that day, so she insisted on coming to see you today."

He paused, then added matter-of-factly:

"Besides, she's suffering from severe psychological trauma. Coming to our place and seeing a new environment might help distract her from her grief."

Listening to this, a wave of nausea rose from my stomach.

"So?"

"To distract her from her grief, you bring her in front of me—the woman who just lost her child?"

"Derek, don't you see how absurd your logic is?"

"Sister, don't blame Derek..."

Chloe timidly stepped out from behind him, her eyes red as she looked at me.

"It's all my fault. I just wanted to come apologize."

"Sister, have some hot tea—it'll warm you up."

She walked toward me carrying a steaming cup of tea.

Just as she reached the nightstand, she suddenly tripped and let out a gasp.

The teacup in her hand flew toward the box I'd just arranged.

Scalding hot tea splashed everywhere—the unlatched box tipped over, the booties fell out and soaked in the puddle, ruined.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to!"