Chapter 3

Chloe shrieked, covering her mouth and stumbling backward.

My heart cramped violently in that instant.

"My booties..."

I trembled all over, dragging my weak body off the bed.

Just as I reached for them in the puddle, a hand with well-defined knuckles got there first.

Derek frowned, picked up the soaked wool booties, and—without even looking—tossed them into the nearest trash bin.

"Derek! What are you doing?!"

I lunged for the trash can like a madwoman.

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

Derek grabbed my wrist and forcibly pulled me back.

Instead of being angry, he walked over and gently stroked my disheveled hair with a pitying look.

"Lina, calm down."

"You're in your postpartum period right now—your emotions are extremely volatile."

"Chloe accidentally soiled them. It's actually a good way to help you let go of this attachment."

"Be sensible—throwing them away is for your own mental health."

"I can't watch you drown in meaningless sentimentality."

I gasped for breath, staring at his perfect, flawless face.

Tears poured down uncontrollably.

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

"Lina, the embryo has already been terminated. It's just a soiled piece of yarn now."

Derek's patience remained impeccable.

"Don't be irrational."

I didn't argue one more word with him.

Right in front of him, I picked up my phone.

Yesterday at the hospital, I'd already agreed to that overseas closed-door 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 hesitation.

My e-ticket confirmation popped up on the screen.

The flight was in two days.

Derek glanced at my screen without reading the details—just assumed I was scrolling on my phone out of spite.

He patted my shoulder approvingly:

"Good, you're calming down on your own."

"I'll go get some dry towels for Chloe—her dress got splashed."

I sat on the bed, watching him walk toward Chloe, and my heart turned to ash.

On the fourth day after the surgery—the day before I was to leave—Derek went to the hospital. I was alone in the bedroom, packing all my important documents into my backpack.

The front door opened. Chloe, acting like the lady of the house, walked into my bedroom carrying a bowl of freshly made soup.

"Sister, you're packing?"

Chloe glanced at the backpack on my bed, a flicker of smugness in her eyes, then put on a sweet smile:

"Derek specifically asked me to make sure you drank this soup before he left for the hospital."

Without looking up, I said coldly: "Leave it there. You can leave now."

"Sister, are you still mad at me?"

Chloe didn't leave. Instead, she walked straight toward me with that scalding bowl of soup.

"I know you're upset that I've taken up Derek's attention."

"But this soup is Derek's gesture of care. Drink it while it's hot."

She tried to shove the bowl into my hands.

"I said get it away!"

I grimaced in disgust and pushed her wrist away.

The instant my fingers touched her sleeve—

Chloe let out an exaggerated scream.

The next second, she flipped her wrist and let go.

The entire bowl of boiling-hot soup spilled all over my already weakened legs.

I cried out in pain instinctively, my legs gave way, and I stumbled forward.

To keep from falling, I reached out blindly and grabbed Chloe's arm.

Chloe fell with me onto the wooden floor.

"What happened?!"

The door burst open. Derek, who'd come back for documents, rushed in like a madman.

I was drenched in cold sweat from the pain, both hands clutching my scalded, reddened thighs—unable to utter a single complete sentence.

"Derek... my legs..."

But Derek didn't even look down at me.

He stepped right over me as I writhed on the floor in agony.

He scooped Chloe up in his arms and frantically checked her over.

"Chloe! Did you get burned? Are you hurt? Did you break anything?!"

His voice was laced with unprecedented panic.

"Derek... I was just bringing Sister some soup out of kindness. She didn't want it, so she pushed me..."

Chloe sobbed beautifully in his arms, conveniently raising her elbow.

"I'm fine—just a little scraped skin on my elbow..."

After confirming that Chloe had only a tiny scrape, Derek let out a huge sigh of relief.

Then he turned to me—soaked in cold sweat from the pain—and his eyes were filled with deep disappointment and chill.