Chapter 3

Summer’s POV

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

An IV needle was taped to the back of my hand. Outside, bright daylight poured through the window; I had no idea what time it was.

The first thing I did was place my hand over my lower abdomen. It was still flat. I held it there, terrified to pull away.

In that first minute of waking, the only thing I wanted to hear was: your baby is safe.

Yet sitting beside my bed was the very man who had denied me an examination yesterday.

Seeing that I was awake, Sean spoke coolly.

"Staging an act with a fire extinguisher just to get me to remarry you?" He stared at me. "Summer, your acting has gotten a lot more convincing than it used to be."

I said nothing.

"I know exactly what you're thinking." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping low. "You thought that by shielding me in public, I'd feel grateful, that my heart would soften. Let me tell you right now: even if you truly took a hit for me yesterday, I would never take you back out of pity or debt. Stop dreaming."

I couldn't even summon the energy to argue.

After three years of fighting, I was exhausted.

He genuinely believed I had intentionally thrown myself into danger yesterday just to win him back.

By his logic, if anything happened to the baby in my womb, it was simply because my cheap performance had gone wrong.

The sunlight spilled across my face. My throat burned with dry agony.

I wanted to ask which ward this was, wanted to ask how long I had been out, but the words withered on my lips.

Seeing my silence, Sean didn't get angry.

He stood up, walked over to the window, and paced back, looking like a man negotiating a business deal.

"I'll give you a chance," he said. "That old social media account of yours—the one you abandoned years ago. Dig it up. Post a long statement clearing Chloe's name. Shield her from all the nasty comments online, and restore her reputation."

"I stopped using that account years ago," I said, my voice hoarse.

"The account still exists," he replied. "Log in and write it. That's all."

"The internet is attacking her. What does that have to do with me?"

"You're my ex-wife," he said firmly. "One word from you carries more weight than ten from anyone else."

"And after I post it?"

"Once you clear things up for her, about what's between us..." He paused, his gaze fixing on my face. "I can reconsider our relationship."

I slowly turned my head to look at him.

I stared at him for a long time, so long that Sean was the first to look away.

His terms were crystal clear: speak up to defend Chloe, and he would reconsider taking me back.

Everything that had happened to me in this building over the past few days was, in his eyes, nothing more than a calculated scheme orchestrated by me.

"I clear Chloe's name," I said, my voice barely a whisper, yet every word razor-sharp. "Then what about my dead son? Who is going to speak up for him?"

Silence descended upon the ward, broken only by the steady drip of the IV tube.

Sean's expression instantly darkened.

He glared at me, his jaw clenching tight, his hands gripping his knees before slowly releasing.