Chapter 3

My head reeled.

So that's why I've been failing so fast.

A wave of nausea twisted my insides. I scrambled to the bathroom, throwing up violently.

Asher dropped his phone, his fists pounding on the door. "Hailey! Is it the morning sickness?" His voice was all false urgency.

I didn't answer. My eyes were fixed on the vivid, thread-like streaks of red swirling in the water. Then I calmly flushed them away.

When I came out, I brushed away his hand as he reached to hug me.

"I'm fine."

Asher's smile stiffened. My odd behavior all evening was clearly irritating him.

Upon seeing the unopened gift box, his anger reached its peak.

He suddenly slammed his hand on the table.

"I bought it for you, why haven't you looked at it?"

Did he expect me to be grateful for a fake?

I slowly said, "I like it."

Before the words were fully out, a nosebleed gushed out without warning, and my vision began to blur.

"Asher..."

But he had already turned away, coldly muttering that an unsophisticated hick wouldn't appreciate quality. Then he grabbed his blind cane and slammed the door shut as he left.

I collapsed heavily to the floor.

Warm blood continuously spilled from my nose and lips, quickly pooling around me.

Outside the window, there was a sudden bang, bright as day.

In a haze of agonizing pain, the words "Princess Nicole" illuminated my utterly pathetic state.

My eyes glazed over as I watched.

So beautiful.

My phone vibrated madly.

My bank account balance plummeted from $40,000 to zero.

I laughed, a shaky, hysterical laugh.

Asher was punishing me in the cruelest way possible.

But he didn't know that money was always meant for him.

I had foolishly fantasized.

How touched he would be when he received this inheritance.

But in the end, all my desperate efforts were just part of a grand romantic gesture he made for someone else.

My phone suddenly rang.

I instinctively answered it.

But then, abruptly, a woman's intimate moans came from the other end.

"I love you." I heard Asher's voice. Those words he had never spoken to me.

I listened to every second. Let each sound carve into me.

But there was no pain left to feel, only a brittle, weightless calm.

Asher didn't return for the next few days.

But his "client's" Instagram did. Feed after feed of desert climbs, skydiving over canyons.

So, calluses on his hands weren't from massaging after all.

Everything that had touched me was a lie.

Nicole's hands were tightly clasped with his, his name tattooed on her chest, her eyes full of sweet devotion.

Asher only sent me a few cold, clipped voice messages.

"Do you know you were wrong yet?"

"Did you put on the necklace?"

"Send me a picture."

I knew he was waiting for me to humbly admit my fault and beg him to come home, just like before.

But I never would again.

Just then, Dr. Vance called. "What's the check-up date?"

My gaze swept over the Vance family's newly announced engagement date, and I instantly sobered.

"December 28th. Let's make it that day."

But on the morning of that day, Asher appeared at my door, looking awkward.

"Come with me somewhere."

At the charity gala, elegantly dressed people mingled, and glasses clinked.

Only we wore faded, worn-out clothes.

He seemed oblivious, gently coaxing me.

"Hailey, these are all friends from the disability assistance association. You're pregnant and it's hard work, so I applied for a donation."

Even through his dark glasses, I could see the expectation in his eyes.

He was waiting for me to react as I always had.

My eyes red, throwing myself into his arms, saying, "You're so good."

But I merely gave a faint "Mm."

Asher paused.

Nicole intimately linked her arm through mine. "Hailey, you are elegant, you're even beautiful pregnant... but your outfit is a bit shabby."

Just as I was about to pull away, Asher casually interjected, mediating.

"Hailey, the neighbors said you dress really tacky and low-class. Nicole has good taste; why don't you go change?"