Chapter 4

At 8 PM, Liam, who had been missing for seven whole hours, finally appeared. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his gaze towards me was filled with guilt.

“Chloe, I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse. “Elara... I couldn’t just stand by and watch her die. It’s my duty to save lives.”

I suppressed the bitterness, unable to stop myself from asking:

“There are so many doctors in that hospital. Couldn’t they manage without you?”

“Liam Davis, I’m not an idiot.”

After a long silence, he grasped my icy hand, his voice raspy. “Chloe Miller, in these six years, I’ve never asked you for anything. Just this once, I’m begging you, please don’t blow this out of proportion. Don’t cause Elara any negative impact, okay? I’m afraid her condition can’t handle such a blow.”

I looked at the desperate plea in his eyes, my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, constricting my breath until I could barely gasp.

He shouldn't have *begged* me; he should have *apologized* to me. Your first instinct never lies: he hadn't spared a single thought for how humiliated I was, left standing at our wedding; he hadn't worried why I ended up in the hospital. The first words out of his mouth were all about Elara Vance.

Tears fell like a broken string of pearls, hitting the white bedsheet and spreading into dark, damp spots. It took every ounce of strength I had to force out a single word: “Fine.”

He visibly deflated with relief, then added:

“Elara found out I was getting married, and her emotional state became really unstable. Let’s postpone our wedding for now.”

“I’ll stay with her for her treatment for a while, just until she’s a bit better... maybe two months, only two months, then we’ll have our wedding, okay?”

Liam’s voice was laced with a careful, hopeful tremor.

I had waited six years; another two months didn’t seem like much. But looking at the concern in his eyes for another woman, I suddenly felt like even two months was too long to wait.

The tiny life inside me seemed to sense my turmoil, stirring ever so slightly. I gently touched my lower abdomen. A five-week-old life resided there, ours, yet it suddenly felt like it had nothing to do with him.

I slowly withdrew my hand, my voice calm as stagnant water. “Liam Davis.”

“My memory isn’t perfect, but I remember when I was nineteen, you handed me that notebook in the library, so nervous you could barely string a sentence together.”

“I remember our first dinner date, your palms slick with sweat, you could barely hold your forks.”

“I remember on graduation day, you held me close and promised me a good life, promised to make me the happiest bride.”

“All these years, you remembered I hated cilantro, that my stomach gets upset easily so I need hot soup, you remembered all my little quirks... I always believed you cherished me, that I was the most precious thing in your life.”

I looked up at him, and my tears suddenly burst forth, a torrent I couldn’t stop. “But today, I can’t feel your love for me anymore...”

Six years of memories flooded my mind, a chaotic rush. Liam’s eyes were also red. His Adam’s apple bobbed. A single tear tracked a path down his cheek. “But Chloe, Elara... she can’t manage without me right now.”

That one phrase, “she can’t manage without me,” shattered the last flicker of hope within me. I looked at him, and a tearful laugh escaped me. “Then go.”

He paused, seemingly not expecting me to say that. But in the end, he said nothing, turning and leaving the hospital room.

The next day, I packed my things, ready to check out. As I reached the end of the corridor, I bumped into Liam. He didn't even *see* me. All his attention was fixated on the girl by his side. She was wearing a patient gown, her face pale, half-supported in his arms, like a frightened little bird.

So this was the woman he'd abandoned me for, on our wedding day.