Chapter 4

Evelyn Reed POV

After being rushed to the hospital, I was immediately pushed into the emergency room. Doctors quickly began resuscitation and hemorrhage control. Cold examination instruments probed my body, each touch pulling at the searing pain.

I bit my lip, feeling the dull ache of life draining from within me. As a doctor, I'd seen countless deaths, but when the knife cut into my own flesh, that tearing sensation almost ripped me apart.

After a long and grueling rescue, the devastating news finally came: the baby couldn't be saved.

Half an hour later, supported by a colleague, I walked out of the emergency treatment room, my face pale.

I refused my colleague's help and went home alone.

The empty mansion was cold as an icebox. I swallowed two painkillers, forced myself to drag a suitcase from the storage room.

I packed up all the jewelry and custom-made dresses Nate had bought me, contacted a luxury consignment shop, and sold them off that very night.

Looking at the suddenly empty walk-in closet, I felt like I could breathe easier.

At ten o'clock that night, Nate returned.

He brought in the cold air with him, holding a cake from my favorite restaurant.

"Evelyn, I'm home. The meeting ran late today; you must be starving, right?" He changed his shoes, intending to embrace me.

I turned away, my gaze falling on the faint smudge of lipstick on his shirt collar.

"I'm not hungry." My voice was flat, without a hint of emotion.

Nate paused, seemingly noticing my coolness. He put down the cake, walked over, and forcibly took my hand, his brows furrowed: "Why are your hands so cold? And you look so pale. Are you sick?"

"No," I pulled my hand away, "Just a little tired."

Nate sighed, his eyes full of helpless affection: "Are you still mad at me for not making it back for Caleb's funeral? Evelyn, don't be difficult. The dead can't be brought back. You still have me. It's the weekend tomorrow, I'll take you out to clear your head, okay?"

He was always like this, using the gentlest tone to say the cruelest things.

Caleb was dead, and in his mouth, it was just "the dead can't be brought back."

I looked at his handsome face, suddenly feeling utterly estranged.

"Nate," I called his name, "Tomorrow night, the department has a get-together. I won't be home."

A flicker of guilt crossed Nate's eyes, but he quickly concealed it: "Okay, don't drink too much, and come home early."

He especially wanted me not to be home, so he could go be with Sophia.

The next evening, I didn't go to the department dinner. I put on elegant makeup to conceal my post-miscarriage pallor and went to a Michelin-starred restaurant.

This was the address Nate's assistant had inadvertently revealed over the phone.

I pushed open the slightly ajar private room door and, through the gap, coldly watched the scene inside.

Nate had taken off his suit jacket and was patiently peeling a shrimp. He dipped the peeled shrimp into a sauce and naturally fed it to the woman beside him.

Sophia, in a white knit sweater, looked pale, exuding a sickly fragility. She took the shrimp from Nate's hand, her eyes slightly red: "Nate, am I just a burden? I'm divorced, and now I'm sick. I can only come back to you..."

"Don't talk nonsense." Nate's voice was dripping with tenderness, laced with undisguised heartache. "Your return makes me happier than anyone. I'll find a way to treat your illness. New York has the best urology specialists; I'll make sure she cures you."

"But you're married," Sophia bit her lip, tears threatening to fall, "Won't Evelyn be angry if she knows about me?"

Nate scoffed, his tone chillingly indifferent: "She doesn't need to know. She's just a doctor. She took my money, so she should do her job well. Once your illness is cured, I'll give her a sum of money and send her away."

Outside the door, I clutched the doorknob, my nails almost digging into my flesh.

Though I had long guessed the truth, hearing him say those words shattered my heart like a sledgehammer, making every breath taste of blood.

"Give her money and send her away?" I silently repeated the phrase to myself.

Nate, you think you control everything, but you don't know, I stopped wanting you a long time ago.

I didn't storm in to confront him. I took out my phone and snapped a photo of their intimate backs in the private room.

Then, I turned and walked into the night.

Soon. Just twenty more days, and I would leave him.

Then, I would give him a big surprise.