Julian Vance has a severe obsession with order and punctuality. When we got married, he set an absolute rule: If any argument lasted longer than ten minutes, he would walk away. He wouldn't waste a single extra second on it. But on our wedding anniversary, because my morning sickness was so severe, I arrived at the boarding gate exactly three minutes late. When I looked up, Julian had already ordered the flight crew to close the cabin doors. In First Class, Chloe Sterling was sitting in my seat. This was the fourth time. Whenever I was even a step behind, he gave my place to Chloe. The first time, security took two extra minutes, so he flew Chloe to the Maldives instead. The second time, my ultrasound ran five minutes long, so he took Chloe to the luxury hot springs resort I had booked for us. The third time, I was dizzy from nausea and walked downstairs ninety seconds late. His car sped off, taking Chloe away and leaving me behind. "You're always late. I can't just let the seat sit empty and go to waste." I stood alone in the desolate airport terminal when a tearing pain suddenly ripped through my abdomen. My hands shook as I dialed Julian's number. Busy signal. I dialed again. Busy signal. On the third try, it finally connected. "Chloe is getting a little airsick. I can't leave her right now. Call 911 yourself." I stared down at the glaring puddle of red pooling at my feet and let my phone drop to the floor. Julian, your perfectly scheduled life never has a single minute to wait for me. So this time, it's my turn to leave you behind forever. ... By the time the ambulance arrived, I couldn't string a complete sentence together. The paramedics cut open my blood-soaked pants and lifted me onto the stretcher. A nurse gripped my wrist. "Where is your family? How many weeks pregnant are you? Any underlying conditions?" "Eleven weeks. My family is on a plane." "What's the father's name? Can you contact him?" I closed my eyes. "Don't bother contacting him. He can't leave right now." My phone rang again. Julian's name flashed on the screen. I stared at it for two seconds before answering. "Serena, did you actually call an ambulance?" His voice was hushed. In the background, I could hear Chloe's weak, delicate voice asking, "Julian, did something happen to Serena? Should we turn the plane around? I can just endure the nausea." Julian's tone was flat. "She's an expert at blowing minor things out of proportion. Just lie back down." Then, to me, he asked: "The airport clinic could have easily handled whatever is wrong. Why did you have to call an ambulance? We've already taken off. We aren't turning around for you." My abdomen cramped violently again. I bit my lip, waiting for the wave of agony to pass. "The doctor said... I'm at risk of a miscarriage." The line went dead silent for two seconds. "Are you seriously using the baby to threaten me again?" "Serena, you were the one who was late. If I scramble my schedule every single time you mess up, everyone will think my time is worthless." In the past, terrified of inconveniencing him, I would have desperately tried to explain that it wasn't on purpose, that my stomach really hurt. But now, watching the nurse continuously swap out blood-soaked gauze... I suddenly lost the strength to speak. Chloe's sickly-sweet voice drifted through the receiver: "Julian, don't be mad. Pregnant women are just emotionally sensitive. She probably just wants you to coax her a bit." Julian's voice grew even colder. "I don't have the time to entertain these jealous tantrums." "If you get admitted, keep the receipts. I'll reimburse you when I get back. Don't call me again. Chloe is airsick and needs to rest." He hung up. I checked the time. Exactly ten minutes. The nurse looked at me, hesitating, wanting to say something but holding back. I pressed the phone screen into my palm. "Could you put it on silent for me, please?" By the time the examinations were over, it was dark outside. The doctor laid the report in front of me. "Threatened miscarriage, with bleeding at the edge of the placenta. You are on strict bed rest. No traveling, no stress." "Can you save the baby?" "There's still a heartbeat, but there are no guarantees. Can your family come tonight?" I shook my head. The doctor frowned. "It's highly inadvisable for you to be alone right now. If there's heavy bleeding, press the call button immediately." Just then, the hospital room door was pushed open. Julian's assistant walked in, dragging Julian's suitcase. He pulled out a cashmere shawl. "Miss Sterling left this at the airport. Mr. Vance is worried it might be chilly on the flight back. He said since you're close to the airport, you should wash it and drop it off at the dry cleaners." The doctor's face darkened. "She almost just had a miscarriage, and you're telling her to run errands?!" The assistant looked embarrassed. "Mr. Vance said Mrs. Vance is used to handling these things. And it has to be delivered before 9 AM tomorrow. Miss Sterling needs it for the return flight." Right then, the assistant's phone rang. Julian's voice came through the speakerphone. "Did you drop it off?" "Yes, sir. But the doctor said Mrs. Vance is on strict bed rest." "Then she can order a courier. Serena, don't drag your feet on purpose. Chloe needs that shawl." I handed the shawl back to the assistant. "Take it. I have no obligation to babysit her things." Julian's tone was indifferent. "What are you throwing a fit about now? It's just a shawl." I touched my lower abdomen, which was still throbbing with dull pain. My voice was so soft I could barely hear it myself. "You're right. So it doesn't matter if it gets thrown away." As the assistant reached for the shawl, a prenatal record book slipped out of the suitcase and hit the floor. The name printed on the cover was Chloe Sterling. And right at the bottom, printed clearly, was: 8 Weeks Pregnant. "Chloe is pregnant?" I flipped open the record book. A sonogram was tucked inside. The assistant's face turned pale. He reached out frantically to grab it back. "Ma'am, this is Miss Sterling's private medical information!" "Why is her private medical information in my husband's suitcase?" "Mr. Vance just accompanied her to the appointment." The phone was still connected. Julian spoke, his voice icy: "Chloe hasn't been feeling well lately, so I took her to the hospital to get checked out. She isn't married, and she didn't want anyone to know. Don't go running your mouth." I stared at the date on the sonogram. It was the exact same day as my very first prenatal appointment. That day, Julian had promised to go with me. But when we arrived at the hospital entrance, he told me Chloe's car had broken down and told me to go in alone. I waited in line for four hours. When I finally came out with my scan, his phone was turned off. It turned out that in the exact same hospital, he had been walking another woman through all her appointments. I asked: "Whose baby is it?" "That is none of your business." "You are my husband." Julian's patience snapped. "That's exactly why I'm telling you to stop interrogating me." "Serena, you already have a child. There is absolutely no need to harbor so much hostility toward a girl who has no one else to rely on." "I simply asked whose baby it is." Chloe, sounding as if she had just woken up, spoke in a tiny voice: "Serena, please don't misunderstand! There is absolutely nothing going on between Julian and me. I just didn't want my family to find out, so he's keeping it a secret for me." "So where is the father?" She fell silent for a moment, then suddenly started sobbing softly. Julian immediately lowered his voice to comfort her. "It's okay. If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to." When he spoke to me again, his tone was nothing but pure irritation. "Are you done interrogating her? She's pregnant. She can't handle this kind of stress." I looked at my own diagnosis report sitting by the bed. We were both carrying a child. When Chloe frowned, he was terrified she was stressed. When I lay bleeding in a hospital bed, he only remembered to order me to wash her shawl. "Julian. I can't handle stress either." "You're perfectly fine, aren't you?" The second the words left his mouth, both ends of the line went dead silent. I didn't argue anymore. For the very first time, I was the one who hung up. It was the afternoon of the next day before Julian finally returned. He didn't come to the hospital first. He took Chloe home to rest. It wasn't until 7 PM that he pushed open my door, carrying a takeout container of porridge. "Chloe said you probably didn't have much of an appetite, so she asked me to bring this for you." I glanced at the packaging. It was Chloe's favorite seafood porridge. And I am deathly allergic to shrimp. "Put it down." He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning my pale face. "What did the doctor say?" "Bed rest to save the pregnancy." "Tomorrow night is the Vance family banquet. We were originally going to announce your pregnancy. Since you aren't physically up to it, Chloe will attend in your place." I stared at him. "She's going to act as Mrs. Vance for me?" Julian tucked the blanket around me, his tone unusually gentle. "She's just taking your seat. Focus on recovering. Don't be so petty over something this trivial." The next second, he pulled an authorization form out of his briefcase. "Sign this. Tomorrow night is the official announcement for the AeroLounge project. Since you can't be there, we'll temporarily list Chloe as the Chief Designer. We'll change it back after the press conference." My fingers dug into the paper. AeroLounge was my late mother's unfinished manuscript. It was a project I had poured two entire years of my life into completing. "Why can't you just announce my name?" "Your absence at the press conference will shake investor confidence. Chloe has a great image, and she can actually be there. She's a better fit right now." "That is my design." "I know." He pressed a fountain pen into my hand, his thumb gently resting against the back of my hand. "We're just borrowing her name. Don't be unreasonable." I pulled my hand away. "I won't sign." The gentleness vanished from Julian's face. "Serena, the company isn't a playground for your tantrums." "You already disrupted the flight schedule because you were late. Chloe is willing to step up and clean up the mess, and you're still throwing a fit?" He smoothed out the authorization form on the table. "Have it signed by 9 PM. My assistant will come pick it up." I watched his back as he turned away. "What if I don't sign it?" Julian paused at the door. "All the R&D files for AeroLounge belong to Vance Corp. If you don't sign, I still have the absolute authority to decide who presents it." He knew exactly how much blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into this project. I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms, and finally said the words: "Let's get a divorce." Julian's footsteps halted. When he looked back, his eyes were full of mockery. "Serena, there's a limit to how far you can push a jealous tantrum. Don't start a fire you can't put out." His tone was full of absolute certainty. Just like every other argument we'd ever had, he was certain I could never actually leave him. But this time... I was truly, utterly exhausted. As soon as the door clicked shut, the nurse walked in holding a lab report. "Family of Serena Vance? Her vitals are dropping again. She needs 24-hour supervision." Julian glanced at his watch. "I promised Chloe I'd have dinner with her at eight. I can't be late." I looked at him. For the very last time, my voice trembling: "So she's more important than I am." "We aren't doing anything dirty, if that's what your twisted mind is thinking." The last shred of patience disappeared from Julian's face. His voice was freezing cold. "Chloe is punctual, graceful, and knows how to prioritize the big picture. If her father hadn't traded his life to save mine, she wouldn't be all alone in the world." "When are you finally going to grow up and be as understanding as she is?" With that, he sidestepped the nurse and strode out the door. I had heard that speech so many times. Chloe's father was a pilot for the Vance family. Ten years ago, during a catastrophic mechanical failure, he suffered fatal injuries to protect Julian. Since then, Julian made it his personal mission to take care of Chloe. If she wanted the passenger seat, he made me get out of the car. If she needed a flight, he left me stranded at the airport. If she wanted my position, he would tell me it was just compensation for what she'd lost. There was a time when I truly tried to understand him. But understanding someone shouldn't be a free pass for them to trample all over me over and over again. Half an hour later, the nurse came in to process my room transfer. As I was wheeled from my private suite into a cramped, six-bed ward, the Vance Corp project launch was broadcasting live on the TV. Chloe was wearing my custom gown, standing proudly in front of the cabin model I had designed. The host smiled and asked, "Miss Sterling, I hear this is a gift you designed for your unborn child?" Chloe gently rested a hand on her stomach, smiling shyly. "You could say that. Julian helped me revise it so many times. He said our child deserves the safest skies in the world." The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Someone shouted out, asking if wedding bells were in their future. Julian didn't deny it. He simply adjusted the microphone for Chloe and said calmly, "The fact that she's standing here today is the best answer I can give." Thunderous applause echoed through the screen. The other patients in the ward turned to look at me. "Isn't that your husband?" "That girl next to him must be his real wife. She's even pregnant." I reached for the remote to turn the TV off, but my hands were shaking so badly I missed the button three times. The older woman in the bed next to me reached over and turned it off for me. She whispered, "Don't watch it, sweetheart." My phone buzzed with a message from Julian. "The launch was a huge success. If you just cooperate, things don't have to be this ugly." Attached was a digital copy of the authorization form. My signature was already perfectly forged in the signature box. I called him immediately. "Who forged my signature? This is illegal." "The process can't stop just because of you. Chloe signed on your behalf. Once you calm down, I'll have legal draft the official paperwork." My abdomen tightened painfully. "Stop the press conference. Issue a public correction right now." "Do you have any idea how much Vance Corp would lose if I stopped it now?" "That was my mother's dying work!" "Which is exactly why I'm maximizing its value for you." He paused, softening his tone slightly. "Stop throwing a tantrum. I'll come see you tonight. Text my assistant whatever you want to eat." My chest ached hollowly. He always did this. He actually believed that throwing me a few pathetic crumbs of affection could magically erase every brutal indignity he put me through. Suddenly, Chloe gasped over the phone. "Julian! I think I just felt the baby kick!" Julian's voice was instantly filled with urgent panic. "You're only eight weeks, the baby shouldn't be kicking yet. Are you in pain? I'm taking you to the hospital right now." He didn't even bother hanging up. I listened to his frantic, hurried footsteps fading away, then placed my phone on the nightstand. A nurse rushed in holding a chart. "Serena, your contractions are escalating rapidly. Call your family to sign the surgical consent form immediately." Through the phone, I heard a car door slam shut. Julian murmured something comforting to Chloe. And then, the line went dead. I stared at the black screen. My voice was dead calm. "Change the procedure. Prep me for an abortion." "If we can't reach a family member, the patient will have to sign for herself." The attending physician handed me the consent form. "The hemorrhaging is worsening. We will do absolutely everything to protect the mother, but we have to prepare you for the worst-case scenario." I was in so much agony I couldn't even grip the pen. The nurse steadied my wrist. "Do you have any other relatives you can call?" My parents passed away years ago, and after getting married, I quit my design studio. The number of people in my life had dwindled down to almost zero. I scrolled desperately through my contacts and finally dialed Ethan Hayes. He was the very first investor in the AeroLounge project—and the man Julian had aggressively pushed out of the team three years ago. He picked up on the first ring. "Serena?" "Ethan... could you please come to the hospital?" He didn't even ask why. "Send me the address. I'll be there in twenty minutes." By the time Ethan arrived, I had already been wheeled into the critical observation room. He asked from the other side of the privacy curtain, "Where the hell is Julian?" "At an ultrasound appointment with Chloe." "You're pregnant too, and he just left you here alone?!" The doctor pulled the curtain back. "Family member, please do not agitate the patient. We desperately need a specific imported coagulant. The hospital pharmacy is out, but there are two vials left at a nearby branch. We need someone to go get them immediately." Ethan grabbed the slip of paper and sprinted out the door. Lying in the bed, I heard the nurse making one final attempt to call Julian. "Mr. Vance, your wife's condition is critical. Please come to the hospital immediately." "I'm already at the hospital." The nurse paused. "Which department are you in?" "Obstetrics, third floor." "Mrs. Vance is in the fifth-floor emergency observation ward." There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. Chloe's tearful voice filtered through. "Julian, you have to go. I can wait for the ultrasound alone. Even though the doctor said I almost fell earlier and it might affect the baby... Serena is more important right now." Julian immediately snapped, "Don't move." Then, to the nurse: "Just follow your standard protocols. Send whatever paperwork needs signing to my phone. I'll authorize it remotely." "Mr. Vance, some situations require face-to-face communication." "I'll be there before 10 PM." "She might not make it to 10 PM." Julian's voice turned incredibly cold. "Is this how your hospital operates? Fear-mongering? She had enough energy to scream at me over a project this morning, and now she's suddenly 'critical'? That's a little too convenient." The nurse was so furious she slammed the phone down. At 8:40 PM, the hemorrhaging suddenly intensified. After a rapid examination, the doctor's face drained of color. "Fetal heart rate is dropping. We're operating right now." As I was being wheeled toward the operating room, Ethan still hadn't returned. My phone slid off the corner of the blanket, the screen lighting up. Julian had sent me an itinerary. [9:00 AM - Chloe's ultrasound.] [9:30 AM - Drive her home.] [10:00 AM - Arrive at your room.] [Stop rushing me. No one is going to ruin my schedule just because you're throwing a tantrum.] I stared at that final sentence, reached out, and pressed the power button, plunging the screen into darkness. Right before the anesthesia was administered, the doctor asked me: "One final confirmation. Has a family member been notified of the abortion procedure?" I signed my name. "Confirmed." As the surgical lights glared down on me, I remembered the day I found out I was pregnant. Julian had done the unthinkable—he postponed a board meeting to take me to buy a tiny, silver airplane charm. He said when the baby was born, we'd hang it over the crib. That memory was the only reason I had hesitated so much over the past few months. He had, at the very least, looked forward to this child. I thought that even if he was a terrible husband, he would slowly learn how to be a father. As the anesthesia flooded my veins, I heard the nurse answer the phone outside the OR doors. "Did you get the imported coagulant?" "No. The branch hospital said Mr. Vance's assistant requisitioned the last two vials ten minutes ago. The stated purpose was 'preventative care' for Chloe Sterling." The doctor violently ripped the OR doors open. "Who authorized that transfer?!" "Mr. Vance stated that Miss Sterling is the lead on a critical corporate project and cannot be exposed to any medical risks." My fingers curled into fists. So it wasn't that he didn't know about those two vials of medication. It was just that, forced to choose between me and Chloe again... he chose her. At exactly 10:00 PM, familiar footsteps echoed outside the operating room. Julian's voice rang out: "Is Serena still throwing her tantrum?" The nurse looked up at him. "Mr. Vance. At 9:17 PM, the fetal heartbeat stopped."
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