He was holding Daisy, one hand around her waist and the other carrying her test results.
The young nurse at the reception desk smiled brightly. “Mrs. Hudson, your husband is so sweet. He comes with you every time and even warms the ultrasound gel so you won’t feel cold during the exam.”
The other pregnant women around her all looked on with envy.
My breath caught.
Instinctively, I touched my arm—the place where the needle had pierced, where eight hundred milliliters of blood had been taken from me.
That blood, once part of me, now flowed through her veins.
I turned to leave, but Brian looked up.
The moment our eyes met, his expression was as cold and blank as glass.
He strode toward me, his tone clipped with authority. “Why are you here?”
“I… I just got discharged,” I said quietly. “I didn’t mean to run into you. I’m sorry.”
“Wait.”
His brows drew together, voice dropping low.
Daisy immediately tightened her hold on his arm, smiling sweetly. “Mrs. Aurora, thank you for your donation. Without you, my baby and I might not have survived. You’re truly our savior.”
Then she turned to Brian with feigned innocence. “Darling, why don’t we give Mrs. Aurora a ride home? She needs to rest too.”
Brian lowered his eyes, a gentle smile curving his lips. “Whatever you say, my angel.”
I didn’t refuse.
Because I knew—this car ride would be the last time we ever shared the same road.
Inside the black sedan, the silence was suffocating.
Daisy leaned against Brian’s shoulder, softly laughing while scrolling through her phone.
I turned toward the window, hiding my expression.
Suddenly, she gasped. “Oh my God, what’s this?”
She pulled out a damp lace undergarment from between the seats.
The air froze instantly.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Brian… didn’t you say you got rid of everything?”
“I… must have forgotten,” he muttered, voice low, patting her back to soothe her.
I didn’t react. My face remained expressionless, eyes fixed straight ahead.
He noticed my calmness, his brow furrowing slightly.
“You’ve been staring at your phone since you got in the car,” Brian said, his tone turning cold. “Who are you texting? Grant?”
I locked my screen and replied evenly, “I was just reading the news.”
He suddenly reached over and snatched my phone.
“Password.”
“Our wedding anniversary,” I said flatly.
He tried several times. Each attempt failed.
The screen flashed: 【Locked for five minutes】.
The car fell into absolute silence.
Only Daisy’s soft sigh broke the stillness as she nestled closer into his arms.
And I, staring down at my pale fingertips, felt a strange, unfamiliar chill rising from within.
When I returned to the estate that day, the first thing I did was erase every trace of Brian.
Seven years of photos, ninety-nine love letters, and the journals we once filled together.
The yellowed pages still bore his handwriting, full of hollow promises.
I tossed them into the fireplace, one by one.
The flames devoured the memories, the ashes drifting upward like fragments of a torn wedding gown.
The scent of burning paper filled the room, thick and stifling.
When I threw the last journal into the fire, I heard the sound of the front door opening.
