The private doctor rushed in and Jonathan immediately went to meet him, his shoulder bumping me, sending me staggering backwards.
I took a deep breath and turned to leave.
Outside the villa, the driver had been waiting for me for a long time
I picked up the pace, but halfway there, two iron-like hands yanked me back.
"Mr. Zander asks that you return."
The bodyguard's voice was cold, emotionless.
In the study, Jonathan was casually fastening his cufflinks.
When he saw me walk in, he tipped his chin. Someone immediately grabbed my shoulders and forced me into a medical chair that had clearly been prepared in advance.
"Wendy has anemia during her pregnancy and needs a blood transfusion."
He spoke while gesturing for the doctor to prepare, "Your blood types are the same."
I jerked my head up. "Jonathan, I've just been seriously ill … "
"Six hundred milliliters."
Jonathan interrupted me, gesturing to the doctor. "Start now."
The moment the extremely thick needle pierced my vein, I bit through my lip.
The taste of blood spread in my mouth, but it couldn't compare to the pain of my heart being torn apart.
Through the half-open door, I heard the hushed voice of the family doctor.
"Mr. Zander, Madam just experienced a miscarriage. Her hemoglobin is only 80. Drawing blood like this could lead to … "
"Spare me the nonsense." Jonathan's tone was indifferent. "Wendy can't wait."
Blood flowed along the tube into the blood bag and my vision began to blur.
In a trance, Jonathan walked before me and wiped the cold sweat from my forehead with a handkerchief, something he'd never done before.
"Scream if it hurts." His voice was surprisingly soft. "It'll be over soon. Just bear with it. This is all for our child."
I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him again.
Our child?
When the child is actually born, will he still remember who his real wife is?
As the blood bag gradually filled, Wendy's sharp scream came from the main bedroom.
Jonathan's face changed instantly. He grabbed the doctor's hand just as he was about to remove the needle. "Draw another four hundred."
"That could kill her!" the doctor shouted. "She's already showing signs of shock!"
Jonathan glanced at my pale face briefly, then returned to the bedroom. "Wendy is carrying my child. She comes first, no matter what."
The doctor tried to argue, but I interrupted him.
"Draw it," I spoke hoarsely. My voice was as light as a wisp of smoke. "Jonathan, it's settled. Once you're done, you'll let me leave."
His pupils shrank. He grabbed my chin roughly. "Daphne, are you seriously running away over something like this?"
Wendy's delicate cry came again at the opportune moment and Jonathan flung me away, rushing out without looking back.
Without his grip holding me up, I crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. The last thing I heard before blacking out was the panicked shouting of the doctor and the sound of footsteps fading away.
I woke up to the smell of disinfectant.
The hospital room was bathed in cold white light. Jonathan sat nearby, typing away on his laptop.
Noticing I'd woken, he closed it and picked up a bowl of porridge from the bedside table.
He scooped up a spoonful and held it to my lips, his movements stiff like he was just checking off a task.
I turned my head slightly. "I can feed myself."
The porridge was warm but caught in my throat, making it difficult to swallow.
Jonathan watched me struggle to swallow. His brow furrowed deeper with every bite.
Just as I reached for a fifth spoonful, he suddenly pressed down on my hand.
"The doctor said you still need more blood. Things got a bit rushed back at the villa. That's why we took so much. You can … "
"No need," I cut him off. "I'm not dying."
A blank look flashed across Jonathan's face as if he wasn't used to my rejection.
Silence stretched between us until he finally spoke again. "Your phone's been ringing nonstop."
I picked up my phone and unlocked the screen. Twenty-three missed calls and forty-seven unread messages popped up simultaneously.
Jonathan's gaze swept across the screen and his voice suddenly turned cold. "Who's looking for you so urgently?"
"A friend." I locked the screen and didn't elaborate.
Jonathan suddenly yanked off his tie and leaned in close.
"Daphne, what the hell are you doing? First, you plan to run away from home and now you're acting like you're half-dead. Do you still think you're that little princess everyone must coax?"
"If you're not born a princess, stop acting like one!"
"Go take a look outside. Which wife who can't bear children hasn't gotten divorced yet? What exactly are you so dissatisfied with?"
His breath brushed against my face.
If it had been the past, I would have cried because of his words, tearfully apologizing and saying I was sorry that I hadn't considered his feelings.
Now, I only felt a chill in my heart.
Since we already loathe the sight of each other, why continue to hold onto this marriage?
Just as I was about to speak, his phone rang.
Jonathan immediately straightened up almost reflexively and walked towards the door while answering the phone.
His deliberately lowered laughter drifted from the hallway, its tenderness grating on my ears.
The moment the hospital room door closed, my phone rang again.
As soon as I answered, an anxious voice came through. "Daphne, why did you go back again? Could it be that you still can't bear to leave him?"
