Arielle's POV
"Chester, didn't you have Lorraine bring me the pills already? I've taken them..."
I tried to sit up, desperate to make myself feel better, maybe even make myself throw up.
But Chester wasn't having any of it. He shoved me back onto the bed with surprising force.
"Arielle!" His voice was sharp, almost accusing. "I'm getting married soon. As long as you behave and don't make a scene, I'll let you be the bridesmaid."
So that was the most 'kindness' he could offer me—being the bridesmaid at his wedding? That was all?
It didn't even matter that I had just gone through hell to try to erase everything between us.
I didn't want it. I didn't want any part of it.
Before I could even react, a sharp, searing pain suddenly gripped my abdomen.
It was the most intense experience I had ever had, even more painful than childbirth in a past life. It felt as though something was tearing from within me, as if my body was rejecting itself.
Then, before I could make sense of what was happening, a gush of warm blood flooded between my legs. Panic surged through me, and I instinctively grabbed Chester's hand, clutching it as if my life depended on it.
"I don't want to be the bridesmaid," I whispered, my voice shaky. "Please take me to the hospital…"
He observed the blood on the sheets, his face showing no emotion. For a brief moment, a hint of compassion shone through his features, but then his expression reverted to its typical cold, detached mask.
"Arielle, the doctor said bleeding is a normal reaction to the pill," he said, his tone eerily calm. "Just sleep it off. Come morning, everything will be like it was before."
He believed that taking the morning-after pill was equivalent to having an abortion, thinking that heavy bleeding indicated the problem was resolved. The more I bled, the more he convinced himself that the unwanted child inside me had vanished.
I saw how visibly relieved he was, how his shoulders eased.
Without so much as a glance in my direction, he pried my fingers open one by one, took my phone from the bedside table, locked the door behind him, and walked out without a single backward glance.
One door between us, and it felt like I had been transported back to my past life—once again abandoned in the bridal chamber, left to die alone, with no one to hear me.
"Chester," I whispered hoarsely to the empty room, my voice barely a breath. "We will never go back to the way things were…"
The bleeding wouldn't stop. The pain wouldn't stop. And in the distance, I could hear the sounds of celebration for Chester's upcoming wedding echoing through the house, so far away from me.
Desperate to survive, I rummaged through the drawer and found an old mobile—one I had hidden away for moments like this.
My fingers jittered as I dialed a number, with just one word slipping out in a shaky breath:
"Help me…"
And then, everything went dark.
...
Chester's POV
The following morning, I was in a cheerful mood, so I asked the housemaid to clean Arielle's room as usual.
She went to unlock the door, just as I had asked. But when she stepped inside, the door was wide open, and she was hit immediately by the sharp, heavy smell of blood.
I had no idea what was happening at first, and when I heard her scream, "Something's wrong, Mr. McKinsey! Miss Arielle... she's gone!"
