Alira’s POV
“Hon! You’re finally awake!” Geoffrey cried out, his voice cracking with relief.
I found myself lying in the ICU. Even the doctors were wondering why the bleeding hadn’t stopped after surgery.
With bloodshot eyes and a tight voice, Geoffrey explained everything. I had a pre-existing condition—thrombocytopenia. It meant once I started bleeding, it was almost impossible to make it stop.
“You’re safe now, hon,” he whispered, gripping my hand tightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
True to his word, he cleared his schedule and stayed by my side for days. He personally prepared every meal, three times a day. Under his care, I began to recover quickly.
The day before I was to be discharged, he was already packing my bags, sorting out the paperwork with a smile full of tenderness and hope.
Seeing how gentle he’d been, how devoted—part of me started to waver. Maybe I’d misunderstood what I thought I heard after waking up from my C-section.
I opened my mouth to ask him about it, but before I could speak, he lifted a spoon of soup to my lips.
“Come on, hon. Drink this,” he said. “I got up early to make pork rib soup for you.”
Then, as if slipping it in casually, he added, “Oh—and tomorrow, when you’re discharged, we should stop by the court. I’ve thought about it for a while… I think I’d feel more at ease if you formally adopt Drystan.”
The spoon froze in mid-air. I stared at him, stunned, then pushed the bowl away. Hard.
“Why would I adopt a child who isn’t mine?” My voice trembled. “My baby didn’t make it—and now you want to hand me someone else’s child?”
He set the bowl down and pulled me into his arms, murmuring over and over how pitiful Drystan was without a mother.
But I couldn’t do it. Not because I lacked compassion—but because I hadn’t forgotten what Elvira did to me when she was alive.
That woman had haunted every corner of my married life.
Geoffrey’s tone darkened. His patience was running out. “Elvira might’ve been a little overbearing, sure—but Drystan is innocent, Alira. Can’t you stop being so petty?”
He sighed and stood. “I’ve already made the arrangements. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow, okay? Rest up—I have to head back to the company.”
He grabbed his coat and left, the hospital room door slamming shut behind him.
Tears welled in my eyes as I reached for my arm, my fingers brushing over an old scar.
Years ago, Elvira had taken a liking to the pearl necklace Geoffrey gave me when we got engaged. It was my fiancé’s engagement gift to me—something personal—so I refused to give it to her.
But then the next day, she “accidentally” spilled scalding tea all over me. The severe burns left a permanent scar on my forearm.
In the end, it only took one nod from Geoffrey, and that necklace landed around Elvira’s neck anyway.
When I moved into that villa, she was supposed to treat me as someone who would eventually become her sister-in-law. But instead, she made my life hell.
And the worst part—my own fiancé doted on her. In that villa, it often felt like his half-sister was the real soon-to-be wife while I was just some guest.
I couldn’t stay in that villa any longer and live with Drystan—a constant reminder of her, so I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and called my older brother in Sydney.
He worked at a research institute there.
“Hey,” I said. “That research project you mentioned before… I want to apply for a transfer so I can work with you. I think I’m ready.”
“You’re sure?” he asked. “Sydney’s far. Will Geoffrey even let you go?”
I didn’t answer.
He sighed. “Alright. I’ve submitted the application already. You can fly out in seven days. I’ll come get you.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
After the call, I stared at the blank wall, one hand resting on my belly. I didn’t realize I was crying until my shoulders started shaking and the sobs tore out of me.
The next day, Geoffrey came to take me home. On the drive, he went on and on about how well he’d raise Elvira’s child—how I didn’t need to worry, how I only had to be the boy’s mother in name.
I didn’t argue. I just pulled my hand from his grasp and turned to look out the window.
At the court, the adoption process had already been arranged.
For the first time, Geoffrey placed Drystan in my arms—it was also the first time I’d seen the baby.
The resemblance wasn’t hard to tell even at first glance; the baby looked just like Geoffrey—especially the eyes and the nose. I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh and hand him back.
Geoffrey wasn’t pleased, but he said nothing. For the sake of the procedure, he forced a smile.
I, on the other hand, kept my face blank.
Looking at that baby only reminded me of the one I’d lost.
And Geoffrey never even noticed the tears I held back until the whole thing was over.
“It’s done,” I said flatly. “Now what about our baby? He deserves a proper funeral too, don’t you think?”
Geoffrey nodded and quickly arranged it. The funeral was set for the day after tomorrow.
After dropping me off, he headed back to the company—there were piles of things waiting for him.
Geoffrey’s POV
It was already dark outside when I finally stepped out of the office. The city lights flickered to life one by one.
Elvira used to wait for me at the lobby—every night, without fail. But now… I’d never see that silhouette again.
Cade must’ve sensed my mood. He dragged me out to a bar to loosen up.
One drink became two, then five. I drowned myself in the bitter burn of alcohol, hoping it would numb everything.
That’s when I saw her.
“Geoffrey,” a woman’s voice said.
In my haze, she looked just like Elvira. It had to be a dream.
“Elvira… my love…” I broke down, stumbling into her arms. “Why’d you leave me? I miss you so damn much. If you were still here, our baby wouldn’t need another mom!”
I clung to her, crying into her shoulder.
“It’s okay. I’m here now. I missed you too,” she whispered.
Completely drunk, my vision blurred, I couldn’t see her face clearly. I only remember kissing her, pulling her close, the night melting away.
It felt like the sweetest dream.
But when I woke up the next morning, naked in bed, I saw a woman lying next to me.
“Dulcie Shelby?!”
She was Alira’s best friend of ten years.
I shot up in confusion.
“Dulcie! It was you?! W-Why?!”
