The cold glow of the phone screen lit up Chloe's face. She instinctively straightened her spine.
Even though she'd graduated—even though she was married now—the name Ervin Dudley still carried weight. Like a thesis defense title flashing on a projector screen, it made her tense up out of reflex. He was a senior she deeply respected.
"Yeah, I slept too much during the day," she typed quickly, then added a cute cat sticker.
Ervin: You're pregnant. You should be resting properly. Where's Stanley? Out drinking again?
She sent another sticker before replying: I don't think he's drinking. He said a friend needed help with something, so he went out.
What about you? Why are you still up?
About a minute passed before Ervin's next message came through.
He sent a location pin—a hotel in downtown Harborcrest.
What a coincidence. I'm here on business. Just got to the hotel.
A coincidence indeed. Everyone seemed to be converging on Harborcrest today.
While she was lost in thought, another message popped up: Get some sleep.
But Chloe couldn't sleep.
Her heart was a mess.
When Stanley left, she felt awful. If he came back, she'd feel just as troubled.
She'd already figured it out. Stanley couldn't just drag her to a hospital for an abortion. Bringing her to a couple-themed hotel tonight—he probably planned to cause a miscarriage through sex.
A cruel, underhanded move.
But knowing it was cruel didn't change how she felt. Emotions didn't listen to reason.
She would work on pulling back the feelings she'd only just started to let grow. But she wasn't there yet. Stanley still affected her.
She clenched her fist and sent Ervin a message: Is there any way, without hurting the baby, to give me some kind of virus? Something that'll make me sick for a week or two? Preferably contagious.
A second later, Ervin's video call request popped up.
The ringtone startled her so badly she nearly dropped her phone.
The moment she answered, the man on the other end was removing his glasses. Light caught the delicate chain, glinting off the bridge of his nose.
His features resembled Stanley's, but there was something entirely different about him—colder, more severe.
"Ervin..." She raised the phone to eye level instinctively, like she was holding an imperial decree.
His voice was calm, but she caught a hint of gentleness underneath. "What's going on?"
Chloe's ears burned. The words she couldn't bring herself to say rolled around in her throat several times before finally tumbling out. "It's just—it's that... Stanley wants to—to do that with me. But I'm worried it'll hurt the baby. I said no, but he won't listen. It's really hard to deal with. You're a doctor—can you help me think of something?"
Ervin's gaze froze. His expression turned grim.
Chloe bit her lip and lowered her eyes, her thoughts racing.
It was embarrassing. But she genuinely needed help.
After a long pause, Ervin spoke. "Where are you? I'm coming."
"Not far! I'm in the city center too!"
She sent him her location.
About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.
She got up to answer it. Ervin stood in the doorway—white shirt, dark slacks, handsome and refined. Mature.
She let him in awkwardly and stood in front of the cabinet displaying adult products, twisting her fingers. "Ervin."
She'd tried to block his view, but he'd already seen.
His brow furrowed. "Don't stay here tonight. Come to my hotel."
Chloe blinked. "Huh?"
His tone was firm. "Get your coat. We're leaving now."
"But—"
"Don't worry," he cut in. "I'll call Stanley later and tell him you had stomach pains. That Grandfather sent me to get you."
