"Pretending again," Bryce sneered contemptuously, looking down at Leonora as she lay helpless on the floor. "Leonora, you're faking a faint because you feel guilty, aren't you? Don't forget we're in a hospital. The doctor will expose you the second he examines you."
Easton scooped Leonora up in his arms. She felt disturbingly light, as if she had no weight to her at all.
An uneasy feeling stirred in his chest. He had rarely seen her recently and hadn't realized she had lost so much weight.
"I'll go get a doctor," Bryce said, determined to strip away her act as he strode toward the door.
At that moment, a nurse pushed the door open.
Knowing that Leonora had suffered a miscarriage and had no family by her side, the nurse had come to check on her dressing. Seeing that the IV bottle had just run dry and taking in the scene-Leonora unconscious and blood dripping from the back of her hand-the nurse's expression instantly changed. She immediately pressed the emergency call button.
"Doctor. The patient in room 29 is unconscious and needs immediate emergency care."
Urgent, heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. A doctor and several nurses rushed into the room.
After a rapid assessment, the medical team hurriedly wheeled Leonora straight to the emergency room.
Standing outside the closed doors, Easton felt his heart skip a beat before hammering unnaturally against his ribs.
Bryce's nonchalant voice sounded beside him: "Nurse, she's just faking it. There's no need to make such a big scene."
The nurse turned, her eyes snapping with anger. "Do you think you know better than the medical team whether a patient is unconscious or not?"
Recalling Leonora's deathly pale face, Easton demanded, "What happened to her?"
"A miscarriage." The nurse dropped the words sharply and hurried into the treatment room.
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the corridor.
Susannah murmured in disbelief, "How could... how could my sister have a miscarriage?"
Easton stood frozen in place, recalling Leonora's desperate, violent reaction right after Bryce had spoken those vile words.
What on earth had happened to her?
Reaching for his phone, he dispatched a crisp message to Assistant Vaughn, instructing him to investigate every detail of what had transpired that night.
Bryce muttered under his breath, "How could she miscarry just like that? She didn't do it on purpose, did she?"
Easton's head snapped up, his gaze locking onto Bryce with a lethal chill.
Bryce froze under the intense pressure and tried to stammer out an explanation: "I... I just thought something seemed off..."
Susannah tugged gently at Bryce's arm, whispering nervously, "Bryce, please stop talking."
Easton's countenance was stern, his tall figure emanating an oppressive aura. "She is my wife. If you continue to speak without restraint, don't blame me for taking action."
Bryce pursed his lips, not daring to utter another word.
Nearly an hour later, the doctor stabilized Leonora's condition and wheeled her out of the emergency room.
The nurse called out, "Who is the patient's family?"
Easton stepped forward. "I am her husband."
The nurse cast a disdainful look at him. "The patient has just suffered a miscarriage and needs absolute quiet to rest. It is best not to crowd the ward."
...
When Leonora woke up again, she was lying in a luxury suite at the private hospital owned by the Frye Group.
She knew without asking that this was Easton's arrangement.
"Does it still hurt?" Easton asked in a low voice, devoid of the cold detachment he had shown the night before.
Leonora looked up at him, but her heart remained completely numb. She turned her head slightly to face the window, trying to suppress the emotional turmoil rising within her.
Easton's voice resonated with deep guilt. "Leonora, I'm sorry about last night. If I had known what you were going through, I..."
He would have sent someone to fetch her.
"Easton, the three-year term is almost up," Leonora said softly, her face still turned toward the window, her expression entirely unreadable.
Easton stared at her, his dark shirt casting a gloomy shadow over his features.
Leonora slowly turned to look at him and said calmly, "Our agreement still has three months left, and the mandatory divorce cooling-off period takes one month."
When they married, both had been reluctant, leading them to draft a three-year prenuptial agreement: if no genuine feelings developed between them after three years, they would quietly divorce.
Bringing up the three-year mark now was her explicit demand for a divorce.
"We will have other children in the future. You need to be strong," Easton said, pursing his lips and lowering his head slightly. He too felt the grief of losing a child, but to him, it was ultimately an unfortunate accident.
"I will have children in the future, but you will definitely not be their father," Leonora stated, blurting out her innermost thought without hesitation.
"Easton, Susannah is back. If you want to marry her... I am more than happy to step aside."
"There is nothing inappropriate between Susannah and me," Easton replied, the subtle softness on his face flattening into composure once again.
Leonora had no desire to debate the issue.
Even if Easton and Susannah hadn't crossed physical boundaries, she could no longer stomach watching her husband constantly cater to another woman.
Even after losing their child, he remained remarkably composed.
Perhaps if a man didn't carry a child within his own body, he could never feel that profound bond of blood-and consequently, could never comprehend the agonizing pain of having that life torn away.
That was why men could so casually utter cruel phrases like "we will have other children in the future."
"I didn't say you crossed the line," Leonora said weakly. "It's simply that Susannah is the woman you love. Now that she's back, you can finally be together."
She had thought it through completely. If her husband wanted to cherish another woman as his wife, she was willing to grant him his freedom.
"I told you, Susannah and I are completely innocent," Easton said, a flash of irritation passing through his dark eyes. He paused before adding, "I know you're heartbroken over losing the baby so suddenly, but that has nothing to do with Susannah."
Leonora let out a bitter, silent laugh, her eyes gradually reddening. An unbearable tightness seized her chest.
"Easton..."
"I was a pregnant woman, you know," Leonora interrupted him, her eyes sharp with cold irony. "You were so afraid I would ruin your night that you refused to take my calls and even muted your phone."
She laid out his actions word for word. It was a calculated guess, but it struck right at the truth.
She hadn't intended to bring it up, but Easton kept insisting on Susannah's innocence over and over again, and she was thoroughly sick of hearing it.
Easton fell silent, his lips pressed into a tight line. Her guess was dead accurate. When he saw her caller ID flashing that night, he had assumed she was calling to throw a tantrum, so he had turned his phone to silent.
Deep down, a sharp pang of regret finally cut through his composure.
"What's done is done. What is the point of dwelling on it now?" Easton said, avoiding the argument. Standing up, he added, "Get some rest. I have some matters to attend to."
The ward door closed behind him, leaving the room in absolute silence.
A faint, hollow smile touched Leonora's lips as tears silently spilled from her eyes.
Shortly after, a courier delivered a brand-new phone-her previous one had been destroyed in the storm-complete with a replacement SIM card.
The moment she powered it on, notification after notification flooded the screen-messages of concern mixed with demanding inquiries. Leonora set the device aside without replying to a single one.
She slept through most of the day, feeling slightly more physically stable by the time she woke up.
At six o'clock in the evening, her phone rang. It was her close friend, Antonia Morley.
She swiped to answer. "Antonia."
Antonia's voice came through, laced with concern: "Leonora, why didn't you attend the fragrance gala tonight?"
Leonora sat up in bed, a sharp ache shooting through her body.
After a brief silence, taking in her current state, she let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Something came up. I can't make it."
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
Then Antonia spoke again, her tone dropping: "Your husband is here with Susannah right by his side. They are arm in arm, looking extremely intimate. And the dress Susannah is wearing... Never mind, I'm taking a photo and sending it to you right now."
