The online storm died down the moment Damian’s name lit up my phone. He called almost immediately.
“Emilia, don’t read too much into what my friends say,” he said quickly, his voice threaded with irritation. “They were just teasing Adriana and me. Your comment made everyone awkward. And honestly, Mom is already disappointed in you enough. You embarrassed her.”
I stayed silent, gripping the phone tighter.
“She wanted us to attend the royal charity gala together,” he continued. “You disappeared last minute. And yes, I missed our anniversary dinner—but unlike you, I actually have responsibilities. You can’t throw dramatic fits every time you’re unhappy.”
My quiet response unsettled him.
“When you come home, we’ll talk. But you need to apologize to my mother first.”
“Alright.” My throat burned as the word barely escaped. The man responsible for the death of my child was instructing me to beg for forgiveness.
“Emilia… why aren’t you asking how I’m doing?”
“There’s nothing left to ask. I already know everything.” I ended the call before he could reply, collapsing into sobs that tore through my chest until I could barely breathe.
My parents had warned me about Damian from the beginning. They opposed us fiercely—until they saw how completely I had given my heart to him. They finally relented. And yet, everything they feared still came true.
I took a taxi back alone. By the time Damian stumbled into the penthouse, the sky was already stained with dawn. The soft shuffle of his footsteps woke me. When he noticed I was still awake, he froze, scrambling for excuses.
Afraid I’d scold him for staying out late again, he flipped the question on me. “Why weren’t you home for three days?”
I turned my back to him without answering.
“So now you’re sulking?” he softened slightly. “No sobering soup tonight?”
“I’m exhausted.” The chill in my voice startled him. After a deep sigh, he pulled the duvet higher around my shoulders.
“You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t overwork yourself. This baby will inherit everything someday.”
When he sat beside me, the scent of a sweet, unfamiliar perfume filled the air. My stomach twisted.
I stood up quietly, gathered my pillow and blanket, and walked out with tears blurring my vision.
“Emilia?”
“I can’t stay in here.” The door closed behind me. Damian stared at the empty space next to him in disbelief.
---
The following morning, I left for work before he even stirred.
At the meeting, my boss announced, “This new project is demanding and will require overtime. The compensation is high. Does anyone want to take it on?”
“I will,” I said immediately.
Shock rippled around the room. Even my boss looked hesitant. “Emilia, what about your husband? And you’re pregnant—we assumed you’d be preparing for maternity leave—”
“I lost the baby,” I said calmly. “There’s no leave to prepare for.”
The room fell silent. The meeting ended awkwardly. Afterward, she asked everyone else to leave and motioned for me to stay.
“I’m sorry if this is too personal,” she said gently, “but… are things alright between you and your husband?”
She paused, then continued carefully, “You’re one of our most capable employees. I’ve wanted to promote you for a while, but that would mean transferring to the capital. I didn’t think you’d agree to be so far from your family. But would you consider it now?”
I offered a faint smile. “Thank you for thinking of me. I’d like to accept the transfer.”
She looked surprised but nodded slowly. After a moment, she added hesitantly, “My husband was at the Southwest Lounge last night. He overheard Damian talking with his friends.”
My fingers curled unconsciously. “And?”
“He was talking about your baby. He said… because you grew up an orphan, you wouldn’t know how to raise a child properly. So he asked his friend—Adriana—to help him with it.”
She met my eyes with regret. “I only told you because if I were in your place, I’d want to know.”
It felt like freezing water poured straight through my veins.
So this was how he truly saw me.
I forced a trembling smile. “Thank you for telling me.”
Just then, my phone buzzed. Damian’s name flashed on the screen.
“Emilia, you left early today?” he said. “You’re already in your second trimester and you’re pushing yourself again. I told you to resign. And there was no breakfast when I woke up.”
His tone sounded concerned—but annoyance lingered underneath.
I hummed faintly without responding.
After a brief pause, he added, “Even though I missed the anniversary dinner, I did buy you a gift.”
“Did you?” I asked flatly.
“You like heart-shaped diamonds, don’t you? I got you a pendant…” He trailed off, distracted. “Strange… where did I put it?”
I could hear him rummaging around. “It’s not here—”
His voice cut off as realization struck him. The image from yesterday’s post burned into my mind—Adriana, wearing a diamond heart against her collarbone. My vision blurred.
To hide it, he forced a laugh. “Maybe I dropped it somewhere.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied softly. “I didn’t get you anything either.”
His patience snapped. “You’ve been difficult since yesterday. Since you can’t contribute much right now, the least you could do is manage the house properly—cook, take care of yourself, look presentable for me. Stop acting like everything is a tragedy.”
“Yes. It meant nothing,” I whispered, tears sliding free.
Of course he had bought a gift—for the woman he truly cherished first. Whatever came to me afterward was only a leftover gesture.
“I could never make you happy, no matter how hard I tried. And Damian,” I added quietly, “I’ve loved sapphires since I was a child. I’ve never liked diamonds. Not once.”
Then I ended the call.
