Chapter 3
I felt a lump in my throat. I tugged at the sleeve of Simon, who was sitting beside me.
"Can't we let her stay?" I pleaded.
Simon remained unmoved, his expression cold and distant.
He said, "We agreed she'd be euthanized.
"If I hadn't been impulsive, someone like you would never have gotten pregnant with my child."
As soon as he finished speaking, the baby seemed to sense something was wrong and cried even louder. My heart ached with every cry.
I said, "She's crying so loudly, and she's so little. I'll go abroad, somewhere nobody knows me. I swear I'll never—"
"No," Simon cut me off.
He frowned impatiently and covered my ears with his hands.
"You can't hear it if you don't listen. Be good," he said.
I watched helplessly as they plunged a four-inch needle into the baby's fragile body.
It didn't seem to work. They talked among themselves, and one of them walked over to Simon. "Mr. Ferguson, the euthanasia isn't working."
"Then strangle her," Simon replied.
He spoke as if the baby were nothing more than a disposable object.
But that was my baby.
If she wouldn't die, why couldn't she live?
I screamed, "You're insane!"
But Simon slammed his hand over my mouth.
I struggled desperately, but he tied me up with rope.
In the end, all I could do was watch as my baby stopped breathing right in front of me.
She died right before my eyes.
From birth to death, my baby had only lived for two minutes.
Simon finally let go of me.
Tears streamed down my face. Ignoring the pain from my C-section incision tearing, I stumbled toward the baby.
Her body was still warm.
She was the baby girl I had always wished for.
I collapsed beside her and sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry."
It was my fault. I couldn't protect you.
The entire operating room fell silent.
I turned and crawled over to grab Simon's pant leg.
"Can we at least put up a headstone for her? Just somewhere I can visit?" I begged.
Simon's frown deepened, and he shot me down without hesitation.
He said, "I can't let Mabel know I had a child with someone else.
"Letting you see her one last time is already my mercy. Don't push your luck."
He paused and leaned down slightly. He brushed my wet hair behind my ear and picked me up, carrying me toward the door.
Simon said, "It's just a baby. There's nothing to cry about.
"When I get back, I'll make it up to you with that limited-edition bag you've always wanted."
He gave a slight smirk as he said this.
"And of course, if you still want to keep our relationship when I get back, I'd be happy to."
Simon hooked a finger under my chin, lifting it softly. "After all, you're pretty good in bed. I'd hate to lose that."
His gaze swept over me, breaking down the last defenses I had left.
I glared at him, my whole body shaking.
"You bastard!" I spat.
Simon paused for a moment, instinctively frowning, then relaxed.
"Fine, I'm not going to argue with you today," he said.
Just like that, our child was swept under the rug.
I clenched my fists tightly.
I could still feel the last bit of warmth from my baby's body.
Simon said, "Alright. Mabel and I are leaving now.
"I've arranged for a caregiver. Get some rest."
Simon turned and walked away without hesitation, not even sparing me a single glance.
The moment the hospital room door closed, I collapsed on the bed and whispered, "There is no more us."
*****
When I opened my eyes again, my head was fuzzy. I found myself not in the hospital but in a strange, clean bedroom.
"We have been having trouble with this project lately. We were hoping you..." My mother's voice oozed with flattery.
"My son wants her, so I have no objections. Get her ready and send her to the site," a man replied, his voice hoarse.
As soon as he finished, I heard footsteps echoing through the room.
The next moment, the door opened from the outside.
I locked eyes with my mother, who was standing in the doorway with a cold expression.
"Who are you sending me to?" I demanded, my voice shaking.
I glanced down at the wedding dress I was wearing.
"You're lucky. The Torres family wants you. Mr. Torres specifically asked to marry you today," my mother said.
My eyes went wide slightly.
"Blake Torres?" I asked.
Everyone in Crestmor City knew about Blake. After a car accident years ago, he was left impotent and wheelchair-bound. He had become increasingly mentally unstable over the years.
Countless girls had died at his hands. His only redeeming quality was his handsome face.
Marrying him was a death sentence.
"I won't marry him," I said.