Chapter 1
When my wife was rushed into the emergency room, the doctor came straight to me.
"The patient has a ruptured ectopic pregnancy," the doctor said. "She needs surgery right now. Family member, please sign the consent form."
I took the consent form, my eyes lingering on the gestational age section.
Four months.
Because six months ago, my wife, Ariana Rhodes, told me, "I can't stand the sight of you."
From that day on, we've been sleeping in separate rooms.
The cold war between us has dragged on until now.
We hadn't had any intimacy for half a year.
But now, she was somehow four months pregnant.
Ariana lay on the hospital bed, staring at me like she was scared out of her mind. "Colton. Please, save me."
I didn't answer.
Instead, I took out my phone.
I scrolled through the chat history from six months ago.
Then, right in front of all the doctors and nurses, I dropped a bombshell.
"The baby," I said. "I'm certain this isn't my child."
Just then, I heard hurried footsteps approaching from the hallway.
My mother-in-law, Gabriella Rhodes, rushed in.
Without missing a beat, Gabriella blurted out, "Is the baby okay?"
"Mr. Tucker, are you the patient's family?" the doctor asked, his face serious as he blocked my way and handed me an ultrasound report.
"The patient has a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. It's extremely dangerous. She needs surgery right now, or both the mother and the baby could die," the doctor said.
I looked down at the report.
[Name: Ariana Rhodes.]
[Gestational age: Four months.]
The moment I read those words, I couldn't help but laugh.
Even the doctor was caught off guard by my reaction.
Four months.
Ariana and I hadn't even slept together in half a year.
To be precise, ever since that huge argument six months ago, we've been sleeping in separate rooms.
Looking back, the reason for that argument almost seems ridiculous now.
She said I was always busy with work and never spent time with her.
I thought she was getting colder and colder, like she didn't care about our home anymore.
Neither of us would back down. And so the cold war began.
For half a year, we lived under the same roof as if we were just roommates. Except for the necessary exchanges, there was barely any closeness between us.
But now, my wife was four months pregnant.
I clenched the report in my hand, and just like that, the suffocating weight I'd been carrying for half a year vanished.
So that was why she had been so distant lately.
The doctor urged me, his tone impatient, "Please sign the consent form. We can't wait any longer."
I pushed the form back toward him.
"I can't sign this," I said flatly.
The doctor frowned. "What do you mean?"
Colton said calmly, "The baby isn't mine."
As soon as those words left Colton's mouth, the hallway fell into a stunned silence.
The nurses nearby were stunned.
The doctor looked totally lost for a moment.
"Mr. Tucker, this isn't the time for family drama," the doctor said.
"I'm not here to argue," I replied.
I gave a bitter laugh.
"Ariana and I haven't been together in half a year, and now she's four months pregnant. So tell me, who do you think knocked her up?" I asked.
The doctor opened his mouth, but couldn't find any words.
Suddenly, chaos erupted in the hospital room.
"Colton." Ariana's voice cut through the chaos, desperate and panicked.
I turned toward the sound.
Ariana was awake, lying on the hospital bed.
Her face was pale, her forehead slick with cold sweat.
When she saw me, a flicker of hope flashed in her eyes, like she'd just grabbed onto a lifeline.
But as soon as she spotted the report in my hand, panic flashed across her face.
And then, all that was left was pure, crushing despair.
"Colton," Ariana's voice trembled. "You're here."
I stood at the doorway, not stepping inside.
We'd been married for six years.
Ariana had always been the model wife in everyone else's eyes.
She was drop-dead gorgeous.
She always had this soft, gentle vibe about her.
After college, she started working at a media company.
As for me, I ran a small ad design firm. It wasn't big, but it brought in pretty decent money.
Six years ago, we went from dating to tying the knot.
Everyone said we were a perfect match.
Even I thought so.
But today, that was when it hit me that my whole life was just a joke.
Ariana struggled to sit up.
The nurse rushed over and held her down.
"Don't move," the nurse said.
But Ariana didn't even seem to hear her.
Her gaze was fixed on me, eyes full of desperation.
"Sign it, please, just sign it," Ariana pleaded.
Her eyes were red-rimmed and tear-stained. Her voice trembled with sobs.
"Please, I'm begging you," Ariana pleaded.
Every eye in the room was on me.
Some faces were full of sympathy. Others were just plain curious.
Some people were checking me out on the sly.
Everyone was watching, waiting to see if I'd break down.
Too bad. I didn't.
I shoved my hands in my pockets.
I just stood there, watching Ariana on the bed.
Half a year ago, maybe my heart would have ached for her.
But now?