Chapter 5
Four days after I moved in.
I went to the hospital alone.
I had a prenatal checkup scheduled.
I'd had bloodwork done a week ago, today was for the results.
Actually, the day before the Anniversary Gala, I'd already taken a pregnancy test.
Two lines showed up.
No mistaking it.
I'd planned to tell Ethan at the Anniversary Gala, waiting for the perfect moment.
I'd even practiced how I'd say it, "Ethan, you're going to be a dad."
But then Sophie stole my moment and said something else instead.
Now I was sitting in the Maternity Waiting Area, clutching my ticket in my hand.
All around me were pregnant women, with their husbands or mothers-in-law keeping them company.
The seat next to me was empty.
My number was called.
The doctor looked to be in her forties, wearing glasses, with a gentle, reassuring look.
She glanced over my bloodwork and then checked the ultrasound report.
Then she took off her glasses and looked at me.
"Your HCG level is low," she said.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"And your progesterone level isn't great either."
She turned the report around and showed me some numbers. I had no idea what they meant, but I could see a few red arrows pointing down.
"All things considered, the embryo isn't settling in very well. There's a risk of threatened miscarriage," she added.
Threatened miscarriage.
I clenched my ticket so tightly that it made a faint crinkling sound in my hand.
"What do I need to do?" I asked.
"I'll prescribe some meds to help protect the pregnancy. You need to rest as much as possible, avoid stress, and don't overdo it. Come back in a week for a follow-up," she said.
She glanced at me, then looked past me, as if checking for someone else.
"Where's your family?" she asked.
"They didn't come," I replied.
"It's best to have someone to look after you during this time."
"I'll be fine on my own."
She watched me for a few seconds, then said nothing more and started writing out the prescription.
When I stepped out of the hospital, the sky was overcast.
I was carrying a bag with prescription meds for the pregnancy and folic acid.
My phone lit up.
It was Ethan's thirty-seventh missed call.
I silenced my phone.
Shoved it into my pocket.
I walked over to the curb and hailed a cab.
The wind was whipping my hair all over the place.
I held the bag of meds in one hand and used the other to keep my hair out of my face.
The cab pulled up.
I bent down, got in, and gave the driver my address.
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
"You went to the prenatal checkup all by yourself?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"Young people these days," he muttered, shaking his head, but didn't say anything else.
I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes.
Almost without realizing it, my hand came to rest on my stomach.
My stomach was still flat.
I couldn't feel anything at all.
But inside, there was a tiny, fragile life.
So fragile, barely holding on.
Just like me.
When did Ethan realize things had gone seriously wrong?
It was the moment he walked into his apartment and found it completely empty.
Sean told me about it later.
It's not like I was snooping around, Sean was the one who reached out to Megan first, and then she passed the news on to me.
According to Sean, that day, after Ethan wrapped up an emergency meeting, he returned to the apartment at ten that night.
The moment he opened the door, he knew something was wrong.
The keys were on the entryway cabinet.
The coat rack was half-empty.
Four pairs of shoes were missing from the shoe cabinet.
He didn't even bother to change his shoes, he just walked straight into the bedroom.
He opened the closet.
My side was completely cleared out.
All the hangers were still there, perfectly lined up, but not a single thing was hanging on them.
The vanity was completely bare.
All my skincare, makeup, and jewelry had vanished.
The countertop was spotless.
The only thing left was a faint ring of water, the last mark from the wet wipe I used before leaving.
Ethan stood in the middle of the bedroom for a long time, unable to move.
After a while, he headed to the study.
All the books I'd left on the shelves, business analyses, industry reports, and those mystery novels I'd practically memorized, every single one was gone.
He crouched down and opened the bottom drawer of the desk.
There was an envelope inside.
I had left it for him.
The envelope wasn't sealed, and inside were two things.
One was a copy of the stock transfer authorization.
It showed that 12% of Howard Enterprises' shares had been transferred from Julia Lane to an independent third-party trust.
He paused, fingers frozen, as he pulled the other one out.
It was a pregnancy test report.
The date was the day before the Anniversary Gala.
It read: [HCG Level: Positive.]
Sean said Ethan sat there on the study floor, clutching that report, for a whole hour.
He didn't budge, like he was frozen in place.
Then he dialed my number.
It was the thirty-eighth time.
No answer.
He dialed again.
For the thirty-ninth time.
No answer.
For the fortieth time.
This time, the call went straight to voicemail, it didn't even ring.
I'd blocked his number.