Chapter 2
When Sophia woke up again, the doctor told her she'd lost the baby.
She leaned against the headboard, her eyes as empty as a dead forest, lifeless and cold.
She stared out the window at the sycamore tree, motionless, as if she'd turned to stone.
Just then, the door to the hospital room swung open.
Ethan stepped inside, his imposing figure seeming to crowd the room, making the air feel even heavier.
"Sophia, how are you holding up?" Ethan asked softly.
He sat down at the edge of the bed, his warm, strong hand enveloping her cold, delicate fingers.
"Are you still feeling unwell?" he asked, concern clear in his eyes.
Sophia pulled her hand back, her voice hoarse. "Didn't you get hurt pretty bad? How did you even manage to come see me?"
Ethan paused for a moment, then quickly explained, "I just hurt my back; it's much better now. Of course, I had to come see you, you're in the hospital."
He paused for a moment, then steered the conversation away. "I heard what happened with the baby."
Sophia's eyelids trembled as she looked up at him, her eyes rimmed with red.
Ethan's features were chiseled and handsome, his eyes deep and unreadable. He wore a mask of concern, but Sophia caught a fleeting hint of satisfaction flicker in his gaze.
He really was pleased with himself for a second there.
Sophia felt a sharp stab in her heart, biting down hard to keep her lips from trembling.
"What's wrong?" Ethan asked.
He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an unusually tender gesture for him. "Are you still feeling unwell?" he asked.
Sophia kept quiet, her eyes fixed on Ethan's face, searching for something.
"It's over, the baby's gone. We can have another one someday, so don't dwell on it," Ethan said, his tone almost too calm.
Sophia's nose prickled with the urge to cry, but she fought to keep her voice steady.
"Ethan, did you ever actually want this baby?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan froze for a moment, then collected himself. "Of course, Sophia. This was our baby, yours and mine."
Sophia lowered her eyes and gave a soft, almost weary smile.
A month ago, when she first found out she was pregnant, she was overflowing with joy and anticipation.
But Ethan didn't feel the same way.
He was calm and silent.
Back then, Sophia thought maybe it was just his personality.
But now she realized that this baby was just as unwelcome as she was.
Sophia forced down the ache in her throat, feeling so drained she couldn't even find the strength to speak.
"That's enough. I need to rest," she murmured, her voice flat and distant.
Ethan didn't suspect a thing. He gently tucked the blanket around her, his voice low and quiet.
"Alright, get some rest. I'll come by later," he said.
With that, he turned and walked out without looking back.
The moment the door closed behind Ethan, Sophia couldn't hold back anymore. She released her death grip on the sheets, and tears spilled down her cheeks, completely out of control.
Her pillow was soon drenched with tears.
"I'm sorry, baby. Mommy's so sorry.
"All of this is my fault," she whispered, her voice thick with guilt.
Sophia sobbed until the veins on her forehead stood out, her frail body curled up under the blanket, trembling all over.
Just then, a robotic voice buzzed in her head.
It said, "Dear host, your mission progress is nearly complete. Do you want to return to your original world now?]
Sophia clenched her fists so hard her knuckles went white.
Not a hint of hesitation, she was firm and decisive.
"I want to. I want to go back." Her voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt.
After making her decision, Sophia lay down on the bed, feeling so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. Sleepiness quickly took over, and she was out in no time.
In her dream, she was back in time, thirteen years ago.
She was just a scared orphan, standing at the doorway, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.
She remembered a long, black luxury car slowly pulling up in front of her, and a tall, slender man stepping out.
He had broad shoulders, a slim waist, and a cold, commanding aura that made people instinctively wary.
The man walked right up to her, reached out his hand, and his voice was low and smooth.
"Come with me. I'll take you home," he said, his voice gentle but firm.
Back then, she was just twelve, a lost little girl, when she was adopted by a man twelve years her senior.
Ever since then, she had lived with him in the manor.
But he was just her legal guardian.
He was controlling to an extreme.
He wouldn't let her talk to any other man but him, and she had to tell him about everywhere she went; he was always keeping tabs on her.
He'd say, "Remember, you can only stay where I can see you."
"Stay away from them," he'd say, his voice brooking no argument.
He was possessive as hell.
But honestly, in that world, he was the only one who ever truly cared about her. His kindness was real, no questions asked.
She couldn't help but wonder what would happen to him if she were to end up in a vegetative state.
In her dream, the man was there, cooking her meals, soothing her to sleep, and looking after her like she was his whole world.
Sophia felt a sudden, wistful ache in her heart. She wanted so badly to reach out and hold onto that familiar figure, but no matter what she did, he was always just out of reach.
The dream shattered, and Sophia jolted awake, her long lashes clumped with tears, her vision blurred and damp.
She curled up, missing the man whose hold she once desperately wanted to escape.
She hadn't seen his face or heard his voice in ages.
But she'd be back there soon enough anyway.