Chapter 4

That night, after crying for two whole hours, I still ended up calling James.

I asked him about the money for my dad.

James picked up right away, but his voice was full of sarcasm and cold snark.

"Oh, your dad's money? I'm kinda tight on cash myself lately," he said.

"Tell your dad to go borrow from his old friends first. I'll get it to him next month," he added.

My fingers were clenched so tightly around the phone that my knuckles turned white.

I held my breath for a long moment, forcing myself to sound calm.

"What do you want from me before you'll give my dad the money?" I asked.

James hit speaker on the phone. "Just say sorry to Sophie right now. I promised her a car tonight to make her feel better. If she forgives you, I won't have to buy her that car, and I'll have the cash to cover your dad's loan payment."

For a second, I nearly snapped and wanted to scream at James.

I wanted to rage at him, to ask if he really had to humiliate her to such an extent.

But then a sharp cramp hit my stomach, and it instantly snapped me back to reality.

Even though I felt completely humiliated, my whole body was trembling as I forced myself to say into the phone, "I'm sorry, Miss Lane. I shouldn't have pushed you this afternoon. I shouldn't have yelled at you either. It was my fault."

As I said those words, I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, and I bit down on my lip so hard I could taste blood, just to keep my voice from shaking.

As soon as I finished speaking, Sophie's soft voice came through the phone. "Emily, don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong. You don't need to apologize. I just lost my balance this afternoon.

"It's all James's fault. I caught the flu and wasn't feeling well, so I didn't want to talk to him. But he thought I was mad and insisted you apologize to me.

"I'm really not mad, Emily. Honestly, I'm just happy you let me have a piece of James. Seriously, I'm not upset at all. You're pregnant, right? You should focus on taking care of yourself first."

As I listened to Sophie's voice, tears streamed down my face.

I clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug into my skin, just to keep myself from crying out loud.

As soon as Sophie finished speaking, James took the phone back.

He said in a lazy, casual tone, "Emily, look at Sophie, she's so well-behaved. You should try to be more like her. Stop acting like you're better than everyone else all the time. I'll get the finance team to send your dad's money over soon."

With that, James hung up.

As I listened to the dial tone, I finally broke down and sobbed, unable to hold back the pain any longer.

Especially when, through my tears, my eyes landed on the high school graduation photo of James and me hanging on the wall in my room.

The ache in my chest surged, like a thousand blades piercing straight into my heart.

James and I were high school classmates, but the truth was, he was a scholarship student at our private school, while I was there because my family was rich.

We moved in different circles, had different friends, and even after three years of high school, we'd barely spoken more than ten words to each other.

Plus, I had a boyfriend back then.

After graduation, I went abroad for college, and my boyfriend and I broke up amicably because of the long distance.

Later, I came back home, and that was when I ran into James at my dad's company.

He was there as a supplier, negotiating a deal.

As soon as he saw me, James immediately called out my name, but I had to rack my brain before I finally remembered who he was.

After that, James started chasing after me like crazy. My dad was all for it, saying James was a self-made man, capable, and destined for big things.

Honestly, I kind of liked him too. He was always so gentle and witty, a star student from a top school, and he'd even started his own company.

So, after a while, James and I started dating. Two years into our relationship, he finally told me he'd been in love with me for ten years, ever since he was eighteen. I was really moved by how deep his feelings were.

And when he proposed a year later, I didn't even hesitate. I said yes right away.

Back then, I really thought I was the luckiest woman alive to have met James. I felt so blessed to have found a guy who treated me like a queen, someone who just fit me perfectly in every way.

But it wasn't until our wedding night, when James got drunk and let something slip that completely blindsided me.

"Emily, how come you're suddenly not like the Emily you were at eighteen anymore?" he said.

That was the moment real panic hit me.

But after that, James never showed the slightest hint that anything was off. He treated me just as tenderly as he did before we got married.

It wasn't until the video of James cheating came out, and until I ran into that girl today, that everything finally clicked.

She was wearing clothes from the brand I loved most when I was eighteen.

And right between her brows was a tiny mole, in the same place as mine. That was when it all hit me.

Maybe James had never really loved the person I was becoming.

He was always obsessed with the eighteen-year-old me, the girl he could never truly have.

The pain in my chest was suffocating, and that night, I burned with a high fever.

The housekeeper kept urging me to go to the hospital, but I just wouldn't go.

I had no idea who I was even struggling with, but all I knew was that it felt like a huge chunk of my heart was missing.

It wasn't until the middle of the night that blood started gushing from between my legs, soaking my pajamas and staining the sheets beneath me. That was when panic truly set in.

I started screaming hysterically for the housekeeper, my voice raw with fear.

I hysterically dialed James's number, my hands shaking so badly I could barely press the buttons.

But as always, he didn't pick up.

As the blood kept pouring out and my belly started cramping, I finally broke down, sobbing hysterically.

That was when I finally called my mom.

Then I called my dad.

I was crying the whole time on the phone.

I had no idea what I was even saying.

All I knew was, it felt like I was about to die.

And my baby was dying too.

I was barely conscious as they rushed me to the hospital in an ambulance.

I saw my parents crying, each holding one of my hands.

Crying, they pleaded, "Emily, don't fall asleep."

"Emily, stay with us, don't fall asleep."

Every time, I felt like I was trying to say something, but I couldn't even make out my own words.

Later, as they wheeled me toward the emergency room, I caught sight of James bursting in.

His hair was a mess, and his shirt buttons were mismatched.

He looked like an enraged beast, ready to storm into the operating room.

He cried, "Emily, don't die. Please, don't die."

But before he could finish, my dad punched him right in the face.

From that moment on, I remember nothing.

When I finally opened my eyes again, my mom saw me and rushed over, tears streaming down her face.

"Emily, I promise you, we'll get you divorced. We'll do it right away. Your dad says he's already figured it out. We'll sell the old house, the villa, the cars. Even if we have to beg for a living, you must leave James, no matter what," she said.

Tears streamed down my face.

"Okay," I whispered.