Chapter 2

The pain in my abdomen was killing me, so I headed to the hospital. The doctor dropped a bombshell—I was four weeks pregnant.

After the check-up, she spoke with genuine concern, "Your constitution isn't very strong, so you'll need to be extra careful during this pregnancy."

Seeing how pale I was, she softened her tone. "Your condition is serious right now. Shouldn't your husband be here with you?"

I blinked slowly. The truth was, Chester was probably too busy for me right now.

I dragged myself downstairs and stepped outside into the complete darkness of the evening.

Remembering the doctor's serious warnings, I pulled out my phone and called Chester.

The call had barely connected when I started, "Can you come get me? I'm at—"

But Theresa answered instead, her voice dripping with smugness. "Eunice, Chester's making dinner for me right now. He can't come get you."

Through the phone, I could faintly hear Chester's voice in the background.

I heard Theresa tell him, "Eunice wants you to pick her up."

Chester took the phone and answered, "Eunice, where are you?"

Theresa's voice whined beside him. "Chester, I'm starving. They made me drink all afternoon, and now my stomach really hurts."

I just held my phone, not saying a word.

His voice softened, laced with fond surrender. "Alright, I'll go make you something to eat right now, my princess."

Then he said to me over the phone, "Eunice, just grab a cab home. Text me the license plate number."

The beeping buzzing in my ear was a harsh reminder that Chester had chosen Theresa over me once again.

As I climbed into the cab, the smell of gasoline made me feel sick, and my face grew even paler.

Chester knew how much I hated the smell of gasoline, so he used to drive me everywhere himself—his car filled with the sweet orange scent that I loved most.

Back then, I thought he still cared about me. But now that Theresa was back, I suddenly meant nothing to him.

When I finally focused on the passing streets, my heart sank—nothing looked familiar. This wasn't the way to my home.

The cab driver's eyes kept flickering over me in the rearview mirror, making cold sweat break out across my skin.

Trying to keep my trembling hands steady, I pressed the speed dial for my emergency contact.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I silently pleaded for Chester to pick up.

"It's pretty late, miss. Are you living alone?" the driver asked.

I stared at the rejected call screen, biting my lip as tears welled up in my eyes.

"Sorry, my... my boyfriend is calling me," I stammered, fumbling to play the recording. A voice I hadn't heard in so long filled the car.

"Eunice, where are you? Why aren't you here yet?" a male voice asked.

Trying to steady my voice, I replied, "I'm almost there."

"Yeah, right. You always say 'almost.' That could mean an hour or all night. Just send me your location. I'm coming to get you," the voice replied.

"Okay," I said softly.

*****

When I finally stood on that familiar street, I collapsed to the pavement, sobbing uncontrollably.

After six years, Ryan Saunders saved me again. But the cruel truth was, I'd lost him forever six years ago.

I played that recording of his voice on repeat, torturing myself by imagining his face as he said every word. Each replay felt like a fresh wound.

When Chester started calling repeatedly, I just blocked his number, powered off my phone, and flopped onto the hotel bed, exhausted.

The next morning, Chester tracked me down and brought me home.

He spent the whole ride trying to explain himself and apologize, but I acted like I didn't hear a word.

As soon as I opened the door to our house, Theresa greeted me with a smug smile. She was wearing my nightgown and the couple's slippers that Chester and I shared, looking at me with the arrogant air of someone who owned the place.

"Eunice, you're back. Perfect timing—I'm actually hungry. Chester says you're a fantastic cook—I've been wanting to try your food," she said sweetly.

I snorted coldly. "If you're that hungry, the bathroom's that way. Come out when you're full."

Theresa's lips trembled, eyes glistening with fake tears. "Chester, did I say something wrong again? I was just trying to be friendly with Eunice, like you suggested..."

Chester hurried to her side and gave her a reassuring pat on the head. "You didn't do anything wrong. Don't cry now, or your eyes will get sore."

Feeling unwell and unwilling to engage further, I ignored them and headed upstairs.

"Eunice, pull yourself together and come down to whip up a few home-style dishes," Chester called after me.

Without even turning around, I shot back, "In your dreams."

"Chester, let's just forget it. I don't want to make things hard for you," Theresa said, tears beginning to fall. "I know Eunice doesn't think much of me."

As soon as she started crying, Chester's heart ached for her. He pulled me aside and whispered, "Eunice, just be reasonable, okay? I don't want to make this ugly."

I tried to hold back, but my eyes grew warm with unshed tears anyway. "Chester, I'm really not feeling well."

He frowned when he felt how cold my hands were. Without hesitation, he picked me up in his arms and carried me to the bed. "I'll get the doctor here. Take a rest. Don't worry about anything."

He warmed my hands between his and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before quietly leaving the room.

I didn't leave my room all day. When mealtimes came, Chester brought food upstairs for me.

Later that evening, Theresa barged into my room and went straight to my closet. "Eunice, I didn't bring anything to change into, so I'll have to wear yours for now," she declared.

I saw her tossing my clothes around before pulling her away from the closet. "If you need clothes, buy your own. Oh, sorry, I forgot you couldn't afford to."

I grabbed my wallet from the closet, took out some cash, and shoved it at her chest. "Here, go buy yourself some clothes."

She bit down hard on her lip, shooting me a look full of humiliation.

With a smirk, I folded the money and tucked them into the neckline of her top. "60 bucks—this should be more than enough for someone like you."

She finally ran from the room, face buried in her hands.

It was late at night when Chester finally came back to our room. I expected him to pick a fight.

But instead, he pulled me into his arms, nuzzling my neck, and asked softly, "Still mad at me?"

I couldn't stand his two-faced behavior, so I called him out. "If you want me to apologize to her, you'll be waiting forever."

Chester burst out laughing, giving my chin a playful squeeze. "No one would ever make you apologize."

He leaned in and kissed me—a soft, lingering kiss that felt both apologetic and comforting.

Despite myself, tears began to fall again.

As I lost myself in the moment, he kissed my earlobe and whispered, "Eunice, could you make breakfast tomorrow? Theresa's been crying her eyes out. Please do this for me, okay?"

A cold numbness spread through me, but I couldn't even muster the strength to push him away.

After a long, heavy silence, I managed a weak smile and said, "Sure."