Chapter 3

Early the next morning, I went to the hospital alone. I didn't tell a soul.

The procedure was quick, and once the anesthesia wore off, a dull ache radiated through my abdomen.

I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the sterile white ceiling, and didn't shed a tear.

What was there to cry about? A man like Matthew wasn't worth the salt in my tears. And as for this child who should never have been... it wasn't worth it either.

Leaving the hospital, I grabbed a cab and went back to my apartment. I'd bought it with my own savings before I got married. It was small, but at least it was mine, and mine alone.

I had just stepped through the door and hadn't even changed my shoes when it was kicked open with a violent crash.

Matthew stormed in. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was a mess, and his suit jacket was rumpled as if he hadn't slept a wink.

"Celia!" He lunged at me, grabbing my shoulders with enough force to shatter bone. "How dare you get rid of my child?"

He shook me until I was dizzy, but I kept my face an absolute blank. I waited for him to finish his roar before I finally looked at him.

"Mr. Hawthorne, we are divorced." My voice was as casual as if I were commenting on the weather. "The ink on those papers isn't even dry yet. What on earth made you think I'd still carry your child?"

Matthew was stunned. It was as if I were speaking a foreign language. He stared at me blankly, his grip on my shoulders finally loosening. "What... what did you just say?"

I pushed him away, walked over to the coffee table, poured myself some water, and sipped it slowly. The water traveling down my throat slightly dulled the ache in my abdomen.

"I said we're divorced now." I turned back to face him, watching his features contort with a mix of shock and fury. "Matthew, surely you didn't think I couldn't live without you?

"Or did you expect me to act like those drama queens on TV, have your kid in secret, then show up with the baby, crying my eyes out and begging you to change your mind for the sake of the child?"

I laughed. It was cold and biting. "Do you really think you're worth that much?"

Matthew's face drained of color, turning pale. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to die in his throat.

I set the glass down and paced toward him. Before he could even process what was happening, I swung my hand and landed a brutal slap right across his face.

The crisp slap rang out in the silent apartment, loud enough to sting the air.

Matthew's head snapped to the side, a vivid red handprint blooming across his cheek. He covered his face, looking at me in utter disbelief. "You... you actually hit me?"

"So what if I did?" I pulled my hand back, my fingertips still tingling from the impact. "Matthew, that slap was to snap you out of it.

"Aren't you supposed to be head over heels for Grace? Weren't the two of you going to ride off into the sunset together?

"Fine, I'm making it easy for you. Since you love her so much and since you're so devoted to her five-year-old daughter, Fiona..."

I said deliberately, every word like a shard of ice. "Why don't you just adopt her? Make it official so she can inherit the entire Hawthorne legacy. Isn't that the 'happily ever after' you were looking for?"

A long silence stretched between us before Matthew finally managed to grit out a response. "Fine, Celia. Don't come crying to me later."