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In the seven years of my marriage to Rufus Bowman, I became pregnant nine times, but I lost every child. The first pregnancy ended when the doctor told me the fetus was not developing properly. The second ended after a prenatal appointment, when a motorcycle ran a red light and sent me flying across the road. The third was nearly fatal. I was abducted by one of Rufus's business enemies and almost died along with the baby. Heartbroken, Rufus eventually suggested that we stop trying for children altogether, though I knew how much he longed to be a father. Then, after nearly six months, I found out I was pregnant again. Clutching the ultrasound report, I went to find him, only to overhear him speaking with a doctor friend. The doctor said, "Rufus, this is Sacha's tenth pregnancy. If she keeps terminating them, she may never conceive again. "The baby is healthy." There was a long silence before Rufus said hoarsely, "Back then, because of Sacha, Hazel got angry and aborted our child. She said Sacha had to repay her tenfold before she'd come back to me. "As for Sacha... her father died saving my life in that fire. I promised him I would take care of her. My wife's title will always belong to her." My hand instinctively moved to my stomach as tears blurred my vision. All this time, I had believed my repeated miscarriages were fate. But it turned out that every miscarriage had been arranged by the man lying beside me each night. At that moment, I understood. I no longer wanted this child. I no longer wanted Rufus either.