Chapter 1
The day I went to terminate my pregnancy, I deliberately chose a hospital as far from home as possible.
On the operating table, the doctor asked why I wanted the procedure.
I replied, "I'm getting a divorce. Keeping the babies would only make things harder for everyone."
The doctor pulled down her mask. I froze. She was my husband's older sister, the brilliant, no-nonsense doctor everyone in the family respected.
Her brows furrowed. "Does my brother know you're here?"
I shook my head. "That's exactly why I came all the way out here."
She stared at me in disbelief. "Why? Hasn't he always treated you well?"
"Well?" I let out a bitter laugh. "Is that what you call forcing me to give up my baby so he can make room for his first love?"
She tossed the consent form aside and ripped off her white coat. "This procedure isn't happening. Come on. We're going to deal with those two cheaters."
*****
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of cold metal instruments glinting under the clinical, pale glare of the overhead lights. They were lifeless, not a shred of warmth anywhere.
The air reeked of disinfectant, the acrid smell twisting my stomach into knots.
I lay sprawled on the operating table, my legs weakly apart, helpless as the strange, icy touch crept across my skin.
My belly was just beginning to show, two tiny lives taking shape inside me. I could almost picture their delicate little heartbeats fluttering quietly.
But today, all of that would be coming to an end.
I orchestrated this execution myself. The executioner and the sacrifice, trapped in one body.
The doctor's voice above me was flat, almost robotic. "Where's your family? Did you come alone?"
I shut my eyes, my throat so dry it hurt.
"I don't have family," I said.
"Why are you having the operation?" she pressed.
"I'm getting divorced. Keeping the baby would make things harder."
As I spoke, it felt like an invisible hand was crushing and mangling my heart, twisting it into a pile of useless pulp.
The overhead light seemed to flicker, and I caught a faint gasp.
The doctor in a blue mask leaned over me, sharp eyes staring right through me.
Those eyes were so familiar.
She yanked off her mask, revealing a face I knew too well.
It was Claire Goodman, my husband's sister, a top obstetrician and the new star in medicine.
Out of all people, I had to bump into her.
My mind turned to mush; all my composure and façade collapsed at once.
Claire's brow was deeply furrowed. Her gaze was a mix of shock and scrutiny.
"Olivia? What are you doing here?" she said.
Her tone was low, every single word striking my nerves like a hammer.
"Does Ethan know you're here?" she asked.
I avoided her gaze, shaking my head awkwardly.
"That's exactly why I came so far. I didn't want him to find out," I replied.
I expected her to act like her mother, urge me to grin and bear it for the Goodman family, for Ethan's reputation.
But she didn't.
The disbelief in her eyes was almost overflowing.
"Why? Hasn't Ethan always treated you well, like you're something fragile and precious?" she said.
Her words cut into my battered heart again and again like a blunt blade.
Yeah, but that was in the past.
Once, Ethan really was like that with me.
But now, he was the one who sent me straight to hell.
Despair and humiliation swept away the last shred of my sanity. I nearly roared, "Treated me well? So well he's making me abort my twins to clear space for his first love?
"So well that while I was holding the ultrasound showing twins, he was in our bed screwing that woman?"
My voice echoed around the empty operating room, sharp and shrill, almost unrecognizable to myself.
Claire's face drained of all color.
She stared hard at me, as if trying to spot any hint of a lie.
I gave a bitter smile, and finally the tears broke loose.
She saw the answer in my eyes.
Then Claire did something so unexpected, it left me stunned.
She snatched up the surgery notice and tore it in two right in front of me.
The pieces drifted down like white butterflies, settling on the floor.
"This operation's off," she said.
She shrugged out of her white coat, revealing a sleek shirt and slacks beneath, her moves swift and resolute, like a warrior.
"Come with me," she said.
She reached her hand toward me, her gaze fierce, determination and anger burning deeper than I'd ever seen.
"I'll help you tear those cheating bastards apart," she said.
*****
The afternoon I got the ultrasound showing twins, the sun was shining bright.
Golden sunlight streamed through the living room's floor-to-ceiling windows, scattering warm patches across the floor.
I carefully set the thin sheet of paper on the coffee table, pinning it down with a crystal paperweight, terrified it might fly away.
It was Ethan and my third year of marriage.
I loved him. Ever since that first glance in college, I was all in, no regrets.
For him, I gave up my shot at a PhD, married him right after graduation, and became his full-time wife.
When he was starting his business, my parents handed over their life savings to give him his first startup capital.
Once the company took off, I faded into the background, my whole life revolving around him.
He said he liked coming home to hot soup and meals, so I learned to cook every kind of soup I could find.
He said work was stressful, so I kept the house spotless, making sure he never had to worry about a thing.
Everyone said I'd married well. Ethan was young, ambitious, and doted on me.
I used to think I was the luckiest woman alive.
Today, when I found out I was pregnant with twins, I couldn't wait to tell him the good news.
I called him, and he said there was an emergency at work and he'd be home late.
I believed him.
I even went all out, set up a candlelit dinner, bought new scented candles, wanting to give him the perfect surprise.
When I heard the door unlock, I was grinning as I carried the dishes out of the kitchen.
At the door, Ethan was hugging a woman.
I knew her. She was Madison White, his first love, the one he dated for four years back in college.
Word was, she dumped him for being broke and ran off with some rich guy.
What was she doing here?
She was wearing my slippers, wrapped in Ethan's suit jacket, curled up in his arms, sobbing like her world had ended.
And my husband, the man who always said I was the only light in his life, was gazing at her with nothing but tenderness.
The bowl slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor, soup splattering everywhere.
They finally noticed me.
Ethan's face flashed with panic, but it quickly shifted to a kind of tired determination I couldn't read.
Madison, like a frightened rabbit, burrowed even deeper into Ethan's arms.
"Liv, you're back," Ethan said.
His voice was calm, almost eerily so.
He helped Madison sit down on the couch, then walked over to me, not a hint of guilt in his eyes.
"Since you've seen it all, I'll say it straight," he said. "Let's get a divorce."
My ears were ringing, and I could barely make out what he was saying.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"I said, let's get a divorce," he repeated, his tone harder. "I can't forget Maddie. All these years, I've always felt like I owed her. Now she's back, and she's not doing well. I can't turn my back on her."
I stared at him, the man I'd loved for seven years, now a stranger, almost like a demon.
Owed her?
And what about everything I gave up for him?
And my parents' money?
"Ethan, do you even know what you're saying?" I was shaking all over. "We're married."
"I know," he said, nodding. He pulled a document out of the coffee table drawer and slid it toward me. "This is the deed to the apartment downtown. I've already signed it over to you.
"You've stuck with me for three years, that's not nothing. This house is your compensation."
My eyes landed on the document, then slowly drifted to the ultrasound report underneath.
The word "twins" stabbed at my eyes, making them ache.
I started laughing, louder and louder, until tears streamed down my face. The kind of laugh that sounds more like crying.
He was trading three years of my youth for a house, and throwing in the lives of my two unborn babies as a bonus.
What a deal. Real bargain, huh?
"Ethan, look at this," I said, my voice hoarse as I pointed at the ultrasound report.
He finally saw it, bent down, and picked up the ultrasound report.
His eyes widened, and for the first time, I saw him hesitate.
I thought maybe he'd feel a little reluctant, maybe even a hint of joy at becoming a father.
I was wrong.
He stayed silent for a few seconds, then looked up, his eyes even colder than before.
"Get rid of them," he said. "Maddie's health is fragile. The doctor said she probably won't be able to have kids again.
"We can't be so selfish."
In that moment, I swear I heard my heart shatter.
It shattered so completely, there was no way to ever piece it back together.