Chapter 2

Over the next few days, Edward was visibly busier than ever. He left before dawn and came home late at night, always carrying an air of exhaustion and the lingering scent of tobacco.

He no longer clung to me the moment he walked in like he used to. Most of the time, we barely exchanged a few words.

He slept in the study.

To me, this was the perfect opportunity.

I kept up my act as the obedient one, getting up early to make his breakfast, and ironing his shirt and suit pants for the next day.

Sometimes, he'd give me a lingering look, as if trying to figure me out, but in the end, he never said a word.

He probably thought I was still mad about what he said that night.

That was fine. It was even better to let him think that way.

During this time, my morning sickness just kept getting worse.

I forced myself to keep it together while he was home, but as soon as he left, I'd be hunched over the toilet, throwing up so hard it felt like the world was spinning.

Olivia, the maid, noticed how my face was getting paler by the day. She hesitated a few times, wanting to ask if I was feeling unwell, but I always brushed her off with, "I just haven't had much of an appetite lately, probably caught a bit of a cold."

The day Edward left for a business trip, the sky was overcast.

The air was so stifling that it was hard to breathe.

I walked him to the door like always, fixing his tie for him.

He looked down at me, a complicated look in his eyes.

"What do you want as a gift?" he asked, his voice as cold as ever. "Make a list and send it to me."

I shook my head, forcing a smile. "No need. I'm waiting for you to come back safely."

He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes appraising me like I was something about to lose its luster.

Then he just nodded and turned to leave.

His tall figure disappeared into the elevator without a backward glance.

The day after his plane took off, I made my move.

I had already bought my ticket to Omerice. My brother, Michael, was there now.

After going bankrupt three years ago, Michael took what little money he had left and went to Omerice to start over from scratch.

Back then, the wisteria outside my window was still in full bloom. I remembered when I saw him off at the airport, he broke down in tears like a little kid, apologizing for not being able to give me a better life.

I picked out a few of the less flashy pieces from the jewelry and designer bags Edward had given me and sold them at a reliable second-hand luxury store.

I transferred most of the cash in advance to Michael's overseas account.

I kept the rest on a card for emergencies.

I didn't take a single thing from Edward's apartment, except for the little surprise growing inside me.

I destroyed my domestic SIM card and erased every trace of myself from social media.

After all that, I stood in the middle of the empty apartment and took a deep breath.

The air still seemed to hold a hint of Edward's scent, but what I noticed most was the crisp, exhilarating scent of freedom.

Goodbye, Edward. Goodbye, this mess that never should've happened.

The airport in Omerice was packed with people.

I pulled my suitcase along, looking around at the exit.

"Hi, Sophia," A familiar voice called out from nearby.

I turned toward the sound and saw a tall, familiar figure weaving his way through the crowd toward me.

It was my brother, Michael.

It had been three years since I last saw him. He'd gotten a bit tanner and a lot more solid. There was a rugged maturity and resolve in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Gone was the cocky, fallen rich kid I remembered.

"Michael," I called out. My nose stung, and I almost burst into tears.

Michael strode up to me, took my suitcase from my hand, and pulled me into a tight hug.

"You've gotten so thin," Michael said, his voice a little choked as he patted my back. "You must be wiped out from the trip. Come on, let's go home."

He meant a cozy house out in the suburbs, complete with a small garden. The neighborhood was quiet, and the air felt fresh and crisp.

The place wasn't big, but it was neat, tidy, and felt truly lived-in.

"Michael, looks like you're really doing well these days," I said, glancing around.

I was honestly happy for him.

Michael poured me a glass of warm water and sat down across from me, a sheepish smile on his face. "Just getting by, you know. At least I haven't starved. I'm nowhere near a big shot like Edward, but keeping the two of us going? That's more than doable."

I held the cup in my hands, stayed quiet for a moment, then looked up at him and said slowly, word by word, "Michael, I'm pregnant."

Michael's hand jerked, spilling hot water and making him grimace. He hissed, didn't even bother to wipe it off, just stared at me with wide eyes, his voice all over the place. "Whose is it?"

But as soon as he said it, he realized how pointless the question was. His face darkened in an instant. "That bastard Edward's?"

I nodded.

"Damn it." Michael suddenly shot to his feet and slammed his fist down on the wooden coffee table with a heavy thud.

The glass on the table rattled from the impact. "I'm going back right now to make that bastard pay. How dare he treat you like this? Damn it, I never should've—"

"Michael, stop." I grabbed his arm in a panic, my voice trembling. "Calm down. H-He doesn't know."

Michael froze, staring at me in disbelief. "He doesn't know? Sophia, y-you never told him?"

I lowered my head, my fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of the cup. "I don't want him to know. Michael, I don't love him anymore, I swear. All I want now is to live a peaceful life with you and the baby."

Michael looked at me, his eyes filled with guilt and heartache.

He sat back down and reached out, gently ruffling my hair, just like he used to when we were kids.

He let out a heavy sigh, his voice rough. "This is all on me. If I hadn't messed things up back then, if I hadn't run the company into the ground, you wouldn't have had to suffer like this."

He paused, then his tone grew firm. "But Sophia, trust me. I'm back on my feet now, and most of the debts are already paid off. From here on out, we're going to be just fine. I'll protect you and the baby."

"Yeah." I nodded hard, my eyes stinging with tears. "I believe you, Michael."

Life in Omerice was peaceful, almost too quiet.

Michael was out the door at dawn and back late at night, busy with his business, so I spent most days by myself.

I picked up some basic cooking, watered the flowers and plants in the yard, and every now and then, I'd swing by the local library for a few books.

Morning sickness finally started to let up, and I was eating better, too.

My belly was starting to show, just a little more with each passing day.

As I gently stroked my belly, feeling the tiny life growing inside me, a kind of peace and contentment washed over me, something I'd never felt before.

I thought this peace would last.

However, that afternoon, I was in the kitchen making dinner when the doorbell suddenly rang.

I figured it was Michael, probably forgetting his keys again. He'd been so busy lately, always leaving things behind.

I wiped my hands, muttering, "Michael, you forgot again?" as I hurried over and pulled the door open.

The smile on my face froze instantly, and my blood ran cold.

It was Edward.

He stood there in a perfectly tailored black trench coat, standing tall with that cold, forbidding look on his face.

His deep eyes, like two bottomless, icy pools, were locked right on me.

He looked thinner, with a faint stubble on his chin. Gone was the sharp, polished look he always had.

My mind buzzed, and my first instinct was to shut the door.

But as the door was halfway closed, a long, strong hand slammed against it, stopping it cold.

He was holding it so firmly that I couldn't move it an inch.

"Sophia?" he said, his voice even colder than the winter wind in Omerice.

With barely a flick of his wrist, he shoved the door wide open and strode right in.

I found myself backing away, practically forced by the sheer force of his presence.

Before I could even process what was happening, he was already on the couch, snatching up the thin blanket I'd used for my nap. In one rough motion, he wrapped me up from head to toe, like he was bundling up a rebellious caterpillar, then bent down and slung me right over his shoulder.

"Edward, what the hell are you doing? Let me go," I yelled, completely stunned by his sudden move. I started flailing and kicking on his shoulder.

Hanging upside down like that made my stomach churn. I almost threw up right then and there.

He completely ignored my struggles. With his free hand, he gave my butt a not-too-hard, not-too-soft smack.

I slapped him in my panic, the sound crisp and clear, then I froze.

I heard his deep voice, laced with barely contained fury, right by my ear. "Trying to run off before your debt is paid? Sophia, not a chance."

He hoisted me up and marched straight out.

Just then, Michael pulled up in his car. He had just parked when he saw the whole scene.

"Edward, let go of her, you bastard." Michael's eyes were bloodshot as he yelled and rushed over.

Edward didn't even break stride. He just shot Michael a frosty look, his tone laced with annoyance. "Michael, you'd better stay out of my way."

In no time, he shoved me into a black sedan parked right outside the yard.

The door slammed shut with a bang, sealing me off from him, and from Michael's furious yelling outside.

Edward looked seriously annoyed. He dumped me onto the back seat, climbed in himself, and locked the doors.

He didn't start the car right away. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, fished out a cigarette, and lit up.

Bluish-white smoke curled around him, blurring his handsome but grim features.

He took drag after drag, filling the car with the harsh stench of smoke, making me cough uncontrollably.

After what felt like forever, he crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray, turned to me, and gave me an icy, piercing stare.

His gaze made my skin crawl, but I stiffened my neck and glared right back at him, furious.

Edward's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. His voice was rough, laced with sarcasm. "Why did you run?"

I snorted, forcing my voice not to shake, "Because I'm bored. Edward, I've played enough. Is that a problem?"

I kept up the bravado, taunting him. "Didn't you just go along with me being your lover at first? Now it's my turn to get tired of it. That's only fair, isn't it?"

Edward let out a cold, incredulous laugh at that.

Suddenly, he leaned in, his long fingers clamping down on my chin so hard it felt like he might crush my bones.

"But I—" he leaned in, his warm breath washing over my face, thick with tobacco and something darkly dangerous. "I'm not done with you yet,"

I stared into his bloodshot eyes, and out of nowhere, a ridiculous thought flashed through my mind.

He didn't look like a man chasing down a runaway mistress. He looked more like a jilted husband who'd just been left behind.

I must be crazy.

Even with his first love by his side, he still came to see me. Wasn't he tired? Didn't he worry he couldn't handle it?