Chapter 4

Oscar shot me a look in the rearview mirror. "You seriously want to walk home in this kind of rain? Sit tight. We'll drop Amy off first."

His voice was pure command, no room for discussion.

The car cruised right past the intersection without a pause, taking us even farther from home.

I closed my eyes helplessly. All my struggles and protests felt so pale and pathetic.

After nearly twenty more minutes, we finally pulled up to Amelia's place.

It was outside the entrance of an older apartment complex.

"Mr. Moore, Mrs. Moore, I'm really sorry for the trouble!" Amelia said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"Mr. Moore, I'm still a bit confused about the data for that new patient with coronary heart disease we admitted this afternoon," she added.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, casually bringing up the topic as if it were just a passing thought.

She stood by the car door, holding her umbrella, but lingered there, clearly not in any hurry to leave.

Oscar didn't rush her. He took the umbrella she handed him, stood out in the rain himself, and went over a few last points with her.

Rain streamed down his jawline, soaking the collar of his expensive shirt, but he didn't even notice.

It wasn't until Amelia finally seemed satisfied that she smiled, nodded, and dashed into the building. She turned back to give a big wave before disappearing inside.

Oscar watched her disappear into the stairwell before finally getting into the car.

As he started the engine, he instinctively wiped the rain from his face, glanced in the rearview mirror, and explained, "Had to check something in her medical records with her."

Oscar tugged at the corner of his mouth, too lazy to even give a sarcastic look.

The drive back was surprisingly smooth. The car was dead silent.

The smell of churros mixed with jasmine lingered in the air, making my stomach twist with cramps.

Oscar seemed to feel the tension, too. He cleared his throat softly. "You must be starving. I'll order you some takeout when we get back. Anything you want."

His tone sounded like he was trying to ease the tension.

I didn't answer. I stared out the window at the world speeding by, washed cold and desolate by the heavy rain.

The silence lingered until we reached the doorstep.

Oscar opened the door and went in first, shrugging off his soaked coat and wearily rubbing his brow.

I followed him into the entryway.

The warm, dry air enveloped me, but it brought no real warmth.

I slipped on my slippers and took a deep breath, that breath seeming to carry all the weight and chill I'd been holding inside.

Then, right there in the doorway, I looked at Oscar's weary profile and said, clear and unusually calm, "Oscar, let's get a divorce."

The air seemed to freeze instantly.

Oscar's hand froze mid-rub, and he slowly turned his head. His face was filled with disbelief, as if he'd just heard the most absurd joke imaginable.

"Winona." Oscar's voice shot up, thick with exhaustion and the sting of being accused.

He said, "Have you lost it? Just because I bought her a hot drink and churros while I was drenched out there?

"She just sat in the car a bit longer. Weren't you there too? Are you really going to bring up divorce over this? Do you even realize how long I was stuck in surgery today?"

My heart throbbed painfully under Oscar's angry words, the dull ache spreading out from the blow.

I steadied myself, hand on my swollen belly. My voice was cold and precise. "Was that really just a moment?

"A ten-minute drive home turned into over an hour, and I had to sit in the back seat, watching you two making eyes at each other the whole time!

"You gave me the silent treatment for three days just because I took a sip of lemonade in your office, claiming I was ruining your spotless space! What happened to your neat freak ways?

"And those rules you've been so strict about for nine years? Now she gets to eat and spray perfume in your car, and suddenly, she can do whatever she wants!

"Oscar, all your so-called principles were just rules for me, but for her, you bend them without a second thought."

My words cut deep, like knives, making Oscar's face darken with anger.

His eyes were drawn to my swollen belly.

In that moment, the fury in his gaze shifted, replaced by irritation and a sense of ultimatum.

"Winona!" Oscar jabbed a finger at my belly, his voice sharp with warning. "Calm down. Look at yourself. There's a limit to being unreasonable!

"Don't say I didn't warn you. If you go through with this divorce, life will be anything but easy for you and the baby!"

His threats didn't stir my heart in the slightest. Instead, they washed over me like cold water, extinguishing the last bit of warmth I had left.

I even pulled my lips into a faint, icy smile.

My voice was barely a whisper, but my eyes were cold and cutting. "Since I don't even want you anymore, why would I keep your baby?"

Her words struck Oscar like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly dumbfounded.

Oscar stood frozen, mouth hanging open, unable to process what he'd just heard. Shock, confusion, and a raw panic he'd never felt before churned in his eyes.

I didn't even look back. I strode straight into the bedroom and slammed the door with a loud bang.