Chapter 3

When Charlotte got back to the villa, she spotted Grace's car parked out front.

Standing next to the white Porsche, Charlotte couldn't help but feel amused.

So this was what Edward wanted me to come back for?

As she opened the door, laughter drifted out from the living room. Grace was sitting on the couch, with Edward across from her. The two of them were chatting, and the coffee table was set with fancy pastries and fruit Charlotte had never seen before.

"Charlotte, you're back," Grace said with a smile as she stood up. "I was just about to leave."

"Stay a little longer," Edward said.

Grace glanced at him, her eyes soft. "No, I've got plans tonight. I'll come by another time."

Grace walked up to Charlotte with a smile and said, "Edward said your marriage is just a contract, and it'll be over in three months. Charlotte, thanks for everything you've put up with these past three years."

Charlotte froze, caught off guard.

She glanced at Edward, searching his face for any sign of emotion.

Edward stood by the couch, calm as ever, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary.

"You told her?" Charlotte asked.

"Grace has the right to know," Edward said.

She had the right to know.

So, was their contract marriage, him using me, three years of taking the fall for someone else, all just to make the woman he loved have the right to know?

Charlotte suddenly laughed.

"No need to thank me," Charlotte said to Grace, "Just getting paid, that's all."

Grace looked surprised at how calm Charlotte was, but quickly nodded. She replied, "Okay, I'll head out now. Edward, no need to see me out."

With that, Grace left.

The living room went quiet.

Charlotte stood there, looking at Edward. He looked right back at her, his eyes calm, no guilt, no awkwardness, nothing at all.

"There's something I need to tell you, too," Charlotte said.

She took a folded medical report from her pocket and placed it on the coffee table.

Edward glanced at it, his brows drawing together in surprise.

"I'm pregnant," Charlotte said, "Seven weeks."

Edward's face darkened.

He picked up the report, studied it for a moment, then looked up at her, asking, "What do you want?"

What did I want?

Charlotte wondered if she had heard him wrong.

"This is your child," she said.

"I know," Edward said, putting the report back on the table. "So? What are you trying to get out of this? More money? Or are you hoping to stay?"

Charlotte met his gaze and saw pure disgust and suspicion staring back at her.

He suspected me.

He thought I got pregnant on purpose, that I was trying to tie him down with a baby, that I was the kind of woman who'd stop at nothing to get my way.

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed, hurting so much she could hardly breathe.

"You think I did this on purpose?" Charlotte asked.

Edward didn't say a word, but his silence was all the answer she needed.

Charlotte laughed, tears threatening to spill. "Edward, we've been married for three years; how many times have you actually spent the night with me? That night, you were drunk. You held me, calling out her name. And then you..."

"Enough," Edward said, cutting her off, his voice cold as ice. "I reviewed the footage from that night. You were the one who brought me into the room, and you stayed."

Charlotte was frozen, unable to react.

He checked the security footage.

He actually went that far.

"So what now?" Charlotte shot back. "You think I took advantage of you? That I threw myself at you?"

Edward looked away, not meeting her eyes.

Charlotte had a sudden, bitter clarity.

She stood there, staring at him. He suddenly felt like a stranger.

Truth was, he was always a stranger.

She had been foolish, thinking that after three years together, even without love, there'd be some sense of familiarity. But in his eyes, she was just a tool, a substitute, a disposable imitation he could toss aside whenever he felt like it.

"I'm not keeping this baby," Charlotte said, her voice steady. "Don't worry, I won't use this against you. In three months, I'll be gone."

With that, she turned and headed upstairs.

Just as she reached the turn in the stairs, she heard Edward call out from behind her, "Charlotte."

Charlotte stopped in her tracks.

"Grace is the only one I've ever truly waited for," Edward said quietly.

Charlotte didn't turn around.

"I know," Charlotte replied. "I've always known."

That night, Charlotte locked herself in her room.

She sat by the window, staring out into the night, her hand resting on her stomach.

I was sorry, baby.

It was my fault you came into this world, but nobody was waiting for you. But...

Charlotte closed her eyes, and tears slipped down her cheeks.

I couldn't bear to part with you.

You were all I had left in this world.

Early the next morning, Charlotte made her way to the hospital.

She checked in at the OB-GYN department and took a seat in the waiting area. All around her were couples, husbands sitting beside their wives, faces full of hope and excitement. Charlotte was the only one without a partner by her side.

"Charlotte, please come to Room 3," the nurse called out.

Charlotte stood up and walked into the room.

The doctor was a kind, middle-aged woman. After glancing over Charlotte's report, she smiled and said, "Your baby is healthy. Congratulations. Is there anything you want to ask?"

Charlotte sat in silence for a moment, then asked, "If I want a medication abortion, what are the requirements?"

The doctor hesitated, looking at her. "Are you sure about this?"

Charlotte didn't answer.

The doctor sighed. "Medication abortion only works if you're less than seven weeks pregnant; the sooner, the better. You're just in time. But I have to warn you, it's really hard on your body, and..."

"Do it," Charlotte cut her off.

The doctor looked at her, her expression complicated. "Are you sure about this?"

Was I really sure about this?

No. How could I ever be sure about something like this?

But did I have any other options?

Edward didn't want the baby, and raising it alone? I had no job, no income. In three months, when I left, the money would be enough for a fresh start. But if I had a child...

"I'm sure," Charlotte replied.

The doctor studied her for a moment, then finally nodded, saying, "Let's start with an ultrasound to check the gestational sac's position."

Charlotte took the slip and left the exam room to get her ultrasound.

As she lay on the exam table, she stared at that tiny speck on the screen, so small, yet it already had a heartbeat. The ultrasound technician pointed at the screen and said, "See? That's the gestational sac, that's the embryo, and that's the heartbeat."

A heartbeat?

That little thing already had a heartbeat.

Charlotte's eyes grew misty.

After the ultrasound, Charlotte brought the report back to the exam room. The doctor looked it over and said, "The conditions are suitable for medication abortion. I'll prescribe the medication for you, and you'll need to come back in three days for a follow-up."

The doctor typed into the computer, and the printer printed out a prescription slip.

Charlotte looked at the prescription, her eyes lingering on the names: [Mifepristone, Misoprostol.] Two strange names, but they were about to erase a life that had just begun.

She stood up and walked out of the exam room.

The hallway was bustling with people—pregnant women with their bellies full, young moms cradling their babies, and husbands carefully supporting their wives. Every face was lit up with hope, the kind that came with waiting for a new life.

But Charlotte was the only one there, clutching a prescription for an abortion, about to erase the tiny life growing inside her.

She made her way to the pharmacy, waited in line, and collected her medication.

The pharmacist handed her two boxes of pills, giving her the routine instructions in a matter-of-fact tone. She said, "Take the first box tonight, and the second one tomorrow morning on an empty stomach.

"You might experience some abdominal pain and bleeding afterward; that's normal. If you have heavy bleeding, come back to the hospital right away."

Charlotte took the pills and slipped them into her bag.

As she walked out of the hospital, the sunlight hit her hard. Standing on the steps, watching the crowd pass by, she suddenly had no clue where to go now.

Should I go back to that cold villa?

Or maybe to that old house, where nobody was waiting for me anymore?

Charlotte's phone buzzed; it was a message from Sophie: [Charlotte, how did your checkup go? Are you okay?]

Charlotte stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard for a long time. Finally, she typed: [I'm fine. Everything's okay.]

She turned off her phone and flagged down a taxi.

"Take me to the river," Charlotte said.