Chapter 5

As the light turned yellow, I hit the brakes, and a harsh screech of tires sounded from behind me.

The next second, the whole car lurched violently.

My forehead slammed into the steering wheel, and my wrist got jammed against it from the impact. Pain shot through me, and everything went dark for a second.

The guy from the car behind jumped out, banging on my window and cursing. "Do you know how to drive? Who slams on the brakes at a yellow light? Ever heard of rolling through?

"You slam the brakes whenever you see a yellow light without bothering to check your mirrors? You wanna get us all killed or what?

"Are you blind? You think you own the road? Stop whenever you feel like it? Who's paying for the damage, huh?"

I locked the doors, my hands shaking so badly that I could barely hold my phone.

Claire clutched her chest, her voice trembling. "Anna, I'm scared," she said.

I called Edward.

He picked up right away.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I could barely get the words out, my voice trembling. "We got rear-ended. The guy outside is yelling at us. I'm scared."

The first thing he asked was, "Is Claire okay? Did she get hurt?"

The whole car fell silent.

I looked over at Claire. She was stunned for a moment, then lowered her head.

"I hurt my hand," I said.

Edward acted like he didn't hear me. "Let me talk to Claire."

My throat tightened. "Edward, I'm in the car too."

He couldn't hide the blame in his voice. "Why weren't you more careful? She's still not well. She can't handle being scared like this," he said.

At that moment, all my fear vanished.

The guy outside wouldn't stop yelling.

I hung up on Edward and called the police.

But then Claire's phone rang.

She picked up, her voice soft and weak. "I'm okay. Please don't blame Anna. She's as shaken as I am."

I sat in the driver's seat, feeling my wrist start to swell and throb with pain.

But Edward's words hurt more than the accident itself.

Edward didn't call me again before the police arrived.

By the time everything was sorted out, I was a full hour late for work.

My boss saw the cut on my forehead and how pale I looked, and asked if I wanted to go to the hospital.

I shook my head because I knew I'd be all alone if I went to the hospital.

I grabbed a random band-aid, stuck it on my forehead, and walked into the meeting that was already in progress.

That night, after dropping Claire off at the apartment for Edward and me, Edward showed up soon after.

The first thing he did wasn't to check on me. He went straight into the master bedroom to make sure Claire hadn't been scared.

I stood in the living room, my wrist swollen and my forehead throbbing.

Half an hour later, he came out and glanced at my hand.

"Be more careful when you drive next time," he said.

I looked up at him. "If it had just been me in the car today, would you have cared?"

He frowned. "Anna, don't turn this into a competition for attention."

The words rang bitterly in my mind.

I looked at him and suddenly laughed.

So all my fear, my injuries, and nearly getting cursed out by strangers on the street were just me competing for attention in his eyes.

He seemed to realize he'd gone too far, and his tone softened a bit. "Claire just got scared, so I'll take care of her first. Deal with your wrist yourself. There's medicine in the house," he said.

With that, he grabbed his pajamas and headed to the shower.

He left his phone on the coffee table.

Suddenly, the screen lit up.

A hospital notification popped up. [Ms. Claire Evans, please remember to come in for your post-op check-up.]

I knew I shouldn't have looked.

But the screen was stuck on the photo gallery preview.

There was a photo of an ultrasound scan from Bristania. The image was so sharp that it almost hurt to look at.

I reached out and tapped on it.

Claire was nine weeks pregnant. The ultrasound image showed a tiny fetus, clear as day.

The date on the report was exactly one month before they returned home.

At the very bottom, in the blank space, there was a handwritten note. [Baby, Mommy and Daddy are so sorry.]

It was Edward's handwriting. After three years together in college, I could never mistake it.

I sat on the couch, my fingers cold as ice.

That day at the airport, her face was pale. It turned out it was not from jet lag.

She moved into the apartment supposed to belong to Edward and me, not because she was new here.

And Edward's care for her was never about friendship between classmates.

I remembered his first words from that crash-emergency call. He'd only asked if Claire was hurt.

He wasn't worried about her being weak.

It was because she'd gone through an abortion for him.

The water in the bathroom stopped running.

I put the phone back where it was.

Then I slowly slipped the engagement ring off my finger.

I'd worn that ring for five years, and it had left a faint mark on my finger.

I stared at that faint mark for a few seconds, then unlocked my phone.

I sent a message to the wedding planner first. [The wedding's off. I'll cover any losses.]

Then I opened the chat with my boss, Jack Garcia. [Any openings left at the Bristania office? I want in.]

A few minutes later, Jack replied. [Yes, we do. I believe in you. Bring your visa paperwork tomorrow.]

I set my phone down, and Edward came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.

He froze when he saw his own phone sitting on the coffee table.

"Anna," he said, his voice tight.

I looked up at him.

His face slowly darkened.

"Did you touch my phone?" he asked.

His voice was cold, as if he'd caught me red-handed, like I was some thief.

I stared at him.

The steam from the shower still hung in the air. His hair was damp, and he was wearing the pajamas I bought for him.

They were meant to be a couple's set, the matching ones I got for us. The other half was still folded at the bottom of the closet in the master bedroom.

As I thought about it now, it felt ridiculous.

I placed the ring on the coffee table.

The metal clinked softly against the glass, barely making a sound.

Edward caught sight of it, and his expression darkened.

"Anna, what are you getting at?" he asked.

I stood up. "Was the baby Claire aborted yours?"