Chapter 2

The next morning, my best friend Jenna came to the clinic to pick me up.

The moment she walked into the room, she asked, “Where's Brandon?”

“With his first love,” I replied calmly.

Jenna's face darkened instantly, her voice dripping with rage. “Doesn't he know you had a procedure? You're not going to forgive him so easily this time, are you?”

Her words made me freeze for a second.

She was right. In all our years together, I was always the one who gave in first.

If Brandon took just one step toward me, I would happily sprint the remaining ninety-nine steps to reach him.

I had completely lost myself.

Only yesterday did I finally realize that letting go wasn't that hard. Brandon wasn't that important after all.

No matter how much you love someone, you shouldn't destroy your own dignity.

...

When I got home, Brandon still wasn't back.

Strangely enough, I didn't feel disappointed or angry. Instead, I felt a wave of relief.

Wasn't this the expected outcome anyway?

Brandon called while I was packing my suitcases.

“Nora, Chloe wants some of your homemade chicken soup. Make a batch and bring it over.”

Hearing his casual, demanding tone, I wondered just how low he thought of me. Did he really expect me to cook for Chloe the day after my procedure?

“I'm busy. Order takeout for her.”

With that, I hung up, ignoring whatever he was about to say next.

After packing all my belongings, my body felt weightless, as if I were floating on a cloud.

I opened the fridge, but there was nothing inside except energy drinks and beer.

I found a cup of instant ramen in the pantry, forced down a few bites, and went straight to bed.

In the past, whenever Brandon was out with Chloe, I would stubbornly leave every light on in the apartment, waiting up to confront him.

Tonight, I turned off every single light.

Because my body was still recovering from the procedure and I had spent the day packing, I was utterly exhausted. My sleep was unusually deep. I only realized he had come home when I saw his laundry in the bathroom the next morning.

Just as I sat down for breakfast, Brandon walked in from his morning jog, a towel draped around his neck.

“Why didn't you wait up for me last night?” He walked straight to the dining table.

Without looking up, I continued eating. “I was too tired, so I went to sleep.”

“You used to wait for me no matter how tired you were.”

I finished my bowl before speaking slowly. “That was before.”

Brandon's expression darkened.

Was he upset because I didn't scream and pick a fight over Chloe like I used to?

Shouldn't he be relieved instead?

After all, whenever we argued in the past, he looked at me with pure disgust, as if I were a screaming shrew in a marketplace.

Brandon changed into the button-down shirt I loved the most, carrying himself with effortless elegance.

“I booked tickets to Italy. Haven't you always wanted to go? Let's take a trip before the baby arrives. Make sure you submit your vacation request at work today.”

Did he never read the messages I sent him?

I let out a faint smile. “The baby is gone.”

Brandon's brows furrowed tightly as he grabbed my wrist. “What do you mean? What do you mean the baby is gone?”

I stared at him calmly. “Exactly what I said. The baby is gone.”

Brandon slammed his glass onto the floor, shattering it into pieces. He glared at me coldly.

“Nora, I tolerated every single one of your tantrums, but how could you use a child to threaten me?”

“That was a living human being! You just got rid of it?”

Listening to his accusations, I let out a soft, mocking laugh.

During the three months of my pregnancy, he skipped every single ultrasound appointment, claiming he had band rehearsals or urgent orchestra matters.

The day the doctor told me the baby's heartbeat had stopped, Brandon claimed he had an emergency at the theater and told me to go alone.

Later, when I called him, I heard Chloe in the background telling him to be careful on the ladder.

I had hung up in silence and scheduled the procedure myself.