Chapter 1

1

It was the day of our prenatal checkup.

A fire broke out in the hospital.

Without a second thought, my husband abandoned me and carried his childhood sweetheart, Sylvie, out of the building.

I cried out behind him, begging him to save our baby.

He never looked back, leaving me to be swallowed by the thick smoke.

When I finally woke up, I touched my empty belly. My heart died right then and there.

But when I finally demanded a divorce, he knelt on the floor, begging for a second chance.

…

When I came to, the doctor told me with a heavy heart that the baby was gone.

I had inhaled too much smoke and suffered a nasty fall. I lost my little one while I was unconscious.

I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling in silence.

Maybe the baby knew his father didn't love him, so he decided to leave on his own.

I let out a bitter, hollow laugh.

In a way, this was a twisted form of mercy.

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a call from my husband, Hale, finally checking in.

"Sienna, where are you? Sylvie isn't feeling well, so I stayed behind to take care of her."

I stayed silent, the grief choking me.

He continued with a half-hearted apology.

"The situation was urgent, and the fire was spreading so fast. Sylvie was closer to me, so I grabbed her first. I saw the hospital bulletin saying no one was seriously hurt, so I figured you were fine."

My eyes burned with tears when I heard those words.

Because the official report said no one was hurt, he felt it was okay to leave his pregnant wife behind?

He just wanted an excuse to play hero for his little soulmate.

I didn't want to hear his lies anymore. I just whispered, "Let's divorce," and hung up.

I opened my social media and saw Sylvie's latest post.

The photo showed Hale's jawline from an angle that made it clear she was curled up in his arms.

The caption read: "I guess I'll always be your first choice."

This morning, Hale had insisted on coming to my checkup.

I was so happy, thinking he finally cared.

But after I got in the car, he drove straight to Sylvie's place, saying he was picking her up for her checkup too.

Sylvie was his childhood friend. They grew up like siblings. Even though it stung, I bit my tongue and tried to be the bigger person.

I never expected a fire to break out while we were waiting for the results.

And I certainly never expected that when I reached for his hand in terror, he would shove me away to grab Sylvie instead.

I screamed for him to save our child, but he ran toward the exit without a single glance back.

His silhouette was so cold, so determined.

I rested in the hospital for two days before I decided to head home.

During that time, Hale called me several times. I didn't pick up.

I saw his messages, but I didn't reply.

He probably just wanted to tell me to stop being dramatic.

Back at my parents' house, I was a princess. Why did I keep making sacrifices for a man who didn't care if I lived or died?

Hale's concern was all talk. If he actually cared, he would have found out which ward I was in.

His heart only had room for his fragile little friend.

On the day of my discharge, I stood in line to settle the paperwork.

A kind nurse saw me struggling and placed a cushion on a nearby chair, telling me to sit while she helped me finish the billing.

She was around my mother's age and had spent the last two days reminding me to look after myself.

"You can love whoever you want, honey, but you have to love yourself first," she'd said.

Her words made my chest ache.

She was right. If I didn't love myself, who would?

While she went to the pharmacy for my meds, I spotted two familiar figures across the hall.

Sylvie's belly was slightly rounded, and Hale was whispering something sweet to her, shielding her from the crowd with his body.

He was so protective, so tender.

To any outsider, they looked like the perfect, doting couple.

Suddenly, Hale seemed to feel my gaze. He turned, and his entire body went rigid.

"Sienna? What are you doing here?"

I let out a dry laugh.

"Hale, this is a hospital. What do you think I'm doing?"

My cold tone made his expression shift. He frowned, looking annoyed.

"Don't start with me. You've been throwing a tantrum for days. Did you seriously track me down here?"

"Sienna, is this really necessary?"

I was bracing myself for his lecture when the nurse returned with my medication. I ignored him and turned to leave.

When Hale saw the bags of medicine in my hand, shock flashed in his eyes.

He reached out and grabbed my arm. "Are you sick? Why didn't you tell me?"

I looked at him with pure disgust and sneered.

"Would it have mattered? I'm not as lucky as Sylvie. I don't have someone who drops everything to protect me."

I wrenched my arm away and walked out of the hospital without looking back.

Once home, I started packing.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I was so excited. I had bought so many baby clothes and toys.

Now, they were just painful reminders.

I packed up everything meant for the baby to donate to someone who actually had a future.

Then I packed my own things. It was pathetic―after six years of marriage, my entire life fit into one suitcase.

When I was done, I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.

I hadn't slept a full night since the fire. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Hale running away with Sylvie.

The pain in my chest was physical.

Hale and I met in college. After graduation, I ignored my parents' warnings and moved across the country to be with him.

And this was what I got for it. A whole lot of nothing.

Hale didn't get home until late that night.

He barged in and flipped on the lights, not caring that I was trying to sleep.

I had only just drifted off, and the sudden light made my head throb.

He didn't care. He started clattering around the bathroom, taking a shower as if I wasn't even there.

I sat up, my head spinning.

Hale walked out, drying his hair, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm going to pretend that divorce talk was just you being emotional. You know Sylvie's husband is out of town. I have to look out for her."

He spoke as if he was a saint.

"I'm off tomorrow. I'll take you to that fancy brunch spot you like. How about that?"

This was his classic move―slap me, then offer me a piece of candy.

I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"Hale, when are you going to stop lying? You're in love with Sylvie. Why are you still pretending?"