Chapter 3

3

"Babe, are you mad at me？ I know I've been busy lately. It's almost the end of the year, let's go on a trip."

Lincoln leaned against me like he had no bones.

His grip didn't loosen at all as he kept rambling.

"A client told me about this hot spring resort. They have a massive Ferris wheel. Let's go there and relive our college days."

I froze. The chat logs flashed in my mind like a horror movie. My chest felt like it was under a ton of bricks.

My eyes stung. I stomped on his foot and shoved him back with all my strength.

"I'm not going. If you love that place so much, go there yourself！"

Lincoln stumbled back, clutching his foot, his face twisting in anger.

"What the hell is wrong with you this morning？ If you're sick, go take your meds. You're such a buzzkill."

He turned around and headed for the bed, grabbing his phone.

"Women going through menopause are such a headache," he muttered.

My logic told me this wasn't the right time to blow everything up.

But then I saw them―faint, red scratch marks across his back.

They looked like tiny monsters laughing at my misery.

The final string in my mind snapped.

I grabbed a heavy glass perfume bottle from the vanity and hurled it at his head.

"You think I'm old？ You think I'm washed out？ How dare you betray me after ten years, you piece of sh*t！"

I yanked up my shirt, pointing at the bruises on my stomach from the hormone shots.

"I did this for you！ For this family！ Do you have any idea how much I suffered while you were out screwing around？"

Lincoln clutched the back of his head, a moment of guilt crossing his face.

But when his eyes landed on my stomach―no longer tight or smooth―disgust took over.

"Did I force you to try for a baby？" he sneered.

"When we were young, you said you wanted a career. Did I stop you？ You waited until you were ancient and couldn't produce. Now you want to blame me？"

"If you weren't so selfish and career-obsessed, my son would be in elementary school by now. You failed as a woman."

"If I wasn't such a nice guy, who would want a broken hen who can't even lay an egg？"

I stared at him, paralyzed by disbelief.

There was no love left in his eyes, only pure, unfiltered loathing.

I started laughing. My five years of sacrifice were a total joke.

Anger and grief surged through me, and I lunged at him, swinging wildly.

"Lincoln Sterling, how could you do this to me！"

The next second, he shoved me hard. I flew back and hit the floor.

He stood over me, looking like a monster.

"You're insane！ Keep acting like a psycho and see what happens！"

I curled up on the floor, clutching my stomach. I couldn't tell if the pain was from the fall or my shattered heart.

Tears blurred my vision. Lincoln was saying something else, but his voice sounded like it was underwater.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Lincoln rushing toward me in a panic.