Chapter 5

These past few days, the dragging pain in my lower abdomen had become more frequent.

I'd spent four hours making chicken soup, packing it in a thermos, planning to take it to the hospital to eat after my checkup.

But at the intersection, on impulse, I had the driver change course to Dominic's studio.

The receptionist saw it was me and respectfully let me through.

I carried the thermos and walked to his private consultation room.

The door wasn't fully closed, leaving a small gap.

Vivian's soft voice drifted out: "Dominic, you spent fifty million to buy back the Blackwell estate. Was it really just to help me?"

I stopped in my tracks.

"Don't overthink it," Dominic's voice was flat.

Vivian laughed softly, her voice even softer: "Then... does this count as you preparing our wedding home?"

Inside went silent for a few seconds.

Dominic didn't deny it, only saying quietly: "Just live there for now."

I looked at the heavy thermos in my hands and suddenly felt that these days of restraint and understanding were absurd to the extreme.

I raised my hand and pushed open the half-closed door.

Both people inside looked over simultaneously.

Vivian was leaning against the edge of the desk, Dominic standing in front of her, the distance between them long past the safe boundary of social interaction.

"Miss Harper..." Vivian looked startled when she saw me, suddenly stepping backward.

She wore thin high heels. Her foot caught and she fell backward.

"Ah!"

Her hand happened to land on a decorative crystal on the desk, the skin breaking, a trace of blood seeping out.

"Vivian!"

Dominic's expression changed instantly.

His body moved faster than his reason, rushing past me, even bumping my shoulder heavily in his haste.

I stumbled backward from the impact, my lower back hitting the door frame, the thermos in my hands falling to the floor.

Sharp pain spread rapidly from deep in my abdomen.

My face turned deathly pale instantly. I slid down along the door frame, sitting on the floor.

A few steps away, Dominic was half-kneeling on the ground, carefully protecting Vivian in his arms.

He held the handkerchief I had embroidered with his name, pressing it firmly against Vivian's palm, which had only a minor scrape.

After doing all this, he turned his head, looking at me with extremely guarded and disgusted eyes.

But the moment he saw the spilled chicken soup on the floor, his body froze abruptly.

His fingers holding Vivian's wrist moved involuntarily.

His gaze moved from the soup up to my pale face, a panic he himself didn't notice flashing in his eyes.

"Rain..." He instinctively released Vivian, wanting to stand up.

But Vivian cried out delicately at that moment: "Dominic, it hurts so much."

His knee, which had just lifted, knelt back down again.

"Rain, do you have to make a scene at a time like this?" He lowered his voice, his tone revealing guilty anxiety and coldness.

I looked at his posture protecting Vivian.

The pain in my abdomen had made even breathing painful.

But I didn't cry out in pain.

I knew that the man before me would no longer feel heartache for my tears.

Crying out would only make me seem more pathetic.

I braced myself against the wall, slowly and shakily standing up.

I looked at the spilled soup on the floor, then at Dominic.

"I'm sorry." I swallowed dryly, my voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "I dirtied your floor."

I didn't look at him again. Clutching my aching stomach, I slowly walked out of the studio.

The moment I walked out the door, I thought I heard Dominic call my name.

I didn't look back.

A warm flow trickled down my thigh, washing away five years of relationship completely clean.