Chapter 4

I stumbled and caught myself on the couch.

But two years ago, that wasn't what he'd said.

Back then the company had just gone public, and I threw myself into his arms with the pregnancy test results in my hand.

"Congratulations. You're going to be a dad!"

He took the paper, glanced over it, and frowned.

"Kayla, having a baby right now does more harm than good."

He flipped the results over and started making quick tally marks in the blank space on the back.

"No money. Bad timing. We can't give a kid a good life."

"And you're not mature enough. You wouldn't be a fit mother."

"Bottom line," he finished the fifth set of tallies, then looked up at me, "we can't keep it."

I stared at the wide blank under the "harm" column and asked in a flat voice.

"So there's not a single good thing about keeping him?"

"There is." He looked at me, his eyes so calm it sent a chill down my spine. "It satisfies your selfish little wish to be a mother."

"And you don't want to be a father?"

"Not right now." He said it without a flicker of hesitation. "Besides, we're not married. I won't have a kid born a bastard."

A small spark of hope lit in me, and I looked up at him.

"Then can we register the marriage first? Have the wedding later, once we have money?"

He gave me a disapproving look.

"Kayla. The way things are now, I can't give you a good future."

I lay on the cold operating table, my tears soaking into the sheet.

He, meanwhile, was in Los Angeles with his new female assistant, watching her idol's concert.

The big screen caught the two of them kissing in the crowd, and the whole arena screamed and cheered for them.

His parents saw the clip, learned I'd lost the baby, and pushed him to marry me.

He knelt in front of me sobbing, slapping his own face, then produced a diamond ring.

"Kayla, marrying you is the greatest wish of my life. Will you marry me?"

But even so.

Because of the endless parade of amusing little stunts his female assistants kept pulling, the wedding got pushed back, again and again, for two years.

A cramping pain ran through my lower belly.

My heart felt like something was tearing at it over and over, and the pain buckled my knees.

"Abraham, why? Why couldn't our child be allowed to come into this world?"

I pointed at Clarissa, my voice shaking.

"Isn't her baby a bastard too?"

"Your stomach hurting again?"

He shook his head, exasperated.

"Kayla, you had that procedure two years ago. The aftereffects don't last this long."

"If this is your way of making a scene, then I like you even less for it."

He came over, bent down, and reached out to pull me up.

"Come on. Stop the act. Get up."

I slapped his hand away hard and screamed, hysterical.

"I'm asking you! Why does she get to keep her baby?"

He rubbed his nose, pressed his lips together, and said nothing.

"Kayla, honey, my baby isn't a bastard, you know."

Clarissa leaned in from the side and waved a little red booklet in front of my face.

"My husband and I already registered. We're legally married."

The three words on that red booklet, marriage certificate, swam until my vision went black.

I heard my own voice, stiff and numb.

"When did you register?"

Clarissa was all smiles, her young, full face unable to hide her smugness.

"Today. Right after we left the bridal shop, I dragged my husband down to register."

"He was going to be my husband anyway. I'm just claiming what's mine one week early..."

Her voice grew farther and farther away.

As if through a curtain of water, I couldn't make out a single word.

"Oh."

My lips twitched. I gave a small laugh and lowered my head.

"Congra... congratulations."

"Clarissa."

Abraham suddenly cut her off and cleared his throat.

"Weren't we going to Bali for the honeymoon? Go change."

"Okay, husband."

The two of them turned and went into the bedroom.

When they came out again, they were dressed and dragging a suitcase.

Abraham, his arm around Clarissa, walked to the door and glanced back at me.

"Before we get back from our honeymoon, I'd like you to move out."

The door slammed shut.

At the same moment, a message came in on my phone.

"Don't take what I said seriously. It was for the girl's benefit."

"The registration... I had no choice either. She said if we didn't register, she'd go get rid of the baby."

"Since it's done, might as well play it out. I'm just taking her out to see a bit of the world. Don't read too much into it."

"Relax. Before our wedding, I'll definitely register a divorce with her."

I stared at those few lines, my hand shaking so hard I could barely hold the phone.

I meant to press the screen off, but my fingertip slipped and dialed his voice call.

"Kayla?"

"Le... Lewis Gilbert."

"Is your anxiety flaring up again?"

I opened my mouth.

No sound would come out anymore.

"Kayla? Kayla!"

Lewis's voice went taut all at once.

"I'm coming to you."

I don't know how long it was.

In the dark, someone broke through the door.

I was lifted carefully into his arms, a warm palm slowly patting my back.

"It's all right now, Kayla. I'm here."

So familiar. Safe.

Two years ago, it was this same voice that talked me down off the rooftop.

I unclenched my jaw, my lips still trembling.

"Lewis, take, take me away."

"Anywhere. As long as it's not here."

And with that, I lost consciousness completely.

What I didn't see was the way his jaw tightened as he turned to the assistant behind him.

"As fast as you can, take over every last debt James Tech has."

The assistant blinked.

"You mean to... bring James Tech down."

Lewis gently brushed the sweat-damp hair from my forehead, his voice light.

"Do it."

The assistant lowered his head.

"Yes, Mr. Gilbert."

...

Bali. The airport.

Abraham stared at his chat thread with me and clicked his tongue.

"She hasn't answered? She always replies in seconds. How could she..."

He frowned and quickly sent another message.

"Is your stomach really bothering you? Should I send the family doctor over?"

Still nothing.

He suddenly remembered the way I'd been curled up beside the couch before he left.

For no reason he could name, unease flickered through him.

He started calling my phone.

On the third try, it finally connected.

But the voice on the other end was a man's.

"Hello? Is this Abraham James?"