Chapter 3

Julian's grip was so tight my knuckles turned white.

Ignoring my struggles, he dragged me out of the hospital and shoved me into his car.

The doors locked with a heavy click.

The ride home was completely silent.

The moment I stepped inside our house, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

In the corner of the living room stood the baby bassinet I had assembled with my own hands.

On the sofa was the hospital bag I had packed weeks ago.

Julian took off his coat and stepped forward to hug me, but I dodged him.

His arms hung in the air, and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Chloe, today was my fault."

"But I had no choice. Sienna's baby was breech. The delivery was highly risky. I couldn't just not be there."

His voice was incredibly calm, showing no remorse for being caught red-handed.

"She just gave birth. She can't handle any shock. And a newborn needs his father."

"You are in your third trimester now. Your pregnancy is high-risk. Getting a divorce right now will only hurt your body."

"Let's talk about the future after you safely deliver our baby, okay?"

I stared at his self-righteous face.

"Julian, do you think that as long as you're willing to sweet-talk me, I have to accept this disgusting situation?"

He frowned.

"Chloe, I will give you and our baby the best medical care. Private nurses, a newborn specialist. I have already arranged everything."

"All you need to do is focus on your pregnancy. Don't worry about anything else."

He packaged his stalling tactics as responsibility.

He wanted to keep both women and both children under his thumb.

I didn't argue. I turned and walked into the bedroom.

I pulled open the drawer and dug out our thick, old photo album.

Five years ago, he said he was on a business trip to Miami. But in the background of one photo, there was a corner of a pink dress.

Three years ago, on his Amazon account, he had purchased two identical pregnancy pillows.

One was shipped three days earlier than mine.

During my first trimester, he sent me a playlist of prenatal music. In the memo section, there was a tiny letter "S".

I had thought it was a work note.

Every page I turned brought a fresh wave of nausea.

Julian walked in with a glass of warm milk and set it on the nightstand.

"Chloe, stop overthinking."

"You have signs of threatened miscarriage. The medical bills for keeping this baby safe are going to be astronomical. You can't afford that on your own."

"For the sake of the baby, stop making a scene."

He was absolutely sure I couldn't leave him.

He was sure that reality and the baby would trap me forever.

I looked at him and said nothing.

That night, Julian went to sleep in the study.

I lay in bed, and my phone vibrated.

It was a video from an unknown number.

I tapped it.

In the video, Julian was cradling the newborn, whispering softly.

"Be good, sweetie. Daddy's here."

From behind the camera, Sienna's voice drifted in.

"Chloe, your baby isn't even born yet, but Julian is already calling himself Daddy to my son."

"When your baby finally comes, how much time and energy do you think Julian will have left for him?"

The video cut off.

My hands gripped the bedsheets.

A sharp, stabbing pain suddenly bloomed in my lower abdomen.

I clutched my stomach, cold sweat pouring down my back, soaking my pajamas.