Chapter 2

I couldn't bring this baby into the world.

I couldn't let my child grow up in a home where their father was perpetually absent.

I couldn't bear the thought of my child growing up hearing me make excuses over and over again: "Daddy is busy. Daddy has to take care of someone else. Daddy doesn't have time for you."

That wouldn't be fair to the baby.

I wiped my tears and sat up.

A few new texts popped up on my screen from Logan.

"Evie, I'm so sorry. I promise I'll be there next time."

"What kind of gift do you want? A purse? A necklace? That designer dress you liked last week? I'll buy it for you."

"I'll call you as soon as I'm done."

I didn't reply.

At two-thirty in the afternoon, I stood outside the clinic.

The summer sun was brutal, baking the pavement bone-white.

Wearing a loose linen dress and flat shoes, I walked inside alone.

Check-in, waiting room, consultation.

The doctor was a woman in her forties with wire-rimmed glasses. She looked at my chart, then up at my face.

"The fetus is developing perfectly. Have you completely thought this through?"

I nodded.

"Does your husband agree to this?"

"Yes."

I lied.

The doctor gave me a long look, but didn't pry further.

She went over the surgical procedure, explained the risks and postoperative care, and handed me the consent forms.

Holding the pen, my fingers trembled.

Right at that moment, the baby fluttered inside my womb.

Biting my lower lip until it nearly bled, I signed my name.

When I lay down on the operating table, I stared at the surgical lamp overhead. It was blindingly, piercingly bright.

The anesthesiologist said softly, "Just relax. Take a nice, deep sleep."

My mind suddenly drifted back to the first time Logan took my hand.

It was in the stairwell of our college library. Rain was pouring outside. He looked at me nervously and said, "Evelyn, I really like you. Would you give me a chance?"

I said yes.

He was as ecstatic as a little boy. He sprinted out into the rain like a maniac, completely drenched when he came back, yet he held the only umbrella we had squarely over my head.

Back then, I thought he was the one I would spend my entire life with.

My eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

I closed my eyes.

When I woke up, I was in a recovery room.

My lower belly felt hollowed out, as if a part of my soul had been scooped away with it.

A nurse came by to check my vitals and asked if someone was picking me up. I told her no.

She looked at my chart, opening her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself.

"Get plenty of rest when you get home. No heavy lifting, no strenuous activity, and take your antibiotics on schedule."

I nodded.

"Are you sure you can manage on your own?"

"I'm sure."

By the time I walked out of the clinic, dusk had settled over the city.

In the warm summer twilight, the sidewalks were bustling with commuters heading home.

People carrying groceries, parents holding their toddlers' hands, couples walking arm-in-arm.

I stood on the curb, completely lost, not knowing where I should go.

In the end, I went back to our apartment.

Our college graduation photo was still hanging on the living room wall. He was wearing his black cap and gown, and I was in a simple white dress, smiling so brightly my eyes crinkled.

On the living room sofa lay the ergonomic pregnancy pillow he had bought for me.

He had said it was great for lower back support, so I could sleep comfortably on my side.

I sat on the couch, staring blankly into space for hours.

Then, the front door lock clicked.

Logan's voice drifted in: "Careful now. Watch your step."

I looked up.

Logan walked in first. Trailing right behind him was a woman.