Chapter 2

Zachary was the city's renowned surgical prodigy. Patients he'd saved would come to the hospital to praise his skills.

When I wanted to become a travel blogger, my family disagreed. After fighting with my eldest brother, I got into a car accident. It was Zachary who saved me. He decisively performed surgery on me right in the ambulance, saving my leg.

He later became my attending physician. Back then, he was gentle as jade, yet his cheeks would flush slightly whenever he looked at me, and he'd bring me breakfast every day.

Because of his shyness, even after I was discharged, he never worked up the courage to ask for my contact information.

The next time I ended up in the hospital was for appendicitis. Zachary had prepared several surgical plans, explaining the risks of each one to me.

Later, I passed by his office and overheard his conversation with a colleague.

"Miranda Holmes's surgery was already assigned to me. Why did you suddenly take it over? I've done thousands of these minor procedures, okay?"

But Zachary told his colleague word by word: "I want Miranda Holmes's surgery. Nothing can go wrong!"

That was the moment my heart began beating for Zachary.

And now? He moved me to a picnic blanket and performed an abortion on me outdoors, completely disregarding cross-specialty surgery protocols and environmental hygiene issues.

That night, I lay in the tent with tears streaming down my face. Zachary was at a loss, wiping away my tears again and again. "Miranda, Miranda, don't cry. We'll have another child. I'll stay with you tonight. Don't be afraid—there are no wild animals on this island."

He kept pecking kisses on my face, each one bringing damp warmth, trying to dissolve my sadness. But how could the pain of losing a child disappear with just a few kisses?

I suppressed the nausea churning in my stomach and didn't move.

Before the lights were even off, screams and sobs came from the tent next door. "Don't come near me! Stay away!"

Zachary looked at me with difficulty, hesitating. After a final scream erupted from the neighboring tent, he suddenly stood up and left.

"Miranda, wait for me. I'll be back."

After the moon shyly hid itself away, a fierce sound suddenly burst from next door: "Zachary, be gentle!"

"Keep it down. Miranda's asleep. This is the last time. I only love Miranda."

"Zachary, love me again, love me once more! You owe me this..."

Keira whimpered and moaned. I don't know what she did, but Zachary let out a muffled groan. "Fine, one last time. This is the last time!"

Then came a series of explosive sounds, as if celebrating my miscarriage.

Endless "last times." I didn't know whether to cry for my lost child or my lost love.

I lay in the tent, my whole body in pain. I tried curling up to ease it, but it was useless.

I crawled out of the tent bit by bit. Just a few more hours, and I could go home. But I felt so sorry for my unborn child. I would make them pay.

Early the next morning, when Zachary emerged from her tent, I was sitting at the entrance of mine watching the sunrise. Seeing me, his face filled with panic.

"Miranda, Keira was too scared last night, so I slept with her. Don't worry—I only love you."

Zachary took off his jacket and draped it over me, looking concerned about me catching cold.

Keira didn't wake up until noon. She yanked the jacket off me and tossed it to Zachary, saying, "Zachary, I'm hungry. Let's have barbecue. But we don't have anything to start a fire with. What should we do?"

"I know! We'll use her clothes to start the fire!" Keira asked and answered her own question, then pointed at my skirt, about to step forward and take it off.

This time, Zachary stood firmly in front of me. "No! Miranda just had an abortion yesterday!"

"Why not? In prison, they used my clothes to start fires. Why can't we use hers?"

Keira knelt on the ground, muttering repeatedly: "When they stripped my clothes to start fires and made me bark like a dog, where were you? Why do you always help her? Who's going to help me?"

"I want my dad back!"

Hearing this, Zachary felt another stab to his heart. Keira's father was his lifesaver. To protect Zachary from an angry patient, he'd been stabbed through the heart and couldn't be saved.

From then on, Zachary had always taken care of Keira.

He softened again.

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