Zayn frowned, his voice firm. “If Natalie wants it, give it to her. As for your apology—you’re not going anywhere until she decides to accept it.”
I froze, stunned. My arms suddenly felt empty.
When I looked up, I saw Natalie turning the urn in her hands, a mocking smile playing on her lips.
Forced to kneel under the scorching sun for three hours, I could barely stand afterward.
The first thing I did when I got up was print out a divorce agreement—then head straight to the hospital for an abortion.
Looking at the tiny embryo that had almost begun to form, a sharp pain twisted in my chest.
Once I calmed down, I gently placed it into a foam box and arranged for a courier to deliver it.
When I arrived at Zayn’s office, he was smiling tenderly—watching Natalie shape little clay figures.
I still remembered the time I’d brought him chips while he was working; he’d flown into a rage, scolding me in front of all his employees.
He even ordered that both I and my dog were never to step foot in his office again.
Clutching the divorce papers tightly, I walked up to his desk, unsure how to begin.
But before I could speak, he signed it without even looking up, thinking it was just another document from his secretary.
Relief washed over me and I turned to leave quietly. But Natalie suddenly looked up, a sly, mocking smile curving her lips. “Mrs. Flynn, are you here to see how us regular people live?”
Zayn finally looked up and saw me. When my eyes met his—so distant, so utterly devoid of love—my chest ached faintly. “I just wanted to ask… could you give that box back to me?”
A flash of malice flickered in Natalie’s eyes as she toyed with the clay figurine in her hand, pinching it over and over.
“Oh, that box? I already threw it away,” she said with mock cheerfulness. “The garbage truck should be coming to collect it right about now.”
My breath caught. Without a second thought, I turned and ran.
By the time I stumbled home in panic, the garbage truck was just about to leave.
I rushed forward and stopped it, explaining my situation breathlessly.
After rummaging through the garbage for nearly three hours, I finally found the urn.
My hands trembled as I thanked the driver, clutching the urn tightly against my chest— terrified to let go ever again.
The relief of recovering what I’d lost steadied my trembling heart for a moment. But when I opened the box to check inside, it was empty.