But the very next day, the factory fire broke out. I'd rushed in to save him and been burned in the blaze. That fire took our unborn child from me, along with any chance I'd ever have of becoming a mother.
My fingers curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. I stared at Eugene, unblinking, like a defendant waiting for a verdict.
His voice came out hoarse and strained.
"Rose, this child... it's not meant to be. Maybe they were never supposed to be born."
The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. But what came next nearly sent me to the floor.
"The truth is... Sylvia is already carrying my child."
"Three months along. In our last life, I didn't find out until after she died."
"This time, I'm going to make it right for her and the baby. I'm going to marry Sylvia and make sure her child is born safe and healthy."
"Our child... even if you had it, they'd only ever be illegitimate."
The air left my lungs. My vision blurred, and for a moment I thought I might pass out.
I bit down hard on my lip. The taste of iron flooded my mouth.
Word by word, I said, "Fine. In this life, we go our separate ways."
The fire this time around had been contained quickly. A few million dollars' worth of equipment was destroyed, but thankfully there were no casualties. My arm had still been burned, but the doctor said with proper care, it might not even scar.
I looked down at my hands, pale and nimble and whole. The tears came anyway.
Eugene made no effort to hide where his loyalties lay. He was practically glued to Sylvia's bedside.
Colleagues and staff flooded my phone with messages. Texts. Candid photos taken on the sly.
He'd pulled strings to get her moved into a VIP suite. He'd taken leave from work and stayed with her around the clock. He wouldn't let anyone else help. He bathed her himself, set up a private kitchen in the hospital, cooked her meals, and fed her by hand.
The Eugene in those photos was patient and tender in a way I had never once seen directed at me.
The bitterness rose in my chest despite everything.
My coworkers were livid. The group chat exploded.
"What is Mr. Henson thinking? His own wife got hospitalized saving his life, and he doesn't even visit."
"Some intern assistant faints from a little smoke, and suddenly he's playing full-time nurse?"