It was the same place I had once suggested to Vincent, only to be turned down with an excuse.
A wave of nausea hit me suddenly.
In that instant, something clicked in my mind.
The next day, I went to the hospital early in the morning.
Staring at my blood test results, the doctor said, "Congratulations, Ms. Miller. According to the results, you're 13 weeks pregnant—three months along."
I remained silent for a moment.
"Please schedule me for an abortion."
In the early years of our marriage, Vincent couldn't get enough of being close to me.
We both desperately wanted a child.
Despite the years passing and no issues on either side, we just couldn't make it happen.
Now that we were divorcing, the baby decided to show up.
Well, too bad for the baby, coming at such a time.
As I was leaving the exam room, I saw Vincent and his new girlfriend, Cameron Portman, waiting at the entrance.
My grip on my bag tightened involuntarily.
I thought, "So, Cameron is pregnant while we're still married?"
Cameron immediately hid behind Vincent as soon as she saw me, as if one more step from me would mean her doom.
Vincent's eyes turned cold. He was probably thinking I was stalking them.
"What are you doing here?"
Before I could answer, he added, "Mia, let's part on good terms. Cameron's health is delicate, and your presence could easily scare her."
Hearing that confirmed my suspicion.
"Look, I was here first. And this is a gynecology office—your little girlfriend isn't pregnant, is she? Vincent, don't forget we're still married."
I turned to leave, but someone called my name from behind.
I turned to see a strikingly handsome man in a white coat walking straight toward me, ignoring Vincent's icy stare.
Vincent asked, "Who is he? How did you meet?"
Charles Xavier approached me and asked about my recovery.
I smiled and said, "Thanks to you, Dr. Xavier, I'm almost walking normally now."
Vincent suddenly moved in front of me, gripping my shoulders.
"What recovery? You only had minor abrasions, didn't you? Why do you need rehab?"
Vincent had only heard from his secretary about my injury and assumed it was minor. He never considered that it might be serious.
If he had paid attention to how long I'd been hospitalized or noticed my walking posture, he'd have realized it was more than a minor scrape.