The man who'd sworn to protect me and our child for a lifetime was now ready to end that child's life with his own hands.

For another woman.

I couldn't stand looking at that mask anymore.

"I'm tired," I said flatly. "I want to go home."

"I'll drive you—"

"No." I shook my head. "The surgery's coming up. You must have preparations to make. Go do what you need to do. I'll take a cab."

Something flickered in his eyes. Tenderness. Gratitude.

"Celine..." His voice dropped, reverent. "Marrying someone as understanding as you is the greatest blessing of my life."

If I hadn't seen that post.

If that college girl didn't exist.

Maybe—just maybe—the sincerity in his eyes would have moved me.

But now, meeting that gaze so full of love—

All I felt was the bitter taste of irony.

So love really could be faked. Perfectly. Completely.

I said nothing. Just turned and walked away.

But I didn't go far.

I slipped into a café on the ground floor of the hospital, ordered a coffee, and waited.

Minutes later, Edward emerged—white coat gone, civilian clothes on, moving with obvious urgency.

I set down my cup and followed.

He looked happy. Giddy, even. He walked and talked on his phone simultaneously, gesturing with his free hand, practically bouncing with every step. Clearly delivering good news to whoever was on the other end.

I trailed him to an upscale residential complex near the hospital.

The moment he reached one of the buildings, a girl came flying down the stairs and threw herself into his arms.

When I saw her face—

My eyes went wide.

Her?

It was her?

I'd been torturing myself trying to understand. Edward had loved me. Loved our child. Loved us enough to throw away his own life if he had to.

How could he suddenly have a mistress? How could he betray everything we had?

Now I understood.

Because of her.

The sight knocked the air from my lungs.

Everything clicked into place.

This was why Edward hadn't hesitated. Why one word from this girl was enough to make him demand I abort our baby.

I couldn't watch them anymore—couldn't stand seeing his arms around her, his smile meant for her.

I fled.

Back home, I collapsed onto the couch.

And sat there, unable to move, unable to think, for what felt like hours.

That girl's face kept flashing before my eyes.

And it made me realize—this was far more terrifying than I'd imagined.

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and made several calls in quick succession.