My family moved to a smaller two-room apartment in the suburbs. Mom and Dad were no longer busy all the time. Instead, they opened a small clinic.

It was only after growing up that I realized the change had come because Dad's business had failed, and we couldn't afford to live there anymore.

The envelope's contents pointed to one thing—Ian's father, James Sadler, had caused all this. I couldn't imagine how Mom and Dad would react if I were to bring Ian home one day and introduce him as James' son.

I knew nothing about trickery in the business world, but years of reading romance novels taught me that the Sadlers were my parents' sworn enemies.

My head spun when I got up from the couch, probably because I'd been seated for too long. My abdomen hurt a little, too. I checked the date and realized my period was coming soon.

Ian was away from home; I didn't know when he would return.

I packed my things and hired a moving company to send them and me home. Once I arrived home, I lazed around while waiting for graduation day to come. I also took the opportunity to cure my heartbreak.

I texted Ian on WhatsApp. "Let's break up, Ian. Don't come to me or my dormmates. I just don't want to continue anymore—think of me as a jerk. I don't want to see you anymore. I wish you well."

Then, I blocked him everywhere without waiting for a reply. After that, I texted everyone in my dormitory's group chat and told them Ian and I had broken up.

My graduation dissertation went smoothly, but I didn't eat and sleep well in the two weeks leading up to it. So, I lost a lot of weight.

Mom thought I was stressed because of my dissertation and kept encouraging me. She also cooked various delicious dishes for me. I was the only one who knew my period was over a week late.

This made me anxious. I ran to a pharmacy several miles away from home to buy a pregnancy test. To be safe, I bought one test from each brand.

As I sat on the toilet bowl and stared at the pregnancy tests before me, all showing positive results, I was stunned.

Why had something as stereotypical as getting pregnant after a breakup happened to me?

Still, I decided to take the honest route. That night, I told my parents about the pregnancy. Before doing so, I asked Sasha and her family to join us at home.

When they entered the house, my three-year-old niece, Natalie Johnson, ran to me and rubbed my belly. She said happily, "There's a little boy in here, Aunt Sadie!"

I was taken aback, as were my parents and Sasha. Children had the sharpest instincts.

Sasha was the first to snap to her senses. She asked, "Did Nat just say you're pregnant, Sadie?"

Everyone's eyes landed on the pregnancy tests that I laid before them. No one said anything.

Dad was the first to break the silence. His lips trembled with rage as he snapped, "Where's the little bastard? Does he know about this? Are you two going to marry?"

"We broke up on the day I came home," I answered.

He was so angry that he had to pinch himself to keep from fainting. Fortunately, I was allowed to keep the child after pleading desperately.

Because of the accidental pregnancy, I didn't sign up for an internship with any hospitals. Instead, I followed in Sasha's footsteps and started working at our family clinic.

After 20 years, we'd gone from living in the suburbs to being closer to the city center. The clinic had also gone from being less than 500 square feet to having two stories. We had almost ten doctors on the roster; we were more like a small private hospital than a clinic.

We had a family of doctors, so I was well cared for throughout my pregnancy.

Still, accidents would always happen. For instance, the premature rupture of the membrane led to me going into labor earlier than expected.

When I woke up after the C-section, I noticed the nurse who came to check on me gave me an odd look. I tugged on Sasha's sleeve and asked what had happened.

She rolled her eyes at me, the look in them telling me she didn't want to be known as my sister.

"You kept mumbling Dr. Sadler's name while you were conked out. Don't tell me you were dreaming about him because he's handsome."

"Dr. Sadler?"

"Ian Sadler, the anesthesiologist during your surgery."

I hurriedly asked whether he heard me. Sasha merely gave me a look, which was enough to explain everything. I silently cursed, accidentally tugging on my sutures in my agitation. I cried for Sasha to give me painkillers.

Sasha pushed the baby to me and asked whether I had a name for it. I thought about it for a long time, ultimately settling on Neo Gray. Neo represented a new beginning, which was what I wanted. "His name will be Neo Gray."

"Alright, then. I'll go get his birth certificate settled, so you can call the nurses if you need anything. Mom went home to pack your things."

Once Sasha was gone, Ian came. "Doesn't your husband have anything to say about the child taking your surname?"

"I'm widowed," I said.

He gave me a dark look and asked whether Neo was his. I didn't want our families to have anything to do with each other anymore—digging up the dark truth and the bad blood wouldn't do us good. So, I told him he wasn't Neo's father before shutting my eyes.

Ian didn't say anything else. He looked at Neo before pretending to check on my painkillers. Then, he left.

Fortunately, Neo's newborn face was still crumpled and wrinkly, so there was no telling who he resembled yet.

…

I had to be hospitalized for a week. During that time, Ian would occasionally appear at the entrance to my ward and glance at me. Then, he would leave.

He happened to be at the door when Keith Holt came to visit me. I asked, "What are you doing here, Keith?"

"I heard from Dr. Gray that you'd given birth, so I came to see how you were doing," he answered.

I was surprised to see Keith. He was one of the doctors working at my family's clinics and four years older than me. I knew he had feelings for me, but there wasn't room in my heart for anyone else. I'd rejected him several times, yet here he was, in my ward with a bouquet of roses.

Ian stood silently behind him, his gaze focused on the roses. When we were still together, I would buy some roses every weekend to decorate the apartment. I would tell him they were a symbol of our love.

…

Keith came to visit daily for a few days. Each time, he would happen to run into Ian. The more Ian saw of him, the deeper his scowl became. However, he would just tell me to get some rest before leaving.

The day before I was discharged, I received a phone call from an upscale sanitorium. The young woman on the other end of the line told me sweetly that my room had been disinfected and that their staff would be at the hospital to pick me up at the agreed time.

I was lost. I hadn't made any such arrangements.

"Mr. Sadler arranged this for you, Ms. Gray."

Ian?

I clutched my phone and hesitated briefly before unblocking Ian's familiar number. I called him.

He picked up, saying, "DeeDee."

That was my nickname. My family and Ian were the only ones who called me that. My heart trembled when I heard him say that.

When we were still together, he loved holding me and calling my name, especially when he was aroused. The affectionate way he called my name made me tremble all over.