He's probably forgotten why I was so set on marrying him, on having a kid.

Back when we were fresh out of college, Mike was trying to get his startup off the ground. Money was tight, and the stress gave him a stomach ulcer. I ended up singing in a bar at night to pay his hospital bills. One stormy evening, after dropping dinner off at the hospital, I rushed to work and slipped on the slick streets.

That night, I miscarried our first child.

I lost the baby before I even knew I was carrying it.

I had a loving family once, but it all went up in flames. After the fire, no relatives wanted to take in a "useless" burden like me. By the time I got to the orphanage, being older and a girl didn't help my chances of getting adopted. I spent every holiday there, surrounded by noise yet utterly alone. All I could do was dream about a future with a loving husband and adorable kids—maybe then the holidays would feel different.

But that accident seemed to push my dream even further away.

The doctors warned that my body wasn't well-suited for pregnancy and the accident had done serious damage. Trying to conceive again would be even tougher. In pursuit of that dream, I underwent countless treatments and saw numerous specialists.

Mike knew all about the sacrifices I'd made, but now, he was using my deepest desire as leverage to make me yield.

"Mike, I don't need that anymore."

A sneer flickered across his face.

"Don't need it? Lynn, cut the act. I know what you're after."

He always thought my "acting" was award-worthy.

To look after him, I had passed up major roles for quick-pay gigs - commercials, community theater, you name it.

Being a bit player meant no stunt doubles, no extra care. If a scene required danger, I was the one who faced it, always ending up with bruises or worse. Once, I even fractured a bone, but I kept it from Mike. I didn't want to worry him, nor did I want his pity.

Whenever he noticed, I'd laugh it off, claiming it was just makeup for a new role.

I figured, a little hardship didn't matter when we were together.

He bought every word, even marveled at how "real" the makeup looked. Thinking back, he probably never cared whether I was actually hurt or not.

During those tough days, he needed something or someone to lean on—whether it was a plant, a dog, or a cat. Anything that could talk back and share the burden was a plus. That someone turned out to be me.

Being a sharp businessman, he knew how to exploit vulnerabilities. As his closest confidant, he knew exactly what I longed for and how to manipulate me.

But now, I didn't need his manipulations. I gently touched my belly, feeling the new life within. From now on, it would be just us, our little family.

I was about to counter Mike's accusations when suddenly, the door to the stairwell burst open.

It was Jessa.

Jessa didn't seem surprised to see me. With a polite smile, she extended her hand, "Hey, you must be Lynn, right? Mike said you'd help with the trial? Thanks a bunch for that!"

I looked away, giving her the cold shoulder.

"Lynn! Jessa's talking to you. What's with the attitude?" Mike's voice was sharp, his face clouded with displeasure.

"Sorry, I'm just not great with new faces," I shot back sarcastically. "Not everyone gets my favor. That's earned, not given."

"Mike, does this mean Lynn doesn't want to help with the trial?" Jessa looked up at Mike, her voice laced with worry. "Maybe we should drop it. Didn't the doctors say the meds might cause dizziness, nausea, or even severe bleeding? It'd be rough on Lynn if she's not up for it. Let's not force her."

Jessa's complexion was ghostly, and Mike instinctively drew her close, scolding me, "Lynn, can't you just be reasonable for once? Jessa's condition can't wait. She's the one who's sick; can't you just cut her some slack?"

He was livid. In the old days, I'd have apologized first and then tried to cheer him up.

But now, all I wanted was to leave before they could push me further.

I tried to get past them to push the stairwell door open, but Mike stepped in front of me.

He grabbed my arm and pushed me against the door. "Help Jessa with the trial, or I swear you'll regret it!"

He thought I'd sacrifice my dignity for whatever scraps he was throwing my way.

I was ready to tell him off for dreaming so big, but just then, Brown showed up with the meds.

"Mr. Miller, the medication's here."

The medicine bottle Brown held looked like the kiss of death.

I wrenched free from Mike's grasp and instinctively stepped back.

I hadn't even brushed against Jessa when she suddenly crumpled next to me, collapsing to the floor while crying out, "Ouch!"

"Lynn! Enough already!" Mike shoved me to the ground as if my mere presence was a threat to Jessa's safety.

"Jessa, are you alright?" Concern was written all over Mike's face as he checked on her.

It didn't make sense to me.

If Jessa was truly the one for Mike, why hadn't they just been together from the start? Why drag me into their mess?

If he really loved her that much, why settle for a stand-in like me for six years?

Mike helped Jessa to her feet and dabbed away her tears before turning on me, fuming, "Lynn! What do you want from me? I've already agreed to marry you, to give you a kid!"

"I've told you, I don't need it. I won't take the drug, and I won't marry you! Can't you understand my words?"

"Not taking it? You don't have a say in this!"

Mike gestured to Brown, who opened the door, and several bodyguards swarmed in, pinning me down.

"Brown, force the medicine on her!" Mike commanded.

Despite my desperate struggles, how could I match the strength of those bodyguards? I blurted out in terror, "Mike! I'm pregnant! You can't make me take the medicine!"

Mike scoffed as if I'd just cracked a poor joke. "Really? That's your excuse? We've always been careful. You think you can trick me with that line?"

But even the best precautions aren't foolproof. Mike was adamant, convinced I was just buying time.

Brown unscrewed the cap, his voice softening, "Ms. McCullough, just stop resisting. Take the medicine and this will all be over."

Every fiber of my being was shaking; I was screaming inside with fear.

Gathering all my strength, I yelled, "Mike! Our baby is already two months along! If you don't believe me, check the pregnancy report in my pocket! I'm not lying!"

Brown hesitated and looked at Mike, "Mr. Miller, if what she's saying is true, then..."

Mike's eyes were icy as he mocked me, "Then let's abort it."

"Mike! It's your child! I've gone through so much to have this baby! Please, don't make me take the drug! I don't want to lose it!" My voice was pleading, desperate.

But my cries and struggles fell on deaf ears, as no one seemed willing to listen.

With the help of the bodyguards, Brown forced open my mouth and poured the medicine down my throat.

The drug slithered down like a lethal serpent, tightening its grip on my insides.

The pain was unbearable, tearing through me.

Shaking with agony, it felt like forever before the guards finally let go. I slumped to the ground, drained of all strength.

Mike scooped me up, his lips pressing a kiss to my forehead, "There, there. Don't worry, whatever happens, I'll still marry you. The wedding will go on. You'll have the child you want. Just rest now."

His touch was revolting, and I felt nauseous. I tried to push him away, but my arms were too weak to move.

He started to carry me toward the hospital room.

But he hadn't taken more than a few steps when a sharp pain ripped through my belly, a warm flow trickling down, hitting the floor.

The last thing I heard was Jessa's scream, "Blood! Oh my God, there's so much blood!"

Mike scrambled to stop the bleeding, and the pregnancy report fell from my pocket.

Brown quickly picked it up, his voice trembling, "Mr. Miller, she... she's actually pregnant!"