All eyes were on me. Their silent stares burned into my skin, suffocating me with judgment and pity.

Trying to salvage what little dignity I had left, I chose to give in and quietly return to my room.

With a sudden surge of anger and helplessness, I threw the album onto my desk and headed back straight to the ER. Work was the only thing keeping me together at that time.

But as the hours ticked by, the toll of skipped meals and emotional exhaustion began to weigh on me.

By the late afternoon, I found myself gripping the edge of the desk at the nurse’s station, my knuckles white as waves of nausea and dizziness rolled over me.

The nurse at the station glanced up from her paperwork, her brows furrowing in concern. “Is there anything I can help you with, Dr. Amelia?” she asked, her voice soft and worried.

I forced myself to straighten, shaking my head even as my legs felt unsteady. “I’m fine,” I lied, plastering on a smile that felt more like a grimace.

Her expression did not change, her sympathy evident. “You’ve been overworking yourself, doc. Please take a break.”

I brushed off her concern with a weak wave of my hand. “No worries,” I said, my voice thin. “I’ll feel better after some medicine.”

The nurse hesitated, but eventually nodded and returned to her work.

However, before I headed toward the medicine cabinet, determined to grab something for my stomach, the world seemed to tilt and sway, and the next thing I knew, I was falling.

Suddenly, I dreamed of Evelyn. Her image filled my mind. Her perfect smile, the soft-spoken words I had once believed were genuine.

But it turned out, behind that polished mask of kindness was a woman who saw an opportunity and seized it.

Actually, I had always been aware of Evelyn’s presence, even from the first time I met Liam.

It was during one of my late-night shifts as an intern at the hospital three years ago.

The Emergency Room was bustling, as it usually was, when an ambulance arrived with a patient suffering from a critical gunshot wound.

“He’s losing too much blood,” a paramedic yelled.

“Get me a 16-gauge IV and prepare him for surgery!” I barked, adrenaline coursing through me.

As he was scheduled in the operating room, the name of the patient was finally revealed, Liam Carlisle.

I learned that he was a prosecutor, infamous for being cold and unyielding when it came to criminals.

Apparently, his shooter was one of those criminals—a prisoner enraged by the harsh sentence Liam had recommended to the judge.

I remember thinking, ‘This man’s life is dangerous.’ His world seemed shrouded in peril, radiating a kind of intensity that warned others to stay away.

After the surgery, I visited his room for a post-op checkup. His condition was stable, though his piercing blue eyes followed me every time I walked in.

“Dr. Amelia,” he said once, his voice still hoarse from the anesthesia. “Do doctors always look this serious, or am I just lucky to have one who never smiles?”

I raised an eyebrow at his attempt at humor. “If you’re well enough to crack jokes, Mr. Carlisle, you’re well enough to cooperate with your recovery plan.”

He chuckled, wincing slightly from the pain. I did not think much of it at the time, chalking it up to his personality.

It was during one of these visits that I met Evelyn for the first time.

“You must be Dr. Amelia,” she greeted me with a warm smile. “I’m Evelyn, Liam’s...friend.”

Friend. That word had struck me as odd, even then. The way she lingered at his bedside, her fingers lightly brushing against his hand, suggested there was more to their relationship.

As a woman, I could not ignore the way she looked at him. Evelyn liked Liam. That much was clear.

And honestly, the two of them looked like a perfect match. She was a lawyer, and he was a prosecutor. Their worlds aligned seamlessly.

However, the day before Liam was discharged from the hospital, he suddenly sat up in bed, wincing but determined as I did the last check-up.

“Amelia,” he said, his voice steady despite his injuries.

“Yes, Mr. Carlisle?” I replied, not looking up from my notes.

“Stop calling me that,” he said with a smirk. “It’s Liam. And I want to tell you something.”

I glanced at him, startled by the serious look in his eyes.

“I like you,” he said bluntly. “I’ve liked you since the first moment I saw you in the ER. Even when I was in pain, all I could think about was how kind and determined you looked. I want to get to know you, Amelia.”

My jaw nearly dropped. I had not seen that coming. Yes, he had joked around with me during his recovery, but I had dismissed it as banter.

“But Mr. I mean, Liam,” I stammered. “You...you don’t even know me.”

“Then let me get to know you,” he said, his eyes holding mine.

Despite my initial hesitation, his persistence won me over. Over the following weeks, Liam pursued me relentlessly, breaking down the walls I had built around my heart. I fell in love with him and when he proposed to me, I said yes.

Through him, I also grew closer to Evelyn. She had seemed so supportive of our relationship, always smiling and encouraging. I felt foolish for ever thinking she had feelings for Liam.

At least, that was what I thought back then.

However, then I realized my thought, my intuition was not wrong.

“Amelia, wake up!” a voice called out urgently, shaking me from the fog of unconsciousness.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the harsh hospital lights. My professor stood over me, her face etched with worry.

After making sure everything was alright, she was advising me to skip my night shift that day and rest.

I nodded weakly, feeling grateful that there was still someone who cared. “Thank you, Prof. Sorry for bothering you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

After being discharged from the observation room, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and checked it.

My heart sank when I saw the screen light up with dozens of missed calls from Theodore’s daycare.

My hands trembled as I called back, dread gnawing at me with every ring.

The voice on the other end answered quickly, filled with urgency. “Mrs. Hawthorne, we’re so sorry to disturb you, but Theodore has developed a high fever.”

My heart dropped. “A high fever?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“We’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon,” the attendant explained. “When we couldn’t get through, we called Theodore’s father—the number listed as secondary on the registration form.”

“And?” I asked, already knowing the answer would hurt.

The attendant hesitated before continuing, her voice tinged with discomfort. “He just answered coldly and said, ‘Take him to the doctor. Don’t bother me with that problem again.’”

Tears welled in my eyes as anger and heartbreak washed over me. Even when our son was sick, Liam refused to care. He was too busy playing the doting partner to Evelyn and her child.

“I’m coming right now,” I said quickly, grabbing my bag.

“Actually,” the attendant continued. “We’ve already brought Theodore to the hospital where you work. He’s being examined by a pediatrician right now.”

I rushed to the pediatric section, my heart racing with worry. When I arrived, I spotted the daycare attendant waiting near the entrance. She looked relieved to see me and immediately came over.

“Thank you so much,” I said, gratitude pouring out of me. “I’m sorry for the trouble, and I’ll reimburse you for the travel expenses.”

She waved her hand dismissively, smiling kindly. “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Hawthorne. We just wanted to make sure Theodore got the care he needed.”

Just then, I heard a familiar voice. “Amelia,” someone called gently.

I turned and saw Dr. Nathaniel Reed approaching, a warm yet concerned expression on his face.

He was a pediatrician and an old friend from university. His calm presence was a sharp contrast to my spiraling thoughts.

“Nathan,” I breathed. “How’s Theo? How’s my son?”

Nathaniel placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and gestured for me to follow him into the examination room.

“Amelia, it’s going to be alright,” he assured me. “His fever isn’t too high, and it seems like a simple viral infection. I’ll run some tests just to be sure, but there’s no need to panic. He’s in good hands.”

I let out a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension ease from my chest. “Thank you, Nathan,” I whispered, my voice breaking slightly as I tried to keep my emotions in check.

He offered me a small smile. “You know I’d do anything to help you and Theo. Just take a deep breath, okay?”

I tried to steady my breathing as I watched him work.

Despite the situation, his calmness was reassuring, a quiet pillar of strength I had not realized I needed.

Nathaniel had always been like that.

Back in university, we often ended up in the same classes, working on projects together or staying late in the library to study. He was the kind of person everyone liked—kind, dependable, and always willing to lend a helping hand.

Some of our mutual friends used to tease me about dating Nathaniel. “You two would make the perfect couple,” they would say, nudging me playfully.

But I had always laughed it off, dismissing the idea.

To me, Nathaniel was my safe space, a friend who never judged or pressured me. I valued his presence too much to risk losing it over something as fragile as romance.

Perhaps that was selfish of me, but Nathaniel never seemed to mind. He was also one of the few people that knew about my marriage with Liam.

So, I could not help but feel a deep gratitude for his presence in my life.

Nathaniel turned to me again, holding Theodore gently as he spoke. “He’ll need some rest, so let him be under my supervision for three days. I promise you he will be okay after that.”

Those words brought a small, shaky smile to my face.

“Thank you, Nathan,” I said again, meaning it more than ever.

After moving Theodore to the ward and watching him finally sleep peacefully, I let out a sigh of relief.

The sight of his small chest rising and falling rhythmically eased the weight on my heart, if only slightly.

Quietly, I stepped out of the pediatric room. My chest burned with anger and frustration as I walked through the hospital halls toward Liam’s room.

Earlier, I had sent him a scathing message, cursing him for ignoring the daycare attendant’s call and letting Theodore suffer.

But unsurprisingly, there was no reply—just silence. I had no choice but to confront him in person.

It did not matter whether Liam considered Theodore his legitimate son or dismissed him as a mistake. The fact remained, Theodore was his son, and he deserved his father’s care.

It was not just for show that I had listed Liam’s number as the emergency contact at the daycare.

As I reached the door and pushed it open, I yelled, “Liam, Theodore is two years old. He’s sick right now with a high fever, and you didn’t even care to answer the daycare’s call! What kind of father are you?”

He glared at me, his patience clearly waning. “I’m not his father,” he said, “Stop bringing him into my life. I won’t entertain this anymore.”

The world around me seemed to stop. His words echoed in my ears, each one a dagger stabbing into my chest.

I took a step forward, my hands trembling. “Liam,” I said, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation, “How can you say that?”

“What kind of bullshit are you talking about now?” I snapped, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief.

I could handle Liam not recognizing me as his wife. I could endure his coldness, his rejection.

But this? Denying Theodore, the child who was the very embodiment of our love? That was a line I could not accept.

Liam’s face twisted with rage as he reached for a paper on the bedside table and flung it at me. The page fluttered through the air before landing at my feet.

“Evelyn found this evidence on my study desk at home,” Liam spat, his voice filled with venom. “Apparently, I had investigated you both before—but I forgot about it thanks to the accident. She helped me piece it together.”

I bent down and picked up the paper. As my eyes scanned the document, I saw it was a DNA test—one that claimed Liam and Theodore shared no genetic relationship.

Before I could even begin to process the absurdity of the claim, Liam’s voice cut through my thoughts like a blade.

“Did you the one who made me get into an accident so I’d forget about this?” he accused, his tone sharp and cold.

“Liam,” I said, my voice trembling with restrained anger, “I would never cheat on you, let alone betray you for this kind of bullshit.

“Open your eyes! Theodore has your blue eyes and your ginger hair. Isn’t that enough to prove that he’s your son?”

My hands shook as I clenched the paper tightly, crumpling it in my fists.

But Liam did not waver. His expression remained hard, unyielding. “Amelia, I trust that DNA test more than your lies. So, stop disturbing me.”

He turned his head away, as if he could not even stand the sight of me.

My anger boiled over, and I stepped forward, throwing the crumpled paper back at him. It hit his chest and fell to the bed, but he did not flinch.

“Wake up, Liam!” I yelled, my voice raw with emotion. “What else do I have to do to make you realize Evelyn’s lies?”

The sound of my raised voice must have reached Evelyn because the door swung open, and she sauntered in, her face the picture of mock concern.

“Amelia,” she said sweetly, her voice laced with false sincerity, “all this time, I thought you approached us because of Theodore. But apparently, you had other ideas. I should have listened to Liam and stayed away from you.

“What do you want actually? Is that all for money? Or are you intentionally asking Liam to take responsibility for your illegitimate child?”

Her words were like gasoline on the fire, igniting my fury even further.

I turned to her, my eyes blazing. “You’re unbelievable, Evelyn. You’ve manipulated Liam, forged evidence, and now you stand here acting like you’re the victim? Do you have any shame at all?”

Evelyn took a step closer, her expression shifting to one of wounded indignation. “I don’t need to manipulate anyone, Amelia. Liam trusts me because I’ve always been honest with him. You, on the other hand, seem to thrive on deception.”

I laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humor. “Honest? Is that what you call this? Twisting a man’s mind while he’s vulnerable, erasing his memories of the life Liam and I built together? That’s not honesty, Evelyn—it’s cruelty.”

Evelyn, as always, played her part perfectly. Instead of guilt or explanations, she let her crocodile tears flow, masking her venomous actions under the guise of innocence.

“Amelia,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincing, “why would I ever do such a thing? Your accusation is going too far, Amelia.”

Her words were calculated, slicing through me with precision. But what stung the most was Liam’s reaction.

His cold, indifferent gaze settled on me as he said, “Amelia, this is your workplace. How far are you planning to take this insanity? Until the entire hospital knows about it?”

Their accusations hit me like a thousand daggers, piercing every part of my being.

Before I could respond, Evelyn walked to the door, opening it wide enough for the curious passersby outside to catch a glimpse of the confrontation. She was ensuring I had no place to hide.

“Amelia,” she said with a soft tone like an angel, “just leave gracefully and stop humiliating yourself, okay?”

I stood frozen in place, the weight of their combined cruelty making it hard to move.

I turned my gaze toward Liam, hoping for some flicker of the man who had once fought for me, who had always stood by my side.

But he remained silent, his back to me, staring out the window as if I no longer existed.

Tears spilled freely down my face as I finally found my voice. “Don’t beg me for forgiveness when you get your memory back, Liam,” I said, my tone laced with raw emotion. “You’re the one throwing everything away with your stupidity, not me.”

Liam’s voice broke through our heated exchange. “That’s enough, Amelia. Get out.”

“Fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You can keep living in your fantasy, Liam. But one day, the truth will come out. And when it does, I hope you realize just how much you’ve lost.”

I turned and left without looking back, my chest heaving with the effort to hold back the sobs threatening to escape.

Evelyn’s victorious smirk was the last thing I saw as she gently shut the door behind me.

I rushed to the nearest restroom, locking myself inside one of the stalls as the tears came uncontrollably.

For a moment, I considered her words, that I should give up.

But then Theodore’s face flashed in my mind, so I directly returned to the pediatric section.

That night, as I was sinking into one of the chairs in the corridor, a familiar voice broke through my thoughts. “Is the ER really that exhausting, or is it something else?”