When Daniel finally showed up and pushed open my hospital room door, he hadn't even bothered to wipe the irritation off his face before he saw me lying there, pale and hollow-eyed.

While I had been losing our child on an operating table, this so-called father had been cooking for another woman.

And me—his girlfriend who'd supported him through years of struggling—I couldn't even get a text back.

Under the nurse's disgusted stare, Daniel shifted uncomfortably.

"Kandice, why didn't you call me about something this serious?"

I didn't answer, but the nurse raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Wellington, right? Weren’t you the one who blocked her number while she was bleeding out on this very bed?”

Daniel hated being embarrassed in public. After the nurse's blunt accusation, he shot me a murderous look.

I knew he'd blame me for making him look bad.

Once the nurse left, he dropped all pretense.

"Kandice, I was only gone for a few days on business. You couldn't even keep our baby safe?"

My lips were cracked and dry, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion.

When I didn't respond, Daniel grabbed my shoulder roughly.

His finger jabbed toward my face, voice dripping with contempt.

"What good are you anyway? I bust my ass at work to support us both. You've got some nerve glaring at me like that. Everything you spend comes from my paycheck."

I managed to part my cracked lips, not bothering to hide my contempt.

"Support us? Daniel, you're the one who begged me to quit my job and focus on this pregnancy. Cut the act. Business trip? More like a booty call."

Maybe my expression looked too broken, because Daniel backed off slightly.

"I just needed that money for an investment opportunity. How was I supposed to know you'd lose the baby today? Besides, that investment just got me promoted to regional manager. We're finally going to be comfortable."

I let out a bitter laugh as he pulled out his phone, pretending he was about to pay the hospital bill—only to see that it had already been paid.

“My friend covered it,” I said flatly, too exhausted to even look at him.

I sank back into the pillows, too drained to even look at his twisted expression.

In the heavy silence, I closed my eyes and listened to Daniel mutter curses under his breath.

The mattress dipped as he sat down, studying the cold sweat on my forehead.

"Here. Got you something."

He tossed something onto my chest, jostling my surgical site.

I opened my eyes to see Daniel looking down at me smugly.

"It's a vintage designer bag—way nicer than anything you could afford before. Don't worry, now that I'm moving up in the company, I might buy you the real deal if you play your cards right."

I picked up what was obviously someone's old castoff.

When I opened it, I found a hair elastic tangled with strands of bleached hair.

The cheap knockoff reeked of desperation and humiliation.

Without hesitation, I hurled the grimy bag across the room.

"Keep your garbage. I don't want it."

Daniel watched his "gift" hit the wall and jumped up from the bed.

"Don't be such a bitch! Who do you think you are, some trust fund princess? Get over yourself."

A bitter laugh escaped my throat as I pressed my hand to my empty womb.

"How do you know I'm not?"

Daniel stared at me like I'd lost my mind.

"If you had money, would you have lived on ramen with me for three years? Would you have given up everything to help me build my career?"

I met his gaze steadily. After his cruel words, something seemed to dawn on him about everything I'd sacrificed.

"Look, enough drama. Wendy and I are just friends—practically family. Besides, her connections are helping my career. Can't you think about what's best for our future?"

He reached for my hand like he was doing me some grand favor, but the impatience in his eyes gave away his true feelings.

I wanted to slap that smug look right off his face, but I was too exhausted—too drained to do anything but sleep.

When the nurse wheeled me to the hospital entrance, she shot me one last worried glance.

I was about to ask Daniel to help me into the car when I realized he'd already climbed behind the wheel without looking back.

When he noticed I hadn't gotten in yet, he honked the horn impatiently.

"What's taking so long? I've got places to be."

He rolled down the window, his expression shifting when he saw the nurse struggling to support me.

The nurse's face flushed with anger, clearly outraged on my behalf.

But I knew Daniel’s temper and didn't want to cause her trouble, so I squeezed her hand gently and limped toward the car.

Once I collapsed into the passenger seat, sweat beaded on my forehead from pain and exhaustion.

When I finally caught my breath, I noticed a cutesy sticker on the dashboard:

"Mr. Wellington’s favourite girl sits HERE!"

Daniel glanced at me nervously while driving, offering a weak explanation.

“Wendy was just being playful—don't read into it."

Hearing him call twenty-five-year-old Wendy "playful" made my stomach churn.

Playful? She was a grown woman.

Too weak to argue, I turned toward the window instead.

A wave of self-loathing washed over me. How had I been so blind to waste three years on this man?

Not only had I moved into his crappy studio apartment, but I'd hidden my wealthy background to protect his fragile ego while we lived on ramen and hope.

I leaned against the window with a bitter smile as Daniel turned on music and his GPS to break the tension.

"Hey there, handsome! Your favorite girl Wendy is here to guide you home~"

Wendy’s voice purred through the car speakers in a custom navigation recording. I'd been about to close my eyes, but this was the final straw.

"Daniel, if you're going to apologize, at least put some effort into it. I didn't throw a fit about your trashy gift, so now you think you can walk all over me?"

Daniel, who'd been making awkward small talk out of guilt, froze at my outburst before his face turned ugly.

"What's your problem, Kandice? Yeah, I'm close with Wendy. But maybe you should look in the mirror first. Her family owns Zenith Pharmaceutical— She’s the princess of the Zenith Pharmaceutical and my ticket to the big leagues. What do you bring to the table? Temper tantrums?"

Daniel yanked me out of the car at a red light. Passing trucks splashed dirty puddle water across my shoes.

His words echoed in my head: Zenith Pharmaceutical Princess.

So that was it. Someone else had claimed the title I'd once found embarrassingly pretentious.

I watched his taillights disappear into traffic, feeling something cold and sharp ignite in my chest.

I struggled home and dry-swallowed a handful of painkillers with the cake I ordered.

After making my first call home in months, I finally collapsed into bed.