It was my final night shift on the maternity ward. I was pregnant myself.

The last time I was in a situation like this was three years ago, when I was seven months along and had to be induced — it ended in a stillbirth that nearly destroyed me. This time, I was quitting to give this new life every chance. I wanted a healthy pregnancy, a fresh start.

An ambulance rolled in with a college kid, barely twenty. She'd fallen and miscarried; she needed a D&C. As she lay on the operating table, she clutched at my scrub top with nervous fingers. "Please, be gentle. I'm so scared of the pain."

I gave her a reassuring nod.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Can I tell you a secret? I fell on purpose. Because I'm in love with my boss."

I blinked, caught off guard.

She kept going. "I'm Kenna Jenkins, junior at Oxford University. Almost a year ago, my parents racked up these insane gambling debts, and I wound up being sold to some club. Then he saved me."

She smiled, a little dreamy. "He's drop-dead gorgeous, works in real estate, kind of a big shot in London. He told me I was beautiful, said my education and my genes were top-tier, and that he'd love me to have his baby."

"We've been together almost a year now. The luxury car and jewelry he's given me? I could fill a whole room with that stuff."

"I get the worst cramps, but no matter how swamped he is — even when he's closing million-dollar deals — he always comes home to take care of me. He even does my laundry."

Kenna's eyes went glassy. "He's the best person I've ever met, and I'm completely, utterly head over heels for him. But I know what he really wants is a kid. I've been secretly on the pill, but I slipped up while we were at a spa overseas."

"When I found out I was pregnant, I panicked. Once the baby's here, I'm terrified he'll just... leave."

She choked back a sob and looked right at me. "Here's another secret: he's got a wife back home. Her name's... oh yeah, Emely. Just like yours. Crazy coincidence, right?"

My hand shook so badly I nearly dropped the instruments.

"He says his family forced him to marry her, and he couldn't care less about her," she went on, her voice syrupy. "He calls her heartless. Told me she terminated their pregnancy and bailed on him three years ago when he was fighting for his life."

The color drained from my face. I could feel the blood leave my cheeks.

"So, do you have a husband?" Kenna asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

She gave me a sly little smile and let the subject drop.

After the procedure, as I was getting ready to leave, Kenna slid a business card into my pocket. "I'll reach out if I need you again."

I watched her walk away, her words echoing in my head.

Real estate in London. A wife with my name. Left him three years ago when he was ill. It all pointed to Eugene Martinez.

But I couldn't wrap my head around it. Eugene, tangled up with another woman? Wanting a child with her? No. It couldn't be.

My nails dug into my palms until they hurt. Finally, I tore off my scrub top, asked a colleague to cover for me, and bolted outside to hail a cab.

"Follow that black car," I told the driver.

We raced through the city until we pulled up at some exclusive club.

I shadowed Kenna up to the second floor and watched her slip into a suite.

Standing just outside the door, I could hear voices I knew all too well.

"Eugene, you lucky son of a bitch. Drop-dead gorgeous, smart wife at home and a sweet little mistress on the side?"

"Does your wife even know you're planning to knock up someone else? She'd lose her damn mind!"

Eugene's voice cut through the smoke, dripping with contempt. "What right does she have to be pissed? After she killed our baby and walked out on me when I needed her most, she should've seen this coming. I want Kenna to have my kid, and then I'm going to rub them both in Emely's face. Prove I'm moving on without her. She's not irreplaceable."

"So you still love your wife, Eugene?"

His tone turned to ice. "I'd sooner love a stray dog. I just want her to feel the same betrayal and abandonment she put me through."

My blood turned to ice water. Hot tears burned behind my eyes.

I couldn't process how the man who'd sobbed while holding me after I came home could spit out such venom.

But I had ended that pregnancy to save his life. And I'd left to heal.

I wanted to storm in there, to tell him everything. But love had already died. What was the point?

I turned and walked away, refusing to hear another word.

Somehow, I ended up back at the hospital, finishing my last shift like a ghost.

The next morning, I left my white coat hanging and went straight to the Martinez family estate to see Frederick.

"Grandfather, I want a divorce from Eugene."

He set his coffee cup down so hard it clattered. "Did that boy do something to you? I'll have him dragged here to apologize."

I forced a tight smile. "No. We've just... we've hit the end of the road."

He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed heavily. "Does he know you saved him back then?"

I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. "It doesn't matter anymore. Grandfather, please. Just let me go."

He finally nodded. "Alright. I'll take care of the divorce. You go take care of yourself, for a few days at least."

After leaving Frederick Martinez's estate, I went straight to the hospital to hand in my resignation. The plan was to get the divorce finalized, then move abroad, focus on my pregnancy, and start the new life I was so desperate for.

Paperwork done, I'd just stepped outside when a sleek black Jaguar screeched to a stop right in front of me. Before I could even react, a brutal grip clamped around my wrist.

"Emely Ford. When did you find out?" Eugene Martinez's eyes were blazing with fury, his grip so tight I thought my bones might snap.

I flinched, frowning. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"No idea?" He scoffed, throwing a business card in my face. "Take a good look! Whose card is this?"

"Eugene, how could you be this vile? Wasn't it enough that you made me lose our first child—now you've gone and terminated another!"

The card fluttered to the ground—it was the same one Kenna Jenkins had swiped last night. She'd known who I was all along. Every word she said, every move she made, was deliberate.

I stayed silent, and Eugene grabbed my chin, hard. "Emely Ford, are you proud of yourself? Did you get that same rush of accomplishment when you—"

"Eugene, shut up!" I slapped him, cutting him off. "She fell and lost the baby on her own. It had nothing to do with me!"

His voice turned to ice. "I looked into it. She fell, yeah, but the pregnancy could've been saved. You manipulated her, walked her right into that procedure room, and took my child."

"That's sick!"

A whole night's worth of hurt and resentment crashed over me, and I started pounding on his chest. "Eugene, you were the one who cheated first! You're the one who got involved with her! How dare you accuse me?"

He sneered. "How dare I? Because when I was at rock bottom, when I needed you most, when I begged you not to leave, you heartlessly aborted our child and left the country. And then, once I'd picked up the pieces, you came back and used Grandfather's influence to marry me. Emely Ford, did you really think I married you because I still loved you? Let me spell it out for you—I married you, I treated you right, all so I could one day get my revenge."

"Do you have any idea how disgusted I've been these past three years? How badly I wanted to turn away every time we were close..."

My face went sheet-white, tears burning my eyes. "Eugene, I ended that pregnancy to save your—"

"Mr. Martinez, it's bad! Ms. Jenkins is hemorrhaging—they've rushed her to the ER!" The assistant's panicked shout drowned out my voice.

Eugene's expression shifted, and he spun to run but then stopped, yanking me by the wrist. "You're coming with me!"

"Let go of me! I don't... ah!" I tried to fight it, but he jerked me forward. I slammed hard into a lamppost, and a sharp, searing pain tore through my lower belly.

But Eugene didn't so much as pause, dragging me toward the hospital. Every step sent another wave of agony through me.

I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

At the ER, he shoved me aside and was immediately in the doctor's face. "Doctor, how is she? How the hell is she hemorrhaging?"

The doctor adjusted his glasses. "The procedure wasn't completed properly. That's what's causing the heavy bleeding."

Thrown against the wall, I felt a hot rush of liquid slide down my legs. Staring in horror at the trail of blood, I gripped the wall, trying to get away, but I was snatched back as an enraged voice boomed over me.

"Emely Ford! It's not enough you aborted my child—now you've botched Kenna's treatment too? Are you asking for trouble?"

My face went ghostly pale. I had no fight left in me. All I could think about was saving my baby. I'd already failed one child. I couldn't lose another.

"Ma'am! You're bleeding!" the assistant suddenly cried out.

Eugene looked down, his eyes tracking the blood soaking through my clothes, and his face went gray. "Emely, you're pregnant?"

My heart lurched, and before I could answer, madness flared in his eyes as he seized my jaw again.

"Emely Ford, how dare you? How dare you have the nerve to carry my child again!"

"Eugene Martinez! You can’t force me to kill my child!” Eugene’s grip clamped around my wrist, dragging me relentlessly toward the procedure room.

“Let go of me! I’m not doing this!” I fought, thrashing, but he was stone—unyielding.

In a last, desperate move, my knees gave way. I crumpled before him, clutching his sleeve with shaking hands, my voice splintering into sobs. “Eugene, please. I’m begging you. Just let me keep this baby. It’s all I have.”

Years ago, being induced had ravaged my womb. Then I gave him a kidney and part of my spleen—leaving my body wrecked. After years of meds and treatments, I’d finally gotten pregnant again. I couldn’t lose this one.

Eugene froze, his mind flickering back to three years ago, when he’d been on his knees, begging me to keep our first child—and I’d shut him down without hesitation.

A dark laugh ripped from his throat, his eyes violent with fury. “Emely, wasn’t I the one begging just like this? And what did you give me? Nothing but a door slammed in my face. Don’t act like you forgot.”

“Now, the only woman worthy of carrying my child is Kenna.”

“And you? You don’t deserve shit.”

His words were a death sentence. In a heartbeat, every trace of compassion vanished. He kicked me—viciously—right in the stomach.

Agony ripped through me. I curled up on the cold floor, hot blood spreading beneath me, shockingly red. The little life inside me, draining away.

Gasping, I looked up at Eugene’s assistant, my whisper barely a breath. “Please… help me…”

The assistant wavered, but one glare from Eugene and he turned his back on me.

My heart plunged into an abyss.

My vision swam, darkness swallowing me whole. The last thing I heard was Eugene’s icy command: “Take her to the procedure room.”

Two guards grabbed me, hauling me up and dragging me out. As they did, the operating room doors swung wide, and Kenna was wheeled out. Eugene rushed to her side, taking her hand like she was made of glass, his eyes swimming with worry.

I shut my eyes tight, a tear slipping down my cheek. When I forced them open again, my womb was empty.

The child I’d hoped to hold was gone.

A young nurse approached, her voice heavy with pity. “Dr. Ford, your uterine wall is paper-thin now. It’s… unlikely you’ll ever conceive again.”

“Someone like her isn’t fit to be a mother, right?” The ward door slammed open, and Eugene leaned against the frame, arms crossed, his gaze slicing me open. Disdain dripped from every word.

Bitterness flooded my chest. “You’re right. I’m not fit. And neither are you.”

Eugene’s face flushed crimson. He seized my wrist, yanking me upright. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be? Half the women in London would kill to have my kid! One of them is in the room next door.”

“And thanks to your screw-up, Kenna got hurt. Bad. You’re going to apologize. Now.”

He dragged me through the hall, shoving me into walls as we went, until we reached Kenna’s VIP suite.

Inside, Kenna lay propped on pillows, surrounded by staff. The second Eugene walked in, she bolted upright, her voice trembling with fake tears. “Eugene, where did you go? I was so scared!”

Then her eyes found me, and she shrank back, face going pale as she hid behind him. “Eugene, why is she here? I didn’t know she was your wife. If I’d known, I never would’ve come to this hospital. Our baby would still be here… I’m so sorry, Eugene, it’s all my fault!” She dissolved into sobs, trembling like a wounded bird.

Eugene’s expression softened. “Kenna, stop. It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”

She melted against him, but over his shoulder, she shot me a look of pure triumph. Slowly, she raised her phone, the screen bright with a message:

[Your man loves me. Old hag, get lost.]

The pettiness of it almost made me laugh. I spun on my heel to leave, but Eugene’s voice cracked like a whip.

“Who said you could leave? You haven’t apologized to Kenna yet!”

I stilled, turning back, my tone flat and empty. “Miss Jenkins, I’m sorry. It was my fault. There. Are you satisfied, Mr. Martinez?”

His face darkened, and he hurled a glass vase at me, shattering it inches from my feet. “Get the hell out! I can’t stand the sight of you!”

The words stabbed straight through my heart, but I had something more important to do.

I went to the procedure room and collected what remained of my child, wrapping the tiny form in a clean white cloth. Then I drove to a quiet cemetery on the edge of town."