Chapter 4

Joseph cast a meaningful glance at Willow, then at Laurel. "Don't tell me your wife is…" "My family affairs are none of your business," Chad interrupted him, clearly unwilling to answer who his wife was. Joseph nodded unhurriedly. "Sorry if I overstepped my boundaries. Open marriages are so common nowadays—I suppose it's the same for you, Mr. Lawson. Don't worry, I know exactly where to draw the line." He turned and walked away in a carefree manner before Chad could completely lose his temper, leaving only a meaningful smile. "If you ever need a divorce, you know where to find me, Mr. Lawson—I'll even give you a discount." Chad instinctively glanced over at Willow. His tone was icy when he replied, "My wife and I are doing just fine." With how far Joseph had walked, he might not have heard Chad's reply. But Laurel heard everything loud and clear. She "drunkenly" leaned into Chad's arms and looked up with her doe-like eyes. "Am I disturbing you and Willow's time together?" Before he could even reply, Laurel suddenly teared up and tried to pull away. "You're no longer my older brother now… You have your own family… I shouldn't be disturbing you… I'll just go back to the hotel…" Chad pulled her even closer. His voice was beyond tender when he said, "Indeed, I'm no longer your older brother, but you're always welcome to come and disturb me." His gaze was so intense that Laurel almost melted under it. He was so close to blurting out that he no longer wanted to be just her older brother. Willow stood by the side, watching everything unfold as if she were an outsider. Chad seemed to finally remember her presence. He let Laurel go and diffidently said, "You won't mind it, right, babe? After all, Laurel is my younger sister." He was already thinking of ways to coax a jealous Willow, yet she merely smiled. "I don't mind." Although she spoke softly, her words cut deep, like a knife straight to her heart. … Early the next morning, Willow opened her eyes and reached for the space next to her out of habit. Chad's side of the bed was already cold. Willow pulled on her robe before walking barefoot to the third-floor corridor. She looked over the landing to Laurel's room on the second floor. Through the half-opened door, she saw Chad carefully feeding Laurel hangover soup. He would gently blow on the spoon as soon as Laurel pouted and frowned. And as soon as she complained about her messy hair, he would pick up a comb and deftly tie her hair into a neat ponytail. Willow's nails dug deep into her palms. She recalled the time when she drank too much during a business dinner and ended up with bleeding ulcers in her stomach. All Chad did was ask Maria Hempton, the housekeeper, to make her some oatmeal the next day. She'd once asked his help to tie her a simple low ponytail, yet he brushed her off by saying that he didn't know how. Willow stood frozen in place until Chad left the house with Laurel. Her legs were numb, yet she stubbornly refused to head downstairs. She refused to show up in front of them. It would only make her feel like a pathetic fool or a villain standing in the way of true love—just like how it was in those romance novels she despised. Perhaps Willow was too distracted to pay attention, but she missed a step on her way downstairs. She stumbled and went crashing down with a scream. A sharp pain tore through her abdomen as she lay curled up on the floor. She could feel a warm liquid slowly spreading between her legs. Willow's face instantly paled. Her fingers trembled as she reached to touch her belly, a terrifying thought forming in her head. "Mrs. Lawson!" Maria rushed over in a panic. She freaked out when she saw the blood pooling on the floor. "I… I'll call 911 now!" … The wail of the ambulance siren pierced through the quiet morning. In the hospital, a nurse asked urgently, "Where's the patient's guardian? We need a family member's signature!" Maria fretted around anxiously. "I… I've called Mr. Lawson over a dozen times, but he didn't pick up…" She then pulled out Willow's phone. "I've even used Mrs. Lawson's phone to call him 17 times… Still, no one picked up…" Willow weakly opened her eyes on the hospital bed. She reached out and grabbed the nurse's sleeves. "I'll… sign it myself… I don't want… the baby anymore…" Her voice was soft, yet the words weighed heavily. Willow recalled how she hadn't bothered with contraception for the past two months after Chad brought up having a baby. The baby's arrival was sudden, and now it was departing just as unexpectedly. It shouldn't have come into the world if it hadn't been conceived out of love. The doctor solemnly said, "Your condition is critical now. We might not be able to save the baby, but we can try…" "No need." Willow closed her eyes as tears slid from the corners. The harsh white lights on the cold operating table were so blinding that she couldn't keep her eyes open. The machine scraping her insides made a metallic, clinical sound—it felt like a piece of her heart was carved away with each movement. Willow bit down on her lips until she tasted blood, refusing to let herself cry out.