“And look at her,” Natalie continued sweetly, “She’s so desperate to keep that box, she’s even cursing her own sister. Besides, I got a call from the hospital not long ago—they said her sister was never sick to begin with.”
Zayn frowned, his voice firm. “If Natalie wants it, give it to her. As for your apology—you’re not going anywhere until she decides to accept it.”
I froze, stunned. My arms suddenly felt empty.
When I looked up, I saw Natalie turning the urn in her hands, a mocking smile playing on her lips.
Forced to kneel under the scorching sun for three hours, I could barely stand afterward.
The first thing I did when I got up was print out a divorce agreement—then head straight to the hospital for an abortion.
Looking at the tiny embryo that had almost begun to form, a sharp pain twisted in my chest.
Once I calmed down, I gently placed it into a foam box and arranged for a courier to deliver it.
When I arrived at Zayn’s office, he was smiling tenderly—watching Natalie shape little clay figures.
I still remembered the time I’d brought him chips while he was working; he’d flown into a rage, scolding me in front of all his employees.