'Michael—from this day forward, you and I are done. We will never see each other again.'
—
The next day, at the hospital—
“Michael, is our baby okay?”
Meeting Daniela’s pitiful, anxious eyes, Michael immediately pulled her into his arms, speaking to her in a soft, reassuring voice.
“The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy—no signs of trauma from what happened yesterday.”
"That’s such a relief," she breathed out, her voice trembling slightly.
"I saw how serious and quiet you have been ever since we arrived at the hospital. I thought something was wrong with the baby."
Her unintentional comment made Michael pause.
An uncontrollable image surfaced in his mind—standing amidst roaring flames, Ashlyn stared back at him with eyes as cold as ice.
Frowning, he reopened his inbox. However, there was still no reply. Not even a word from her.
It annoyed him. No—it infuriated him.
After all, no matter how cold or neglectful he’d been in the past, Ashlyn had always come when he called—always giving in.
But now? Now she had the nerve to ignore him?!
He let out a bitter, humorless laugh.