Chapter 1

Scott Kenta's eyes no longer held the warmth they once did—just a cold, restless impatience, like I was some persistent problem he had grown tired of dealing with.

As I stood there, unmoving, he seemed to realize, if only briefly, that his words might have crossed a line. He cleared his throat and softened his tone slightly.

"You know how it is," he said. "If I don't have a stable career, how am I supposed to give you a good life? Be reasonable. We can't keep this child. And your health has always been fragile. A little jump, a cold shower, maybe the problem solves itself."

I stood frozen, unable to believe what I was hearing.

I always knew he could be cruel. But I never imagined he'd go this far. I really couldn't imagine if this were his child—his own flesh and blood. And yet he spoke as if it were trash, something to be thrown out without a second thought.

"Could you spare some time to come with me to the hospital?"

The bitterness rising in my chest was nearly unbearable, but I still clung to that last, flickering hope.

Smack.

He slammed the stack of documents on the desk, his patience clearly snapped.

"Alyssa, I thought I made myself clear. I'm busy. Don't bother me with something this trivial—handle it yourself."

Then, without looking at me, he picked up his phone and transferred me a sum of money.

"For your nutrition," he muttered.

I stared blankly at the screen. Four digits.

He had spent more than that on a handbag for Chloe Barney without blinking.

So that's what my child was worth in his eyes—less than a designer purse.

"Why are you so upset, Scott?"

Right then, as the silence twisted between us, Chloe pushed the door open and stepped in.

She walked over and gently massaged his shoulders from behind.

Neither of them seemed to care that I, the woman who'd been his girlfriend for ten years, was standing right there.

Everything began to unravel two years ago.

He'd been in a meeting when his phone rang. Without a word, he'd gotten up and rushed out.

I later found out it was her—Chloe, the woman he had idealized in silence for years—his long-lost first love, finally back in the country. Of course, he had to drop everything to welcome her back.

At the time, I didn't think much of it. Not until she became the company's Vice President.

I lost it. Confronted him. Demanded to know what their relationship was. He brushed it off, annoyed, and said they were just friends.

And I believed him.

Until a week later, I saw them—hand in hand—checking into a hotel under the excuse of a business trip.

Since then, he rarely came home. At the office, the two of them were inseparable. Arriving together. Leaving together. Laughing like they had the whole world to themselves.

People in the company all thought they were the real couple.

"I see you still haven't kicked your habit of getting cozy with other women's men."

My voice cut through the room like a blade.

Chloe flushed bright red. Her eyes welled up, tears threatening to spill like she had just suffered the greatest injustice imaginable.

As expected, Scott's face darkened.

"Do you hear yourself? Without Chloe's help, where would this company be? Where would you get the money to live this good life? You should be thanking her—not throwing tantrums."

Thanking her?

I almost laughed out loud.

Had he already forgotten the early days of his startup? When I worked overtime with him every night, ran around closing deals, drank myself sick at client dinners until I was throwing up blood?

A deep, aching sorrow rose in my chest. I lifted my head slowly and looked at him.

"Tell me, Scott—who's more important to you? Me or her?"

He didn't even glance my way.

"When did you become so unreasonable?"

That was when I knew there was nothing left to say. I picked up my bag and turned to leave.

Behind me, I could still hear him consoling her.

"Don't take it personally. She's always been like that. A temperamental orphan—what kind of upbringing can you expect?"

Chloe wiped away a tear with forced grace and gave a small smile.

"It's okay. I know Alyssa just misunderstood me. I'll work harder to get along with her. She's your girlfriend—I don't want to make things difficult for you."

He let out a heavy sigh.

"You're just too kind. That's your problem."

I couldn't listen to another word. I walked out without looking back.