Chapter 8

The hospital corridor was empty and cold at night. Nyla clutched her phone. Her fingers turned white. Her knuckles stood out from the force.

The doctor's voice came through the receiver. It was tired but serious. "Ms. Nyla, your father's situation is very dangerous. His kidney failure progressed, and he needed immediate surgery. The surgery fee plus follow-up treatment requires a deposit of three hundred thousand first. Otherwise, we can't start the surgery."

Nyla's legs weakened. She almost collapsed to the ground. Her father was her last family in the world. She couldn't lose him. Her hands trembled. She scrolled through her contacts. Finally, she dialed that familiar number.

"Clark..." Her voice shook with uncontrollable trembling and despair. "My dad... my dad is at St. Mary's Hospital. His kidney failure progressed. He needs surgery. The doctor says it requires three hundred thousand deposit. I... I don't have that much in my account right now..."

Clark's voice came from the other end. It was hurried. There was the sound of a car starting. "Which hospital? I'm coming right now. Don't worry. I'll handle everything."

Half an hour later, Clark rushed into the emergency hall. He looked windswept. His suit carried the chill of the night wind. His hair was messy. He spotted Nyla curled up in the corner. She hugged her knees on the chair. Her face was pale as paper.

He didn't ask questions. He grabbed Nyla's hand. He pulled her toward the payment counter. His fingertips were warm and strong. It eased her tense nerves a bit.

"Don't panic," he said. His tone was steady and reliable. "I'll take care of the money. Your father will be fine."

He had his assistant transfer the money urgently. He sat with Nyla on the bench outside the operating room. He saw her shivering nonstop.

He took off his jacket. He draped it over her shoulders. He wiped the tears from her eyes now and then. He went to the vending machine. He bought hot coffee. He handed it to her.

"Drink this," he said softly. "You need to stay warm." His voice carried a rare gentleness.

This gentle and attentive manner made Nyla recall the past. She thought of when they first got married. He protected her back then.

He shielded her from wind and rain. He solved all her troubles. In those days, he stayed up to care for her when she was sick. He remembered every birthday. He held her tight when she cried.

The surgery lasted a full six hours. The operating light finally went out. Dawn light appeared on the horizon. The doctor removed his mask. He looked tired but smiled.

He walked out. "The surgery was successful. The condition is stable now. The patient needs to be observed in ICU for 24 hours. The family can rest assured."

Nyla's suspended heart finally dropped. She leaned against the corridor wall. She felt exhausted. She prepared to thank Clark. But she saw him pull a paper from his briefcase. He handed it to her.

It was a pregnancy test report. Jordyn's name was clear on it. It stated: Pregnant for 8 weeks, fetal development is good.

Clark cleared his throat. His tone carried a hint of probing. He tried to keep the earlier gentleness. "Nyla, there's something I need to discuss with you. Jordyn is carrying my child."

He paused. He watched Nyla's reaction. Then he continued. "You know my mother has been longing for a grandchild. And Grandpa only recognizes you as the legitimate daughter-in-law. So I was thinking... when the baby is born, you could help raise it. We'll tell everyone it's yours. This way, everyone benefits."

He thought Nyla was scared from the ordeal. He had just paid for her father's medical bills. She would compromise and endure like before.

Nyla stared at the clear words on the report. The daze from his companionship vanished instantly. Only bone-chilling cold remained. She recalled Jordyn's provocation and show-off at the annual meeting.

She remembered Clark's brutality when he dragged her from Damon's office. Now she looked at this man. One second he comforted her. The next he wanted to bind her life with a child that wasn't hers.

Those past gentleness and sweetness now seemed like soap bubbles. They burst with one poke.

She took out the divorce agreement from her bag. She had prepared it long ago. She placed it calmly in front of Clark.

Her voice was cold without a ripple. "Clark, I'll pay you back for my father's medical expenses as soon as possible. As for this child, you can find whoever you want to raise it—we're getting divorced."

Clark's gentle expression froze instantly. He looked at the agreement in disbelief. His voice rose. "Are you out of your mind? Just because of this baby? I told you I'd handle everything properly! Your father is still in the hospital and you want to talk about divorce now?"

"This has nothing to do with the child," Nyla said.

She lifted her eyes. There was no lingering affection in them. "It's about you, Clark. From the moment you allowed Jordyn to humiliate me, from the moment you treated me as nothing more than a baby-raising tool, we were over."

She stood up. She pushed the agreement toward him. "I've already signed it. Sign it quickly so we don't waste each other's time."

With that, she turned and walked toward her father's ward. Her back was firm and resolute. She didn't look back once at Clark's shocked and angry face. This time, she really wouldn't turn back.

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