My Safe Harbor

"Ms. Irene, you've been longing for a baby all this time. Are you sure you don't want to keep it?"

Rosalind Robinett, who had cared for me since childhood, was distraught. Her eyes were red as she grabbed my hands tightly, trying to stop me from entering the operating room.

"If Mr. Barker finds out, he'll be furious!"

I gave a hollow smile, gently pulling my hands free and stepping forward with firm resolve.

"Actually, he'd be more than happy."

Because he had never wanted a baby.

Throughout my six-year marriage to Simon Barker, I had endured constant torment from my cruel mother-in-law, who blamed me for not bearing children. This baby was the first blessing I received after so long.

Even Rosalind, my maid, understood how precious this child was, how much more so me, the one who carried it in my body.

I lowered my head sadly, my gaze falling on the necklace clenched tightly in my hand.

Among all the gifts Simon had given me, it was the least flashy, but it meant the world to me.

He had gently fastened it around my neck on our wedding night, saying, "Irene, marrying you has been my greatest wish. I promise to protect you for the rest of your life."

Growing up in the waterside town of Jazenville, I had always adored the pure and graceful white lotus, so he chose a necklace shaped like one.

Back then, my heart overflowed with happiness. I believed I had finally found my soulmate.

That illusion shattered the day I went for a prenatal checkup and the doctor told me in disbelief, "Your body shows a high level of contraceptive chemicals, likely from long-term intake."

It hit me like a thunderbolt. I froze, unable to speak.

I recalled those nights when Simon would thoughtfully bring me a warm glass of milk, urging me to drink it to help me sleep.

Only then did I realize it had all been a cruel lie, woven from his false affection. The ugly truth chilled me to the bone.

After the surgery, Rosalind stayed by my side without leaving.

As the anesthesia wore off, sharp cramps began to pulse through my abdomen.

Just then, a sudden knock came at the door.

"What's going on? Why is the door locked?"

Simon's voice was filled with worry and urgency, as if he was about to break in any second.

Wrapping myself tightly in the blanket, I fought the pain and answered calmly, "I'm not feeling well today, and I look awful. I don't want you to see me like this."

He grumbled, "If you're sick, you should see a doctor. Are you throwing a tantrum again because you're scared of shots and medicine?

"Open the door, or I'm coming in!"

Just as the door began to shake under his forceful kick, Simon suddenly froze.

His assistant whispered something in his ear, and the frantic urgency in Simon's voice vanished instantly.

His hand rested on the door, but he no longer tried to push inside.