Chapter 4

Lionel walked down the corridor, turned into the obstetrics wing, and slipped into the stairwell.

Only one door was closed.

Iris stood outside it. From where she was, she could clearly see a petite girl with delicate features.

It was Pamela.

When Lionel saw her, he frowned slightly. "Why are you here?"

Pamela pouted and lowered her head, but her eyes tilted up toward him, full of grievance.

"I woke up before dawn, and you were gone. I got scared."

Her eyes were already filling with tears as she spoke.

Lionel looked pained. He gently pulled her into his arms.

"What's there to be scared of? I'm not going anywhere."

Pamela rubbed her cheek against his chest. "It's not just that. I missed you."

Lionel rubbed the top of her head indulgently. "Since when did you get this clingy?"

Pamela didn't answer. She looked up at him like a puppy, her eyes overflowing with affection.

That kind of look was dangerous.

It was exactly how Iris used to look at him.

"Lionel, do you love me?"

The moment Pamela asked that, Iris instinctively slowed her breathing. Her heart lifted painfully into her throat.

Lionel's gaze darkened. He pressed his lips together, said nothing, then suddenly shoved Pamela back against the wall and kissed her hard.

As if that wasn't enough, he moved to her neck, sucking lightly and leaving a trail of red marks behind.

Iris's eyes burned. She felt as if her heart was being yanked apart, leaving her unable to breathe.

This was how Lionel looked when he was overwhelmed by desire. Back then, when she looked at him that way, he had lost control just the same.

She took a deep breath and turned to leave.

However, Pamela's next words stopped her cold.

"Lionel, I'm pregnant. You have to take responsibility."

Iris instinctively looked toward Lionel.

His body stiffened as shock flashed across his face. Then unmistakable joy surged in his eyes, followed by a conflicted frown.

Iris knew that Lionel had always wanted a child of his own.

She didn't listen any further and went back to her room.

Twenty minutes later, Lionel returned, carrying two bowls of chicken soup.

"How are you feeling? Any better?"

He set the soup down and bent toward her, trying to kiss her forehead.

Iris frowned and turned her head away.

Lionel froze, confusion written all over his face.

"I'm hungry. Let's eat."

After a long pause, Lionel slowly straightened up, looking like he wanted to say something but didn't know how.

"Honey, you've seemed down these past few days. Did something happen? If something's wrong, tell me. I'll handle it."

As he spoke, he opened the soup and held it out to her.

Iris took it and said calmly, "It's nothing. Probably just not feeling well."

Hearing that, Lionel finally relaxed, the panic in his chest easing.

Iris stayed in the hospital one more night and was discharged the next day.

Over the following days, she stayed home organizing the fragments of their past.

Birthday gifts they had exchanged. Anniversary presents.

Photos from trips they'd taken together. Train tickets, admission stubs, little souvenirs they had picked up along the way.

Movie stubs, concert tickets, entry passes to events…

Looking at the massive pile of memories, Iris felt dazed.

So much had happened in six years.

She glanced toward the living room sofa, where Lionel sat listening to a CD. The disc spun slowly as music filled the room.

Yet Lionel, usually completely absorbed whenever he listened to music, was staring blankly at his phone.

He hadn't gone out much these days, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

On his screen was an ultrasound image.

Iris glanced once, then looked away.

At lunch, Lionel got a call from a friend who was the MV director.

"Lionel, the MV's views just hit another record! We should celebrate. Bring your girlfriend, too."

Lionel panicked and shot a nervous look at Iris. Seeing that she showed no reaction, as if she hadn't heard, he finally let out a breath and agreed.

After he left that afternoon, Iris messaged her lawyer and said she was coming to pick up the divorce papers.