The Gentle Trap

I, Christine Sonnet, stood outside the study and held the ultrasound report I had just printed.

The baby's outline was crystal clear. Its tiny hands and feet reminded me of a seed that had just begun to sprout.

'Lucky Luther.' That was the name Jim Luther had given our baby. He said he hoped our child would grow up with good fortune and be surrounded by love.

At this moment, the name that used to signify blessings felt painfully ironic.

I dug my nails into the paper until they tore through the word 'Lucky.'

This was absurd. When he named our child, he was thinking about another woman.

My stomach suddenly churned, and I felt something acidic in my throat.

I instinctively ran into the bathroom next door.

Leaning over the sink, I dry-heaved several times, but nothing came up.

I glanced at the ultrasound report, which was now crumpled into a ball beside me, and felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart.

The baby's tiny hands and feet were still perfectly visible, but now they felt like knives stabbing straight through my heart.

It turned out I was nothing more than a surrogate mother whose only purpose was to give Jim a child.

Suddenly, I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Jim placed a hand against my back, and the scent of mint mixed with cigarette smoke filled my nostrils.

"Why are you throwing up again?" His voice was tense as he gently patted my back. "I had Gina prepare soup for you. Wait for a while and–"

I abruptly avoided his touch.

The movement was so sudden that his hand froze in midair. "Is Lucky giving you trouble again today?"

He crouched down and brushed my damp hair away from my forehead. The moment his fingertips touched my earlobe, my entire body trembled.

I used to find the warmth of his hands comforting. Now, it felt like a flame that could scorch me.

"Don't touch me." My voice was hoarse as I pushed him away.

He froze for a moment before smiling helplessly. "Is pregnancy messing with your emotions? I'll get you some warm water."

I said nothing. I merely stared at the tattoo on his collarbone.

[LY.]

He had gotten it the day I found out I was pregnant.

When I'd asked him about it, he'd told me, "L and Y are the first and last letters of Lucky's name. That's how much I love our child."

Only now did I understand that 'L' and 'Y' were also the first and last letters of Lucy Lindt's name.

"Open your mouth." He brought the warm water over and held the rim of the glass to my lips.

Sunlight shone in through the window, casting long shadows from his eyelashes across his face. It was like a carefully placed trap disguised as tenderness.

Jim's phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, and his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Answer it," I said softly. "It might be something from the company."

He hesitated for a second before walking to the window to take the call. "Y-Yeah, I know. I'll be there right away."

After hanging up, he turned around with that same gentle expression already back on his face. "Honey, there's an emergency meeting at the company. I'll have Gina look after you."

I stared at the tattoo on his collarbone and suddenly smiled. "Sure."

The moment he left, I heard a hushed voice from the end of the hallway.