Chapter 4

We had a child once.

When I was hurt and lying in a pool of my own blood, Jordan had been playing with Crystal.

Holding on tightly to consciousness, I called Jordan, but no one picked up. Then, I blacked out.

It was only afterward that I found out that Crystal had turned off Jordan’s phone because she was afraid I would interrupt their game.

Because I had missed out on the ideal timeframe to get treatment, I lost my baby.

When the doctor took the dead baby out of me, I found out that it was a boy.

I had lain on the surgery table and cried all I could cry.

When the doctor said that I could have kept the baby had I arrived just half an hour earlier, choking despair enveloped me.

That day, I was so dejected as I flew back home.

My family told me to break up with Jordan, and I really did want to at the time.

But he had stayed outside our door all through the icy winter night, begging for my forgiveness, so I had relented.

I had wanted to open the door to admit him, but the second my hand touched the door handle, my father told me decisively, “If you step out of this house, I’m disowning you. You won’t be my daughter anymore.”

Thinking of the baby I had lost, I withdrew my hand.

Jordan stayed outside all night, and I was with him the whole night, too, on the balcony.

The next morning, he got a fever, and he fainted in the snow.

I was so worried, and I was about to open the door again.

My father’s voice rang out. “You have to choose between Jordan and this family; you can’t have both. If you walk out this door, you’re never coming back.”

Feeling pained, I closed my eyes but finally opened the door after a long struggle.

Jordan had been so worked up when he took my hand, promising me ardently, “I won’t let you down. I swear that we’ll have another baby.”

From then on, I did not have any contact with my family. I did not receive any form of congratulations from them, even for my wedding.

I used to think that I had made the right choice, that Jordan would bring me more warmth and happiness than my family had.

But reality had taught me a cruel lesson.

It was foolish to believe a man’s promises.

It was evening by the time Jordan called me again.

“Sorry, I was having too much fun. The ballroom’s decorations have gotten quite ruined, too. I’ve arranged for a smaller ballroom. We can have our wedding there.”

The smaller ballroom would hardly be a tenth of the size of the original one, but I had no energy to argue that with him.

Duly, I said, “Sure.”

Jordan must have thought I would pitch a fit, but I was surprisingly calm.

He was overjoyed and praised me for being sensible.

“We’ll be married soon. You’ll be my wife in just a moment. Just wait a bit. I’m coming to get you now.”

The line cut. I took off the necklace with the bullet on it and placed it on the bedside table.

Then, I turned around and made my way to the airport.