All Chapters of No Spring Comes from A Cold Man: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

In the mirror, the white wedding dress on me suddenly looked painfully bright.The tie clip in that photo was the one I had given Damian Grant last month.I still remembered the way he had taken it from my hand. He had barely glanced at it before tossing it into a drawer.“Don’t waste your time on things like this again. You’re going to be my wife. Put that energy into learning how to run a household.”His tone had been cold and flat, as if he were commenting on a bad quarterly report.I had thought he simply didn’t like the gift.But now, there it was, pinned neatly to another woman’s collar, turned into something she could parade around as proof that she was special.Through the screen, it felt as if someone had slapped me across the face. My ears rang.So the heart I had spent ten years trying to reach had already been handed to someone else.A dry ache scraped at my throat. Somehow, I started laughing.I took off the wedding dress and called Damian.“Where are you?”“At work.” His

Seeing the shock in Ethan’s eyes, I instinctively placed a hand over my still-flat stomach.It was true.Damian was infertile.No one knew that better than I did.Three years ago, when he first received the test results, he destroyed everything in his study.The doctor had said his sperm motility was extremely low. Natural conception was almost impossible.So when the pregnancy test showed two lines, I thought it was a miracle.I had planned to tell him in person at the wedding.I had also wanted to make Evelyn happy. She was the head of the Grant family, but these past few years, all she had wanted was to see a child born into the family.But now...I set down my cup and looked at Ethan.“Help me leave.”Ethan’s pupils tightened again.“But your wedding is tomorrow.”I lowered my eyes and told him everything, calmly and from the beginning.The ten years I had spent living under someone else’s roof.The obedience.The insults I had swallowed.The way Damian had turned me, in the end, i

The entire hall went silent.More than three hundred guests looked from the giant screen to Damian, then back again. It felt as if all the air had been pulled out of the room.The prayer beads scattered across the marble floor, one after another, rolling until they came to a stop at the tips of Damian’s polished shoes.Evelyn’s hand was still suspended in midair.The broken strand dangled from her fingers, trembling slightly.She wasn’t looking at Damian.She was looking at the pregnancy report on the giant screen.[Miscarriage caused by violent assault.]“Vivian.”Evelyn’s voice was dry and strained.She gripped the armrest of her chair and tried to stand, but her legs were shaking.The caregiver beside her hurried to support her.Evelyn pushed the woman away and walked toward the stage one step at a time.“Come here, sweetheart.”My bare feet pressed against the cold stage as I walked toward her.The blood on the wedding dress had already darkened, stiff against my skin.Evelyn’s tre

“Evelyn.”I held the phone, my voice steadier than I had expected.There was silence on the other end for several seconds, followed by a long, heavy sigh.“Vivian, where are you?”“Somewhere safe.”“Good.”Evelyn didn’t press me.After a pause, she said, “Vivian, I need to ask you something. Answer me honestly.”“The child... was real?”My fingers curled around the phone. My nails dug into my palm.“Yes.”The line went quiet for a very long time.So long that I almost thought the call had dropped.Then I heard the faintest, most broken sob.Evelyn did not cry loudly.But that muffled grief caught in her throat hurt more than any wail could have.“How far along?”“Seven weeks.”Silence again.Then Evelyn’s voice changed.It was no longer the voice of a kind old woman.It was the voice of Evelyn Grant, the woman who had built enough power in one lifetime to make an entire boardroom lower its eyes.“Vivian, listen to me carefully.“I’ve already had the lawyers freeze seventy percent of th

Good.Now Damian knew.The baby had been real.And his chances of ever having another child were almost nonexistent.Seven weeks.There had already been a heartbeat.The life he had destroyed with his own hands had truly existed.I didn’t know what his face looked like when he saw the medical records.But that night, his calls came one after another.The first call, I didn’t answer.The second, I didn’t answer.The third, I still didn’t answer.By the fourth, he sent a voice message.I didn’t play it.But Ethan’s phone rang.The caller ID showed a landline number.Ethan answered.After listening for a few seconds, his expression shifted slightly.He glanced at me, walked out onto the balcony, and closed the door behind him.Through the glass, I saw him standing with his back to me, one hand braced on the railing, speaking for a long time.When he came back in, his expression had returned to calm.“Who was it?” I asked.“Damian. He called from a landline.”Ethan sat down, his voice even