Chapter 4

Two hours of tears led to one inevitable call. I asked Derek about the money for my dad.

His answer was swift and cutting.

"I'm a little short myself. Tell your dad to find a loan. Maybe I'll pay next month."

My grip on the phone tightened. I swallowed hard, steadying my voice.

"What will it take?"

The line clicked onto speaker. "Apologize to Skylar. Now. I'm buying her a car tonight to make her happy. Make her happy for me, and I'll have the cash for your dad."

Rage, pure and blinding, surged through me. I wanted to shriek at the humiliation.

But then a sharp, twisting cramp seized my lower stomach, a visceral reminder that steadied me.

Even though it hurt, really, really hurt, I still trembled as I spoke into the phone to the girl on the other end. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you this afternoon. I shouldn't have yelled at you this afternoon. I was wrong."

As I spoke, I gripped the phone so tightly, even biting my lip until it bled, just to keep my voice even.

The moment my words faded, the girl's sweet voice came through the phone. "Willow, don't say that. You don't need to apologize. I just lost my footing this afternoon."

"It's all Derek's fault. I was sick with the flu and felt bad, so I didn't want to talk to him. But he thought I was angry and insisted you apologize to me."

"I'm not angry at all. I'm already so happy you're willing to share Derek with me. Really, I'm not mad. Aren't you pregnant? You should take care of yourself first."

Listening to the girl's voice, tears streamed down my face.

I dug my nails so hard into my flesh that it was the only thing stopping me from sobbing out loud.

And the moment the girl finished, Derek took the phone back.

Then, casually and lazily, he said to me, "Willow, see? Skylar is so compliant. In the future, you should learn from her. Don't be so arrogant and look down on everyone all the time. I'll have the finance department transfer your dad's funds later tonight."

With that, Derek hung up.

And listening to the dial tone, I finally couldn't hold back the torment in my heart and burst into tears.

Especially when, through my tear-filled eyes, I saw the high school graduation photo of Derek and me displayed in the room.

The pain surging in my chest instantly felt like a thousand sharp blades piercing my heart.

Derek and I were high school classmates. But, unfortunately, he was a scholarship student, and I came from money.

Because our circles were different, our social lives different, even after being classmates for three years, I'd probably exchanged no more than ten sentences with him.

And back then, I had a boyfriend.

After high school, I went abroad, and my boyfriend and I broke up amicably due to the long distance.

Then, I returned to the country. It was at my dad's company that I ran into Derek.

He was a vendor coming to discuss a partnership.

Seeing me, Derek immediately called out my name. It took me a long time to remember who he was.

But after that, Derek began to pursue me relentlessly. My dad was happy about it, saying Derek was self-made and capable, someone destined for great things. And I, too, felt a certain fondness for Derek. He was gentle and polite, witty and humorous, a top student from a renowned university, and he had even started his own company.

Derek and I were together for two years when he told me he'd loved me for ten. I was swept away by the romance of it.

So when he proposed a year later, I didn't hesitate.

Back then, I thought I was the luckiest woman alive to have found my perfect match.

Then came our wedding night. Derek, drunk, slurred the words that shattered my reality.

"Willow... why aren't you like you were at eighteen?"

In that moment, a cold dread seized me.

But he never slipped again, treating me with the same devotion as before. I convinced myself I'd imagined it.

It wasn't until Derek's cheating video surfaced, until I met that girl today.

The clothes she wore were my favorite brand from eighteen. The mole by her eye was a near-perfect copy of mine. And in that moment, I understood everything.

Derek never loved the woman I had become.

He always loved the eighteen-year-old girl he could never have back then.

My heart ached with suffocation, and that night, I developed a high fever.

Maria tried to persuade me to go to the hospital several times, but I refused.

I didn't know who I was trying to spite, but all I knew was that there was a huge, empty space in my chest.

It wasn't until the middle of the night, when blood started gushing from my lower body, staining my pajamas and the sheets beneath me, that I panicked with terror.

I started screaming hysterically for Maria.

I started hysterically calling Derek.

But Derek, like always, didn't pick up.

The blood kept coming. Then the contractions seized me-hard and wrong. That's when the hysteria won.

Sobbing, I managed to grab my phone and call my parents.

I don't know what I said on the phone. The only thought my mind could hold was that I was dying.

And my baby was dying too.

Everything after that was a fractured nightmare. The ambulance. My mom and dad, each gripping a hand, their voices trembling.

"Willow, stay awake."

"Honey, please, don't close your eyes."

I felt my lips move, but no sound came out.

The next thing I knew, I was under the harsh lights of the ER. And there he was.

Derek's hair was wild, his shirt misbuttoned, collar askew.

He was a storm of fury and panic, shoving towards the operating room doors.

"Willow, don't die! Please don't die!"

The words had barely left his mouth before my dad's fist connected with his face.

After that, everything went black.

When I finally swam back to consciousness and my eyes fluttered open, my mother gasped. She rushed to my bedside, her face crumpling as she clutched my hand.

"Willow, I promise you, you can divorce him. We'll do it. Your father has a plan. We'll sell the house, the cars. I don't care if we have to live on the street, you are divorcing that man."

A wave of relief washed through me, so profound it could only escape as silent tears.

"Okay."