Chapter 4

He was like a still, lifeless pond.

So calm it terrified me.

I only heard that afterward, his friends never dared to mention my name in front of him.

He’d flip out if they did.

I get it.

A big shot like him, brought low by something so trivial? He must've been furious. But to say he hated me? I probably wasn't even worth his hatred.

After graduation, I moved back to my hometown city for work.

My salary was $4500 a month, and my mom arranged ten blind dates for me a year.

I’d gone on over a hundred, big and small, and I was completely numb to it all.

Which is why this time, when Mrs. Gable introduced us, we settled on the wedding plans less than a month after meeting.

He was a thirty-year-old elementary school teacher from a small town, stable job, parents lived in the countryside, and he had a younger brother in high school.

"A guy with his conditions isn't easy to find. How much could his brother's high school and college cost anyway?"

"You're twenty-eight, if you don't get married soon, you'll only be looking at divorced guys."

"And these divorced guys with kids, if they knew you had a sister like that at home, they'd probably be even harder to snag."

...

My mom sat at the table, nodding meekly, her voice low.

"Make sure you ask them clearly, they don't mind our family, right?"

"Tell them not to worry, Skylar's sister won't be a burden. We're still young, we can still work..."

Every time I saw my mom like that, it just annoyed me.

I felt like a bargain-bin item, clearly priced and ready to be sold off.

My mom fawningly saw Mrs. Gable out, stuffing a big red envelope into her hand as she left.

Everything was ready.

Then, that thing happened to me.

My mom was so mad she didn't speak to me for days.

But anger aside, within a few days, she showed up in the city with a cardboard box of eggs.

Her coat was wrapped around the box, and inside were bags of rice. My mom’s hair was a mess, but not a single egg was broken.

"Did you go to the hospital for a check-up?" My mom carefully placed the eggs in the fridge, then turned to ask me.

"Check-up for what?" I fiddled with my phone. "No."

"To see what the baby looks like, of course! You, this child, why are you so careless?" My mom started pulling me towards the door.

"What's there to see?"

I pulled away.

"You really don't plan on keeping it?"

My mom looked at me worriedly.

The atmosphere grew awkward.

I fell silent.

It wasn't that I didn't want it; it was that *he* didn't want it.

"You're not getting any younger. If you don't keep this one, what if it's hard to have another later?"

"You've been going on blind dates anyway. Find that boy, and your dad and I can meet him. If he's decent, just go ahead and get married."

Get married?

She was really dreaming big, dreaming beautiful.

"Just leave it alone. I'll go to the hospital for the procedure in a couple of days." I brushed my mom off.

My mom heard my resolute tone and wanted to persuade me again.

"Don't be impulsive. That's a life," my mom insisted as I closed the door.

"Is that how you had Lily back then?" I blurted out.

"..." My mom instantly clammed up.

Her eyes looked deeply hurt.

Lily was my younger sister.

And my mom’s absolute Achilles’ heel.

She was ten years old this year, couldn't speak, and had epilepsy.

After I'd driven her away like that, my chest felt tight.

Every time I said those things, I felt like I was retaliating, but then quickly regretted it.

I picked up my phone, booked an appointment, and headed to the hospital.

On the way, I even seriously considered my mom's words, "What if you just get married?"

I wondered, if I married Liam, would I be willing?

How could I not be willing? That was once my dream.

Passing the emergency department on the first floor, I instantly spotted Liam.

A group of nurses and doctors were frantically working on a newly arrived patient.

He was in his white coat, having just inserted a breathing tube, and even his profile view made my breath catch.

So I thought, even if I could go back in time, I still wouldn't have been able to push him away that night at the reunion.

The moment I saw him, he saw me too.

He only gave me a hurried glance for a second before looking away, continuing the resuscitation.

He was so busy.

I didn't dare to disturb him, so I just sat on a chair outside, waiting.

I'd made up my mind. Even if he rejected me again, I had to get answers.

Why had he acted so passionately towards me at the reunion that night, only to deny it afterward?

Even if he didn't acknowledge it, he should at least come with me for the procedure...

I didn't have the money.

In the ten minutes I waited for him, I thought of so many possibilities.

Each one, I planned out my escape route.

But everything crumbled when I opened my Ins, and saw his latest post...

"Liam Miller: Six pounds, six ounces. Mother and son are doing well."

My heart lurched violently, as if all the strength had been drained from me.

He was married, and he had a child. Born today.

No wonder he didn't acknowledge what happened that night.

No wonder he didn't want the baby.