Chapter 3

Julian's pupils contracted violently, and his expression darkened to an even uglier shade. It was as if he had just heard the most absurd joke in the world.

"Do you actually think threatening me with divorce is going to work, Elara? You think you can escape your responsibilities like this?"

"Divorce? Fine. But don't even think about it until you publicly apologize to Celine and clear her name! You sit in here and reflect on what you've done. Call me only when you've figured it out!"

With that, he spun around and stormed out of the hospital room, slamming the door shut with a deafening crash once again.

I stared at the closed door, a smile curving my lips.

I picked up my phone and dialed a lawyer I had saved in my contacts.

"Hello, Attorney Smith? I need you to draft a divorce agreement for me. The sooner, the better. Also, I need you to contact the police for me. I'd like to file a police report—someone attempted to murder me."

The following morning, the door to my hospital room was pushed open once again.

This time, Julian walked in pushing a wheelchair. Seated in it was the very woman currently receiving the entire internet's sympathy—the ultimate "victim," Celine.

"Elara, are you feeling any better?" Celine asked, instantly shifting into a tearful, fragile expression the moment she saw me.

I sat perfectly still on my bed, not even bothering to bat an eyelid.

Seeing me ignore her, Celine bit her lower lip as if horribly wronged. She turned to Julian, her voice quivering. "Julian, look, Elara is still mad at me... Maybe I should just leave. I really don't want to be the reason your marriage falls apart."

"What did you do wrong? She's the one at fault!" Julian instantly grasped Celine's hand, comforting her softly before snapping his gaze to me, his eyes turning instantly hostile.

"Elara, Celine came all the way here to check on you despite her own injuries, and this is the attitude you give her?"

I finally set my phone down, sweeping a frigid glance over the two of them.

"Are you done looking? If so, you can leave. I need to rest."

"You—!" Julian, utterly provoked by my indifference, lunged forward and snatched my phone away. "What kind of temper tantrum are you throwing now? Did everything I said yesterday go in one ear and out the other?! You will record that apology video for Celine today!"

"Julian, stop pushing her." Celine tugged gently at the hem of his shirt from her wheelchair. A fleeting gleam of triumph flashed in her eyes. "Elara just slipped up in a moment of confusion. I really don't blame her. As long as she doesn't do something this foolish again, I'm willing to forgive her."

Just listen to that. So immensely understanding, so absurdly magnanimous.

"Celine, you're far too kind for your own good. That's exactly why she keeps bullying you!" Julian looked at her with aching tenderness, then whipped his head around to roar at me. "Elara, look at Celine, and then look at yourself! You don't even compare to her pinky finger! Apologize. Now. Otherwise, I will get the police involved immediately and press charges against you for attempted murder!"

He thought this threat would terrify me.

After all, in the past, the mere mention of divorce or police involvement would send me into a sheer panic, desperately begging for his forgiveness.

But right now, I merely looked at him in silence, as if watching a ridiculous clown.

I reached under my pillow, pulled out the divorce settlement I had couriered over overnight, and slapped it right onto his chest.

"Sign it," I said, my voice eerily calm. "Once you sign, you can sue me, call the cops, do whatever you want. But I'll tell you this right now—an apology is never going to happen."

Julian froze. He looked down at the document now resting on the floor, the bold words "Divorce Agreement" glaring up at him.

His face flushed a furious, violent red, the veins on his forehead bulging.

"Elara, are you serious right now?" he snarled, looking as if he had just suffered the ultimate insult. "You think waving some trash document in my face is gonna force me to bow your way? Let me spell it out for you: No way in hell! Until you clear Celine's name, don't even dream of walking away from this!"

Saying that, he lifted his heavy boot and stomped down viciously on the divorce agreement, grinding it right into the floor.

"It doesn't matter if you refuse to sign," I scoffed coldly. "After a six-month separation, I will unilaterally file for a divorce through the court."

Celine's eyes widened, turning red as heavy tears began to dramatically spill over her cheeks. "Elara, please don't divorce Julian because of me..."

I shot Celine an icy glare, a mocking smirk curling my lips. "Celine, you're really wasting your acting talents by not going to Hollywood."

"Elara! You are absolutely hopeless!" Julian pointed a trembling finger right at my face, shouting in fury. "I must have been utterly blind to marry you! A selfish, venomous woman like you—someone who would play with lives just out of jealousy—doesn't deserve to be loved by anyone!"

Just then, the ward door was pushed open once more.

My attending doctor walked in. He took one look at the heavily tense, hostile atmosphere in the room and frowned slightly, but he walked straight over to my bedside anyway.

"Excuse me for interrupting." The doctor handed me a clipboard with a document. "This is the consent form for the D&C procedure following your miscarriage. I just need you to sign it once more to confirm."

Julian, who had just been screaming insults at me, suddenly froze. It was as if someone had hit the pause button on him. He rooted to the spot instantly.

"What procedure? What... miscarriage?"

The doctor shot him a deeply confused look. "Elara inhaled a massive amount of toxic smoke during the fire, and she was already hemorrhaging by the time she was brought in. Unfortunately, we couldn't save the ten-week-old fetus."

"Ten... weeks...?"

Julian slowly lowered his gaze to my abdomen. It was as flat as ever, yet it had once cradled his own flesh and blood.

"Our baby... is gone?" he murmured to himself, his voice sounding entirely hollow. He stumbled blindly backward a couple of steps, looking completely shattered, as if unable to process the weight of that reality.