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With a deafening crash, everything went black.
Half–conscious, I caught Kendric’s conversation with a doctor.
“Catriona miscarried?” Kendric asked.
“Forget about her,” he continued. “All that matters is that the baby inside Julie is okay. Send every doc- tor and nurse over to her. I’ll watch over this one myself.”
Then the door opened, and Kendric walked in.
The moment our eyes met, a flicker of awkwardness crossed his face.
“I didn’t know you were pregnant,” he said with a stiff, uneasy tone.
“But a miscarriage isn’t the end of the world–it’s not even your first.
“Now that the baby’s gone, you can focus on taking care of Julie and her child.”
I stayed silent, but for some reason, my mind went back to our first child.
At that time, Kendric had just gotten together with Juliette.
She threw a fit, crying that she didn’t want to ruin his family.
To reassure her, Kendric forced me to take an abortion pill.
“Getting pregnant won’t change anything between us,” he’d told me. “I hate kids–especially yours.”
Because of the botched medication, I had to undergo a D&C.
When I was wheeled out of the operating room, I received photos from Juliette.
While I was bleeding out, she and Kendric were having a three–day marathon of passionate sex inside
our home.
The trash was piled with dozens of used condoms.
The antique bed I’d brought now stood with a broken leg–a testament to the intensity of their lovemak- ing.
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Kendric even framed the bloody handkerchief from Juliette’s first night and hung it on the wall, replac- ing our wedding photo.
From that day on, I stopped expecting anything from him.
I held onto the marriage only to maintain the business ties between our families.
I lowered my gaze and said nothing. Kendric handed me a mug.
“I made you chicken soup. Have some before it gets cold.”
Just as I lifted my arm, a sharp pain shot through it.
Before I could ask what had happened, Kendric guiltily looked away.
“Julie got hurt in the car crash. She’s obsessive with her looks, and I didn’t want her to scar, so… I had a piece of your skin transplanted onto her.”
“What?” I asked, shocked.
Instead of remorse, irritation flared in him.
“Don’t play the victim. If you hadn’t darted into the street out of nowhere and scared her, she wouldn’t have been hurt! This is all your fault–you have to make it right!”
Worked up, he slammed the table, knocking over the chicken soup. The scalding liquid splashed across my thigh, burning my skin red.
Fighting back tears, I reached for the call button.
But Kendric grabbed my wrist.
“Julie’s in pain after surgery. She needs the doctors with her.
“You’re tough–you can handle it. Stop being dramatic.”
Blood seeped from the wound on my arm.
Just as I was about to speak, a doctor rushed in.
“Ms. Firth is showing severe rejection. She needs another surgery.”
At that, Kendric yanked me to my feet and dragged me toward Juliette’s room.
The moment he saw Juliette’s tear–filled eyes, his expression softened with undisguised tenderness.
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“Don’t be scared, Julie. Catriona has plenty of skin. If it still doesn’t work this time, we’ll just try again and again…”
The doctor immediately cut him off.
“Mr. Holloway, we can’t do that. The donor’s body takes serious damage from each surgery. If we do it again, your wife’s arm will be ruined. She won’t be able to play the piano again.”
Without a second thought, Kendric shoved me forward.
“Perfect. If she can’t play, Julie can take her place as first chair.”
Then he turned to me. “You can just be a housewife. I’ll provide for you forever.”
To ensure the procedure went smoothly, he even ordered the doctor not to give me anesthesia.
As I lay there, drenched in sweat, face drained of all color, he gave my shoulder a light, almost guilty,
pat.
“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll… come home more often.”
Behind us, Juliette clicked her tongue in annoyance.
Kendric immediately turned back, scooping her into his arms.
He showered her with gifts and money, promising to whisk her off to the Maldives, as if I no longer ex- isted.
Right then, my phone rang, cutting through his endless stream of