Chapter 1

After I gave birth to Miles James's daughter, my pelvic floor tore badly.

The doctor told Miles I couldn't resume any sex life.

He agreed with a smile, said my health mattered most.

Then my sister, Nora Henson, sent him a video.

In it, I was doing my postpartum recovery training.

The male therapist was crouched in front of me, one hand steadying my waist, the other helping me adjust how my pelvis engaged.

Miles tossed the phone down and let out a cold laugh.

"Mabel Henson, three whole months you wouldn't let me touch you."

"Turns out it's just me you can't stand touching you?"

I stared at him, unable to believe it.

"This is rehab therapy."

Nora rushed over at once, eyes reddening, and grabbed his arm.

"Miles, don't talk about her like that."

"After a woman gives birth, her hormones are all over the place. It's normal for her needs to suddenly get stronger."

"Mr. Simmons works with new mothers every day. Maybe... he really does understand her better than you do."

Miles's face went completely cold.

"I've worked plenty of sexual assault cases."

"Whether a man touching you is treatment, or something you want yourself, I can tell the difference."

In that moment, it hit me.

This man, who had once spoken up for countless women who'd been hurt.

He didn't seem worth loving anymore.

1

Miles looked at me coldly.

"Mabel, starting tomorrow, you stop the postpartum training."

I shook my head.

"I won't stop."

His face darkened.

I kept going.

"The doctor just told me yesterday my wound has some fresh bleeding again. I have to go back in tomorrow for a check."

"I'm not going to gamble with my own body over a few paranoid ideas you can't even explain."

Nora came over right away.

"Sis, Miles just cares about you too much. Don't fight with him over a rehab therapist."

My head snapped around.

"What do you mean, over a rehab therapist?"

Her shoulders shrank in fright, and her eyes went red in an instant.

"I'm sorry, Sis."

"I just think Mr. Simmons really does understand your body best right now."

Then, as if it had suddenly dawned on her, she waved her hands in a panic.

"I didn't mean it like that! Miles, don't read into it."

But his face had already gone black.

"Understands her body best?"

Nora bit her lip, and tears dropped down.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have said anything."

Miles just patted her hand.

"What does it have to do with you?"

"She's the one with a guilty conscience."

I couldn't be bothered to explain any further and turned to go back to my room.

Early the next morning.

I got dressed and had just reached the door.

Miles stepped in front of me.

"Where are you going?"

"The hospital."

"Was I not clear enough yesterday?"

I looked up at him.

"I was clear too. I need the checkup. My wound bled again last night. I have to go for treatment today."

Nora heard our voices and came running out.

"Miles, don't do this. Her health comes first."

"And Mr. Simmons really does understand her better than anyone else."

"Every time she comes back from him, she's positively glowing."

She paused, then, as if terrified Miles would take it the wrong way, hurried to explain.

"I mean her physical condition! Nothing else."

Miles's face grew uglier by the second.

I couldn't hold back and snapped at her.

"Nora, shut up!"

Her tears spilled at once.

"Sis... I really am doing this for your own good."

"Your hormones aren't stable after the birth. Having needs is nothing to be ashamed of."

"You don't have to blow up at me over it..."

I knocked the cup right out of her hand.

"I'm only going to the hospital for rehab, and you keep going on about needs. Who's really got a filthy mind here?"

Miles finally lost it completely.

"Enough!"

He snatched my phone from me.

He took the car keys too.

"You're not going anywhere today. When you've calmed down, we'll talk."

He grabbed my wrist and shoved me into the bedroom.

I lost my footing, and my lower belly dropped hard.

The wound that had barely started to heal shot through with pain.

The door locked from the outside.

No phone in the room. No water.

No matter how I pounded on the door, there was never a single sound in answer.

A few hours later, my lower belly started to feel heavy and dragging.

Little by little, the pain grew sharper.

Like someone deep inside me kept pulling downward.

I gripped the bed and pushed myself up.

I'd barely taken one step when there was a sudden warmth below.

I looked down. A small patch of bright red had already spread across my sleep pants.

My heart lurched into panic.

The doctor had warned me over and over.

At this stage, the greatest danger was the wound splitting open again.

And above all, no visible fresh blood.

I stumbled to the door and pounded on it again with everything I had.

"Miles! Open the door!"

"I'm bleeding!"