Chapter 2

My throat started to swell, and my neck began to itch.

Something was wrong. Badly wrong. This allergic reaction was coming on far too hard.

But by the time I understood how bad it was, my mind was already going hazy and every breath came harder than the last.

Genevieve tossed a stack of files at me.

"Mr. Sanchez is training me himself today, so I'll leave all these to you, Ursula."

When I stayed hunched over and said nothing, she shoved me.

I went straight to the floor, face bloodless, gulping for air.

Burton came bursting out of his office and ran toward me in long strides, and I reached out to him on instinct.

But Genevieve, her little face gone pale, gave his sleeve a light tug.

"Mr. Sanchez, I really didn't touch her."

Burton stopped dead. He was quiet for a moment, then smoothed his hand over her hair.

"Don't be scared."

My outstretched hand fell weakly back down, and everything sank into an endless dark.

When I came to again, I was in the maternity ward.

A nurse came over when she saw I was awake.

"Stop looking. No one came for you. Some woman said anyone who took leave would lose their bonus, so nobody showed up."

"That boss of yours wanted to come himself. One look from that woman and he changed his mind and told you to come on your own."

I closed my eyes. Even a heart already numb could still feel that.

The doctor came over.

"Do you know what triggered the allergy?"

"Iced lemon tea. I'm allergic to lemon."

The doctor sucked in a sharp breath.

"You knew, and you still drank it? Ten more minutes and you wouldn't have made it here alive."

"I'm sorry. It was never this severe before."

The doctor was in no mood.

"Is now the same as before? Do you even know you're pregnant?"

"Women in early pregnancy are more sensitive. Allergic reactions hit much harder."

I froze, my hand drifting to my belly without thinking.

Seeing how stunned I was, the doctor's expression softened.

"The allergy has brought on a threatened miscarriage, but we'll do everything we can to save it."

"By the way, where's your family? Letting a pregnant woman check in alone is really something."

Family? Probably still at the office, working. Because... we had to avoid the appearance of impropriety.

"Thank you, doctor. But please schedule me for the miscarriage procedure as soon as possible."

At noon the nurse was kind enough to bring me a boxed lunch from the hospital.

I ate while scrolling, and Genevieve's post came up.

"Working hard, poor me. Thanks to boss for treating me to a homemade work lunch~"

The photo was of the very restaurant I'd always wanted to go to, with Burton attentively setting her place.

Coworkers had left teasing comments.

"My ship is sailing! Mr. Sanchez is so sweet to her!"

"If that's not going official, what is? I'll drag the marriage office over here for you two myself!"

Burton had liked it right below, not caring who saw.

I touched my belly, and the rice in my mouth suddenly tasted bitter.

For five years, to avoid the appearance of impropriety, he had watched with cold eyes while people drank me under the table at business dinners, refused to let me ride home in his car even in a downpour, and held down my promotions again and again.

I'd never thought any of it was strange.

Not until Genevieve joined the company did I learn that appearances only mattered with certain people.

Some people, the moment they appeared, could break every one of Burton's rules.

He could accept her confession in front of everyone, break his own rules to jump her three levels, let the whole company see how he favored her.

That afternoon, half an hour before the procedure, Burton finally showed up.

He touched my forehead with concern, confirming I was all right, as if I were someone who mattered to him.

Something in me stirred. I held out the pregnancy report.

"Burton, I'm preg—"

"Ursula, if you're fine, why did you make such a scene? People will think Genevieve bullied you."

I choked, the words jammed in my throat.

So he hadn't come because he cared about me. He'd come to hold court for Genevieve.

"You're a grown woman. Don't stoop to a young girl's level. Come back to the office and explain yourself to everyone."

"Right, what were you going to say?"

He reached for the pregnancy report.

I pulled my hand back and tucked the report under me.

"Nothing. It's not anything important."

He didn't press. He just tucked the edge of my blanket in and hurried off.

The next moment, the nurse changed me into a sterile gown and wheeled me into the operating room.

If he hadn't forced me to drink that iced lemon tea.

If he'd brought me to the hospital right away.

If he'd noticed this was the maternity ward and asked one more question.

If he hadn't come in demanding answers instead of hearing me out first.

Then this child, I thought, would have been the last chance between him and me.

But he didn't.

Maybe this was just fate.

The anesthetic went in, and once again I lost all consciousness.

……