Chapter 4

I woke in a private hospital room. Again.

Chloe was by my side, her eyes red-rimmed.

"You've been in and out for three days," she whispered, her voice thick with tears.

Three days.

Then, the news. Delivered by a kind, solemn doctor.

I'd been pregnant. Very early stages.

Conceived during a rare moment of... reconciliation with Ethan. A night I barely remembered even before the amnesia.

The fall. The impact.

I'd lost the baby.

A baby I never knew I was carrying.

The words hung in the sterile air, heavy, suffocating.

The door burst open.

Ethan. His face was a mask of cold fury.

"Still playing the victim, Sarah? Trying to harm Isabelle out of spite?"

Harm Isabelle? My mind reeled.

"She faked it," I managed, my voice weak. "She pushed me."

He scoffed. "Lies. Always lies."

He grabbed my arm, trying to pull me out of the hospital bed.

"Ethan, stop!" Chloe rushed forward, pushing him back. "She has amnesia! She doesn't even remember you! And... and..."

Chloe's voice broke. A torrent of emotion.

"She was pregnant, Ethan! She lost the baby because of that fall! Your baby!"

Ethan froze. For a split second, his face went slack, stunned.

Then Isabelle was there, wailing from the doorway where she'd followed him.

"Her lies are stressing me so much! She's trying to ruin everything!"

Ethan's face hardened again, the brief flicker of shock extinguished.

He dragged me, literally dragged me from the bed, ignoring Chloe's protests, ignoring my pain, to a private waiting room where Isabelle was being "comforted" by a nurse.

Isabelle launched into a dramatic, tearful recounting of her "ordeal," how I'd supposedly attacked her.

Ethan turned to me, his voice like ice.

"To make amends for the distress and public embarrassment you've caused Isabelle and the Cartwright family, you will issue a public apology. Then you will go quietly to a remote wellness retreat my family owns. For rehabilitation."

His eyes were devoid of any emotion but disdain.

"Or," he continued, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper, "I will publicly annul our engagement on grounds of mental instability. And I will ensure your family's business faces... unforeseen difficulties."

I looked at him. Really looked at him.

The man I supposedly loved, the man whose child I had unknowingly carried and lost.

All I saw was a cruel, hollow shell.

A strange clarity settled over me.

"Alright, Ethan," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "I'll go to your retreat."

He looked taken aback by my quick agreement.

"This is the last thing I will ever do for you," I added, meeting his gaze. "Consider our ties severed."

I turned and walked out, each step an effort, but each step taking me further away.

He watched me go, a flicker of something – doubt? unease? – in his eyes before he turned back to Isabelle.