After leaving the hospital, I'd gone straight to the grocery store, filling my cart with ingredients for a perfect dinner. I'd spent the afternoon cooking, cleaning, and preparing.

I smoothed down the front of my dress and checked my reflection in the polished surface of our refrigerator. The dark circles under my eyes were still visible despite my careful makeup application. I looked tired, fragile. But there was something else there too—a glimmer of hope that hadn't been present for weeks.

"Alice?" Jaxon's voice carried from the foyer, tinged with surprise. He appeared in the doorway, his tailored suit impeccable as always, his expression wary. "What's all this?"

"I thought we should talk," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I made dinner."

He glanced at his watch. "I have calls to make before tomorrow's committee meeting."

"Please," I said softly. "It's important."

Something in my tone must have reached him because he sighed and loosened his tie. "Fine. Twenty minutes."

I poured wine for him, water for myself—a detail he didn't notice as he sat down and immediately checked his phone. I served the food with shaking hands, rehearsing the words I'd practiced all afternoon.

"You're not eating?" he asked, noticing I'd barely touched my plate.

This was my opening. I took a deep breath.

"Jaxon, I found out something today." My voice quavered. "I'm pregnant."

The words hung in the air between us. I watched his face, searching for any flicker of joy, any softening of his features. For a moment, there was nothing—just blank surprise as he processed my words.

Then his expression hardened, eyes turning cold and calculating.

"How far along?" he asked, his voice flat.

"Six weeks," I whispered, the hope in my chest beginning to crack. "Jaxon, we're going to have a baby."

He set down his fork with deliberate care. "No, we're not."

The words hit me like physical blows. "What?"

"You need to handle this situation, Alice." His voice was clinical, detached. "I'm eight months away from announcing my candidacy for state senate. This is the worst possible timing."

"Handle the situation?" I repeated, tears welling in my eyes. "This is our child, Jaxon. Our baby."

"It's a political liability," he countered, his jaw tight. "The campaign requires my full attention, and yours as the supportive wife. A pregnancy, a newborn—it would derail everything we've worked for."

"Everything you've worked for," I corrected, my voice breaking. "What about what I want? I want this baby, Jaxon. I want a family."

His laugh was cold. "Don't be naive. A child doesn't fit into our lives right now."

The doorbell rang, cutting through our conversation like a knife. Jaxon's expression shifted from annoyance to something darker.

"That's probably Olivia," he said, standing. "I asked her to stop by to discuss the charity gala next month."

My stomach twisted. "You invited her here? Tonight?"

He didn't answer, already moving toward the door. I sat frozen, one hand protectively covering my abdomen, as voices drifted from the foyer. Then Olivia swept into the dining room, her perfume overpowering the food I'd spent hours preparing.

"Alice!" Her smile was predatory. "How... domestic. Playing house tonight, are we?"

Jaxon returned to his seat, not bothering to explain the candles or the intimate setting to Olivia. Instead, he said bluntly, "Alice is pregnant."

Olivia's eyes widened, then narrowed as they fixed on me. "Oh, Alice. Was this your little plan? Trap Jaxon with a baby when you realized you weren't enough for him?"

"That's not—" I began, but she cut me off.

"Honey, a baby won't save your marriage." Her voice dripped with false sympathy. "And frankly, do you really think you're stable enough to be a mother? The way you've been acting lately—working yourself to exhaustion, barely eating?"

Jaxon nodded. "She nearly collapsed at the hospital today."

The betrayal of him sharing this with her stung fresh. "How did you—"

"Dr. Chen called my office," he said dismissively. "See? You can't even take care of yourself. Olivia's right."

"The poor child," Olivia murmured, placing her hand on Jaxon's arm. "Better not to be born than to have a mother who's falling apart."

I stared at them, these two people who had once been the closest to me, now united in their cruelty. Tears streamed down my face.

"Please," I whispered, looking directly at Jaxon. "Please don't ask me to do this."

"I'm not asking," he said coldly. "I'm telling you what needs to happen. I'll make an appointment at a private clinic. Discrete, expensive—no one will ever know."

"I'll know," I said, my voice breaking. "This is our child, Jaxon."

"No," he replied, standing abruptly. "It's a complication we don't need."

The next hours passed in a blur of tears and pleading. I followed Jaxon from room to room in our apartment, trying every argument I could think of. A family would humanize him to voters. Children photographed well for campaigns. We could time the announcement to coincide with his family values platform.

Olivia remained, watching my desperation with thinly veiled satisfaction, occasionally offering her own cutting remarks about my fitness as a mother.

Near midnight, Jaxon finally turned to me, his patience visibly exhausted.

"Enough, Alice. This discussion is over. Either you terminate this pregnancy, or our marriage is over. It's that simple."

I stared at him, finally seeing with perfect clarity the man I had married. Not the charismatic politician who had swept me off my feet, but a cold, calculating stranger who viewed even his own child as nothing more than an inconvenience.

"You don't mean that," I whispered, one final, desperate attempt.

"Try me," he replied, his eyes unflinching. "The appointment is tomorrow at 10 AM. I've already called in a favor with Dr. Levinson. You'll sign the consent forms, or you'll find your belongings packed when you return home."

As I collapsed onto our sofa, my tears finally spent, I felt the tiny spark of hope I'd been nurturing extinguish completely. In its place grew something new—a cold, hard seed of hatred for the man who stood before me, demanding I sacrifice our child for his ambition.

What terrified me most wasn't his ultimatum. It was the realization that, with nowhere to go and my career hanging by the thread of his political connections, I might actually have to comply.

I stared at the consent forms on the desk before me, the words blurring through my tears. My hand trembled as I held the pen, unable to bring myself to sign away the life growing inside me.

"The longer you drag this out, the harder it will be," Olivia said from the chair beside me, examining her manicured nails with feigned boredom. "Just sign it, Alice. We all know you will eventually."

I looked up at her, this woman I had once called my best friend, now watching my torment with barely concealed satisfaction. "Why are you even here? Where's Jaxon?"

"Important meeting with campaign donors," she replied with a dismissive wave. "He asked me to make sure you... followed through." The slight pause and the curl of her lip made it clear—I was just another task to be managed, an inconvenience to be handled.

"He said if I don't do this..." My voice caught on the words.

"He'll divorce you and ruin your career," Olivia finished for me, her voice matter-of-fact. "We both know he can do it, Alice. The hospital board chairman plays golf with him every Sunday."

The pen felt impossibly heavy in my hand. I thought of the baby—six weeks, barely formed, but already mine to protect. And I was failing.

"I can't," I whispered.

Olivia leaned forward, her perfume overwhelming in the small space. "Think about it, Alice. What kind of life would this child have with a mother who's falling apart? You can barely take care of yourself. And Jaxon has made it clear he wants no part of it."

"Sign the papers," she continued, her voice softening to a mockery of compassion. "Put this mistake behind you. In time, when Jaxon's career is established, maybe you can try again. When the timing is right."

With tears streaming down my face, I signed my name on the line, feeling something vital break inside me.

Olivia's smile was triumphant as she took the forms. "Good girl. I'll let the doctor know you're ready."

The procedure itself passed in a haze of sedation and grief. I was awake but detached, floating somewhere above my body as they took my baby from me. I heard the doctor's clinical instructions, felt the cold instruments, but my mind had retreated to a place where this wasn't happening.

"All done," Dr. Levinson said eventually, his voice professionally neutral. "You'll experience some cramping and bleeding for a few days. Take it easy."

In the recovery room, Olivia sat scrolling through her phone, barely glancing up when I emerged. "Finally. Ready to go?"

The drive home was torture. Every bump in the road sent pain through my empty womb. Olivia filled the silence with casual cruelty.

"You're being so dramatic about this, Alice. Women have abortions every day. It's not like it was even a real baby yet."

I pressed my forehead against the cool window glass, letting her words wash over me without response. There was nothing left to say. I felt hollow, scraped out from the inside.

When we reached the penthouse, Olivia didn't bother coming up. "Jaxon will be home late. Don't wait up." Her parting smile was all teeth. "Take your pain meds. You'll feel better tomorrow."

I knew I wouldn't.

The apartment was silent and cold when I entered. On the kitchen counter sat a note in Jaxon's precise handwriting: "Fundraiser tonight. Made the right choice. We'll move forward now."

No words of comfort. No acknowledgment of my loss. Just the cold calculus of his ambition.

I stumbled to the master bathroom, locking the door behind me. Sinking to the floor, I finally let myself break completely. Great, heaving sobs tore from my chest, echoing against the marble tiles.

I cried for my baby, for the family I'd never have, for the woman I used to be who believed in love and marriage and happily ever after.

My gaze drifted to Jaxon's side of the bathroom counter, where his straight razor gleamed under the vanity lights. He insisted on using it, claiming electric razors were for men who lacked precision. The irony wasn't lost on me as I reached for it with trembling fingers.

I pressed the cool metal against my left wrist, feeling a strange calm settle over me. One quick, deep stroke and crimson bloomed against my pale skin. The pain was distant, almost pleasant compared to the agony in my heart.

The last thing I saw before consciousness slipped away was the bathroom door splintering open and Sora's horrified face appearing above me.

"Alice! Oh God, Alice, stay with me!"

But I was already floating away, toward a darkness that promised an end to pain.