Opening her eyes again, Kimberly found herself in the hospital.

"You awake?" A nurse adjusted her IV drip. "How are you feeling? You were so pale when they brought you in. Scared the heck out of us."

From the nurse, Kimberly learned that the building manager had rushed her to the ER and tried contacting Richard via the owners' group chat.

"She's a grown woman," he'd snapped. "Can't she handle a minor issue without bothering me?"

He had hung up without sending a single concerned text. He'd completely forgotten about her claustrophobia.

Bitterness surged through her as memories flooded back.

In high school, when bullies locked her in a dark storage room, it was Richard who'd smashed the door open, ignoring his bleeding hands as he held her close. "Kimbie, don't be scared. I've got you."

The next day, he'd beaten the bullies senseless. "She has claustrophobia, terrified of the dark! Do you realize locking her in there nearly sent her into shock?"

He'd gone berserk, earning himself in-school suspension, but it let the whole school know the orphaned Kimberly had someone watching her back.

When had he started forgetting? Kimberly pulled out the IV needle.

The nurse yelped, "Hey, don't remove that."

"I'm fine now," Kimberly said, shaking her head. "No need for the drip."

The nurse frowned. "Come on. Don't throw tantrums like that. You're gonna be a mom."

Kimberly stiffened, turning in disbelief. "A mom? Me?"

"We drew blood when you passed out," the nurse explained. "The doctor reviewed the labs personally. You're three months along. Didn't you notice anything?"

Kimberly's mind blanked out. The nurse's lips moved, but she heard nothing.

Why now, of all times, when she was planning to divorce him? She stumbled out of the room, torn about what to do with this unexpected pregnancy.

Just then, Richard hurried toward her. She stopped, but he blew right past like she was invisible, veering into a nearby room.

She paused, then followed instinctively. To her surprise, it was the gynecology department.

Minutes later, Lotta emerged with a report in hand, her eyes red and puffy. One after another, they headed to the stairwell.

"You heard the doctor," she sobbed. "After the miscarriage, my periods have been irregular and painful. Turns out it's a torn uterine lining. I... I might never have kids again."

"Don't worry," he soothed. "We'll have children. I still dream about the one you lost because of me."

"If our baby were still here, he'd be in elementary school now," she wept. "Promise me. You'll only have kids with me."

He pulled her into a hug, aching for her.

"Only with you, I promise."

"But what if Kimberly gets pregnant?"

He paused, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but she pressed on. "Unless, after I get pregnant, you get a vasectomy for me."

Kimberly's heart clenched. She expected him to refuse and explode in anger.

But after a brief pause, he murmured, "Okay. Anything you want."

Lotta smiled through her tears, clinging to Richard's arm as they walked away.

Kimberly let out a bitter laugh, not expecting his love for Lotta to run so deep that he'd get snipped for her.

She touched her belly, feeling the tiny life inside. This child would never know a father's love. Keeping it would only bring more pain, especially since she was moving on to a new marriage.

Wiping her tears, she made a call. "I need to schedule a pregnancy termination. As soon as possible."

The procedure was quick. Barely recovered, she received a call from Richard. "Where are you? You're not home."

"What is it?" she mumbled numbly.

He faltered at her cold tone. "Come on, don't be mad. I got you a custom anniversary gift. Come home and check it out."

Kimberly dragged her aching body back and opened the door, only to find Lotta there.

"Oh, Kimberly, you're back?" Lotta said, standing in the living room like she owned the place, directing workers as they moved things around.

In the center was a half-person-high sculpture, covered in cloth. When they unveiled it, Kimberly's eyes widened in horror.

It depicted a naked woman entangled with several men, ecstatic. It was unmistakably her face.

"You!" she gasped.

Lotta smirked viciously. "Richard's anniversary gift to you. Don't you like it? Art imitates life. I had a master sculptor create it just for you. Look at her face; it's spot-on, right?"

The sculpture depicted her past assault, and Kimberly's heart felt torn open. She slapped Lotta hard across the face, but the latter grinned triumphantly.

Spotting someone behind Kimberly, Lotta burst into tears. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I did wrong. Please don't hit me."

"Lotta!" Richard's voice rang out.

He rushed up and shoved Kimberly to the ground. "What is wrong with you? Why did you hit her?"

Kimberly stared up at him, the love in his eyes now replaced by pure venom.

"Why?" Her voice broke, tears streaming down. "Why tell her about that? Why?"

It was her deepest, most painful secret—one Richard had sworn to keep forever. Now Lotta had weaponized it, ripping open the scar and forcing her to relive the humiliation.

He finally clocked the sculpture, but Lotta feigned innocence. "I didn't know you'd hate my choice so much. Please accept my apology."

But Richard shielded her, glaring at Kimberly with disappointment. "I chose the gift. Why take it out on her? Apologize to her."

Kimberly wanted to explain, but the post-procedure pain reminded her it was pointless. What use was reasoning with him? He only sided with the one he loved.

"Don't even think about it!" she said firmly. "She knows exactly what she's doing. And Richard, we're getting a divorce."

Richard froze, grabbing Kimberly's wrist. "Divorce? You want to divorce me?"

Before she could respond, Lotta whimpered, "My belly hurts so much. Richard, don't fight with her. I..."

She passed out mid-sentence, and Richard glared at Kimberly. "This is absurd! Stay here and think about what you've done!"

He scooped up Lotta and bolted out.

Amid the grave silence, the workers gave Kimberly sympathetic glances before hurrying away.

She stood up, grabbed a kitchen knife, and smashed the sculpture into pieces. Her heart ached densely, more from humiliation than pain.

It turned out that when Richard stopped loving someone, he could be utterly cruel. For three days straight, he didn't come home, and Lotta didn't text her again.

When Kimberly tried sending him the divorce agreement, she found he'd blocked her number. Unsure of his whereabouts, she turned to his assistant, who answered, "Mr. Munoz is at the lounge, having drinks."

She followed the location to the upscale lounge. In a private room, Richard was confiding in his best friend.

"You really blocked Kimberly for that woman? Have you forgotten how good she's been to you all these years?" said his friend.

Richard winced. "I do love Kimberly. Even after what happened to her, I fought everyone to make her my wife. But every time we're in bed, that reluctant look on her face makes me feel like I'm forcing her. She can't forget it, and neither can I."

He took a deep drag on his cigarette, his eyes softening. "But Lotta's different. I was her first. She's been with me without demanding any status. I already owe her so much. She's just like Kimberly was back then: pure and innocent. She has this bucket list of things I always wanted to do with Kimberly. Being with Lotta feels like reliving my youth. She deserves better."

Kimberly's hand froze on the door. So, that was how he saw her.

Seven years ago, she'd endured that horror to save him. But in his telling, it made her sound tarnished and unwilling.

She stumbled out of the lounge, lost. Outside, rain poured down, just like that stormy night seven years ago.

Back then, Richard had proposed to her. He'd just started his business but was getting squeezed from all sides. Then he'd stolen a big contract from a rival, making enemies.

That night, he said he had to entertain clients. Worried, Kimberly went to pick him up.

In the downpour, she saw him unconscious, being dragged into a van. Terrified, she chased after them until they reached an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts.

They'd drugged him deliberately and planned to break his legs.

She burst in, desperately begging them to spare him. But they grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the bushes.

She fought and pleaded, but they slapped her hard. "Make another sound, and we'll snap his legs. He'll be crippled for life!"

Eyes wide, she glanced at the unconscious Richard and went limp, like a marionette. Tears streamed down her face as the thugs crowed excitedly.

"This woman is an idiot, sacrificing herself for that guy. Bet he won't want her after we wreck her."

"We're desperados. If you go to the cops, we'll finish him off."

After they left, Kimberly suppressed her hysteria and got Richard home. When he woke, clueless, he grilled her about her swollen eyes and disheveled hair.

Afraid he'd do something reckless, she lied about running into a mugger. She never told him the truth, fearing lifelong guilt would consume him.

She didn't report it, terrified the thugs would harm him. Later, when nude photos of her arrived, he went ballistic, demanding answers.

She only said she'd been assaulted by thugs that rainy night. He was devastated, vowing to protect her forever.

In bed, he was patient, but nightmares constantly dragged her back to that trauma. Still, to avoid disappointing him, she forced herself to respond.

Now, it seemed he'd always viewed her as damaged goods. Her sacrifice felt like a tragic joke.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Lotta: [What do you think if I ask him for a wedding? Will he agree?]