During the eight months I was pregnant, Dominick and his secretary booked hotel rooms nearly two hundred times. Despite knowing the precious child growing inside me, I chose to ignore the situation entirely. However, the night before my due date, I inadvertently overheard Dominick whispering on the phone to his secretary in the stairwell:

"Relax. We used your eggs through IVF, so the baby won't inherit Bridget's health issues. Once the baby arrives safely, I'll think about divorcing her. Just give me a little more time, alright?"

After enduring this marriage for seven years, this revelation tore open old wounds, cutting deeper into the scars on my heart. Exhausted from years of arguing, I called my father directly:

"I've repaid the debt to Dominick's family. Now it's time for you to fulfill your promise."

---

"Bridget, you're about to become a mother. If there's a problem with Dominick, talk it out. You’re both adults; why joke about such serious things?" My father dismissed my words as mere venting, believing I was just frustrated with Dominick.

"Okay, after the baby’s born, I'll definitely have a talk with Dominick. Tomorrow’s your due date, so don't let trivial things affect your health," he said with a chuckle, ready to end the call.

"Dominick cheated on me. He doesn't deserve to be my husband or the baby's father," I stated calmly. Moments later, my body started trembling uncontrollably. Despite the room’s warmth, a chill seemed to penetrate deep into my bones, piercing through to my core.

"Stop it. As your father, I know Dominick’s character. You’ve been overly suspicious since you got pregnant. The marriage, although arranged by me, was something you agreed to. I never forced you."

Listening to my father, I couldn't help but smile bitterly at my own naivety—to have believed Dominick’s promises of everlasting love.

Fifteen years ago, my father was rushed to the hospital due to his congenital heart condition. It was Dominick's father who tirelessly saved his life, even covering the large bill when we couldn’t afford the surgery. This kind-hearted doctor later died in a tragic car accident, leaving behind an eleven-year-old Dominick. To repay Mr. Hunter's kindness, my father adopted Dominick, treating him as his own son.

For over a decade, Dominick and I were inseparable. When my father built Hunter Enterprises from scratch, he even promised to leave the entire business to Dominick. I had no objections; after all, when Dominick was eighteen, he declared he would marry me once he graduated college. Naturally, my father was thrilled to agree, yet he promised me one thing: if Dominick ever wronged me, I could seek a divorce. I pretended to accept this lightly, quietly hoping such a promise would never need fulfilling.

Until the second year of our marriage, when I discovered Dominick’s first affair. He returned from a business trip with lipstick on his collar. We argued fiercely, but Dominick explained it away as carelessness, claiming he accidentally got the marks while helping a drunken female colleague home. Dominick was never careless nor indiscreet, yet this weak excuse failed to convince me. Dominick spent the entire night kneeling outside our bedroom. By morning, he was at my feet, red-eyed and tearful, begging for my forgiveness in a hoarse voice.

"Bridget, my heart will always belong to you alone. If I ever betray you, may I never find happiness!"

I somehow convinced myself to let it go, unaware this decision was the start of all future misfortune...

A sharp pain in my abdomen snapped me back to reality. Glancing down, I saw the sheets soaked with a mixture of blood and amniotic fluid spreading across the bed.

The intense contractions had me teetering on the edge of consciousness, writhing in pain. Just before I was wheeled into the delivery room, the nurse quietly asked the now hurriedly arriving Dominick:

"Mr. Lopez, would you like to be in the delivery room for the birth?"

"It can be a very painful process, and having you there might help ease her mind."

My eyes burned with tears, almost forcing them shut. Through the haze, I could only make out the slight downturn of Dominick's lips.

"I think I'll stay out. I... I tend to faint at the sight of blood. It's not really my thing."

He quickly let go of my hand, wiping the blood from his fingertips on the sheets with a look of distaste. He stepped back several paces, terrified of encountering more blood.

Besides his fear of blood, Dominick also had severe OCD. Consequently, we rarely shared any intimate moments over the years as a couple. I never tried to force him to change.

When I was six weeks pregnant, noticing the chill in the air, I took a coat to his office. There, I stumbled upon Dominick in a compromising position with his secretary, Anne Simpson.

Through the blinds, I saw him accept a chocolate from Anne's lips, his expression relaxed and amused. He even teasingly remarked:

"Anne, the chocolate tastes sweeter when you feed it to me. Maybe next time I should try some other treats?"

I was completely stunned, holding my breath, as the coat slipped from my grasp to the floor.

For someone who had only been with the company for a few months, he showed such indulgence to Anne Simpson. All these years, for Dominick's sake, even simple gestures like holding hands required preemptive sterilization.

It's laughable how selective his OCD truly was. Watching Dominick's figure grow indistinct, I said nothing further, simply shutting my eyes and letting the tears stream down my cheeks.

In the delivery room, over the course of more than ten hours, I fainted multiple times from exhaustion, only to be forcefully awakened by the doctors. The searing pain continued relentlessly, numbing my senses.

In my mind, Dominick's words from his proposal echoed:

"Bridget, you've always looked out for me. Let me be there for you now, okay?"

"I'll give you the happiness you've always wanted. I'll... be your happiness."

This man, who promised to stand by me no matter what, now waited outside the operating room.

Isn’t it ironic how all of this stems from his actions?

I woke again, unaware of how many times it had happened, to the sound of a baby's cry marking the end of my long ordeal. With a sigh of relief, I finally gave into total exhaustion and drifted into sleep, barely acknowledging the newborn.

The arrival of this new life brought me no joy. Like Dominick Lopez, he symbolized a future I intended to leave behind. Besides freedom, there was nothing else I desired.