A brief silence descended upon the car. Then, Morgan looked at me oddly. "Aren't you going to ask me anything?"

Oh, I used to love asking him these things. The slightest thing out of the ordinary would put me on the edge of my seat. Things were different now, though. I was already prepared for a divorce. What was there to ask?

All I asked was, "How long will it take to get to the hospital?"

"Soon enough," he forced through gritted teeth. Seemingly trying to upset me, he put the pedal to the metal. I gripped the edges of my seat tightly, telling myself we would arrive soon.

However, Morgan's phone rang when we were at the final traffic light before arriving at the hospital. He glanced at me oddly before answering it through the car's Bluetooth. When the call connected, I heard Iris weep and say she'd fallen while cleaning the house. She couldn't get up.

He evidently didn't think she was being pretentious after falling. He turned the car around when the light turned green. This pissed me off.

I tapped on the window and said, "I want to get off here."

His expression turned ugly. "You're the most unsympathetic person I've ever met, Willow."

He ignored me and drove to Iris' apartment.

I'd broken out in a cold sweat from the pain by now, and my back was drenched. I curled up by the side of the road and called for an ambulance. Just as it arrived, Morgan came down with Iris in his arms. "Don't be scared, okay? The hospital's right in front."

She looked innocent and harmless as she curled up in his arms. Her eyes focused on the ambulance, and she said, "It really hurts. Can I get in the ambulance, too? I really need to lie down…"

Ambulances couldn't fit two patients at once. It was like how one man couldn't have two wives. Morgan knew that, so he turned to me and said, "There's nothing wrong with you, Willow. Let the ambulance take Iris first."

Just then, a nurse approached us. "We can only allow one patient in and one more person to accompany her."

Her gaze traveled between us uncertainly. "Who called the ambulance?"

"I did." I held up my hand and turned to look at Morgan. "Sorry about this—I can give up my husband, but not the ambulance."

I'd said that to mock Morgan and Iris, but he only paid attention to the second half of my sentence. He glared at me before turning to the nurse. "Shouldn't the ambulance take the patient who requires more attention?"

It was too bad she didn't want to have anything to do with him after realizing what a scumbag he was. She helped me into the ambulance and shut the door. "Whoever calls for the ambulance will get to use it. Unlike a certain someone, we don't get sidetracked by other people and things."

I couldn't help finding her rather amusing. I lay on the stretcher before losing consciousness.

…

When I woke up again, I saw my regular doctor looking at me sympathetically. "You've lost the child."

He looked even sadder than I felt. I supposed it made sense—he knew how much I'd suffered for this child and all the injections I'd gotten. It was also he who'd congratulated me that morning. "Congratulations! You've finally gotten pregnant."

It had only been less than 12 hours since then…

I nodded silently, feeling the tears stream down my face. It was good, really. This way, there would no longer be anything between Morgan and me.

The doctor advised, "You should ask your family to come and care for you."

I considered it, then decided to hire a caregiver. After that, I drifted in and out of sleep until my phone woke me up. It was 1:00 am, and I had countless unanswered calls.

I sighed and answered this one.

Morgan said, "Iris' ankle is swollen, so it's inconvenient for her to move around. I'm staying to care for her."

I didn't respond to Morgan's words. After a while, he asked, "Why didn't you call me when I didn't go home?"

In the past, he was always cooped up in the lab because he needed something to show to get promoted. I would always call him at 10:00 pm to urge him to return out of concern for his health.

He would impatiently tell me off each time and say that I was interrupting him. I'd finally stopped asking now, but he wasn't used to it.

I shut my eyes stoically. I was sleepy. "I'm hanging up."

Just then, the doctor on the night shift came to check on me. He lowered his voice and asked, "Are you okay sleeping in my territory?"

He was half-teasing and half-serious.

I looked up at him. His face was familiar, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen him. I forgot to hang up amidst my daze, so Morgan heard him.

He snapped, "Where are you, Willow? Where the heck are you?"

He was so noisy. I hung up and blocked his number.

The doctor checked my temperature. "You have a low fever."

He adjusted the room's temperature before looking at me hesitantly.

I glanced at his badge—his name was Damien Carr. I genuinely couldn't remember him, though.

Before leaving, he said, "Get some rest."

I couldn't for the life of me remember where I'd seen him, so I stopped thinking about it.

…

After three days in the hospital, my best friend, Vivian Stone, called me. "Where are you? I can't believe you manned up enough to run away from home!"

She sounded excited and elated for what I did. In the past, I would turn her and my other friends down whenever they invited me on trips because I was worried Morgan wouldn't eat well. He had gastric issues, and eating takeout always made him feel horrible. Later, I'd barely left the house because I wanted to focus on conceiving.

At the time, my friends had complained about me always choosing Morgan over them. I knew I was at fault, so I would always gloss over the subject.

Now, I listened as Vivian said, "You know what? Your husband has called all of us, asking where you are. It's like he's gone mad."

I couldn't gloss things over anymore—Morgan, who was supposedly searching for me like a madman, was at the hospital with Iris for a checkup.

Perhaps a woman's sixth sense was really sharper than anything else—she suddenly turned to meet my gaze. Then, she linked arms with Morgan and smiled at me. There was a hint of smugness in it.

I smiled back at her and turned to handle my discharge procedures. What was there to be smug about when she was picking up someone's leftovers?

Since Morgan probably wouldn't be home so soon, I hurried home to pack my things and leave. To my surprise, I ran into him just as I was leaving the house.

He looked steely. "You've just returned. Where are you going now?"

He'd gotten mad at me more than once throughout our five-year marriage. He'd gotten angry when I'd accidentally ruined the shirt Isabel had gotten him while doing the laundry. He'd also been enraged after I'd hung up on Iris when she'd called him in the middle of the night.

This time, he was more furious than he'd ever been.

I looked at him in confusion. My gaze trailed to his arm, which was still in Iris'. Then, I looked at his hand, suddenly finding the wedding band on his ring finger a bother.

Mine was in my pocket, so I got it out and put it onto Iris' finger without hesitation. "Since you like someone else's husband so much, I'm sure you'll love this secondhand ring. I hope you two will stay together forever."

I was genuinely wishing them well. I'd even prepared a divorce agreement so they could officially get together. After that, I pushed Morgan away and left, dragging my suitcase with me.

However, he ran after me and hastily explained, "It's not like what you think, Willow. She's Isabel's sister… I've only been caring for her like I would my sister."