Don’t Touch Her!

Mia was about to say she had things to do and was leaving right away, when Timothy stepped out of the master bedroom.

He hurried downstairs, his face awkward. “When did you get back, Mia?”

“Just now,” Mia said coldly.

The unease on Timothy's face deepened, but his voice remained steady as ever. “Why didn’t you come upstairs? Did you… hear something?”

Mia hadn’t expected him to ask so directly.

For a split second, a thought flashed through her mind—confront him.

But she crushed it immediately.

It was meaningless.

Now that she knew Timothy had never loved her, not even a little, all accusations felt ridiculous and hollow.

Timothy would never apologize to her.

If he found out she was pregnant, he would even force her to abort the child.

Mia instinctively squeezed her clutch tighter. All she wanted now was to hide her pregnancy.

“I didn’t hear anything.” She forced a small smile. “I just… wanted to ask what you’d like for dinner. I’ll go grocery shopping.”

She just wanted to leave.

Like hell she’d cook for them.

She just wanted to find a hotel and stay away for a few days.

Timothy wouldn’t care where she went anyway.

Timothy gestured for her to come in. “Fiona already bought the groceries. Actually… Maya said she wanted your cooking, so I had Fiona prepare everything in advance. Makes it easier on you.”

Mia froze.

Was he expecting her to thank him for his thoughtfulness?

“Fiona also bought your favorite caviar,” Timothy added.

Mia’s lips twitched. She didn’t see anything to be grateful for.

But since she’d managed to hide the pregnancy, there was no point arguing with him. It was just one meal. After dinner, she could go back to her room, which would save the money she needed for a hotel.

Mia agreed coldly. “I’ll start cooking soon.”

Timothy’s gaze grew complicated. He seemed about to say something, but Mia didn't want to hear it.

“Fiona, send Maya’s requested menu to my phone. I’ll start cooking after I change,” Mia said as she walked upstairs.

Better to make something she enjoyed than waste time on a man who wasn’t worth it.

No matter what Maya wanted, Mia believed she could handle it. Cooking a meal was far easier than dealing with a man like Timothy.

Mia changed into loungewear, went to the kitchen, put on her cartoon apron, and started cooking exactly as Maya had asked.

She finished five dishes in less than two hours.

Maya walked downstairs, looking at Mia like she was a servant. “Are you going to sit and eat with us?”

Before Mia could reply, Timothy pulled out a chair for her. “You’ve worked hard. Sit and rest. Leave the rest to Fiona.”

A flash of displeasure crossed Maya’s face, but she said nothing and sat down across from Mia.

“Tim, sit here, please? I want to peel shrimp for you.” Maya patted the seat beside her, wanting to stay close to him.

Mia saw right through her and couldn’t care less. She took the seat Timothy offered, picked up her utensils, and focused on her meal.

Timothy seemed distracted. For once, he ignored Maya’s invitation and settled into the head of the table, positioning himself between them.

“Let’s eat,” Timothy said.

Mia ignored him, focusing on cutting her steak.

Maya, however, was anything but quiet. The elegant socialite dissolved into a clinging, helpless mess around Timothy—couldn’t cut her own steak, needed him to pick her favorite vegetables from the salad.

She kept bringing up their past, determined to create a private little world just for the two of them.

Mia was disgusted. She wouldn’t have said a word to Timothy or interrupted them—even without all these acts.

She had already decided to divorce. Why waste any more time on a man she no longer wanted?

She finished her last bite of steak and stood to leave. “I’m done, enjoy your—”

A piercing scream cut her off. Maya clutched her stomach, face contorted in agony, glaring at Mia. "What did you put in the salad? Mia, I’m only staying here temporarily. Why would you try to kill me?!”

Maya’s expression twisted with what looked like genuine pain, her face draining of color. Cold sweat streamed down her forehead.

Mia froze. She had no idea how this had happened. “Fiona bought all the ingredients. I just cooked them. How could anything be wrong?”

Mia stepped forward to check, but Maya shrieked at her approach. “Ah! Stay away from me! Get lost!”

Mia was completely confused. She reached out to help Maya, explaining, “I just want to know what’s wrong—”

“Don’t touch her!”

Before Mia could finish, Timothy’s rough hand shoved her hard.

Caught off guard, Mia fell backward, one hand instinctively flying to her belly, the other grasping desperately for anything to break her fall.

But Timothy’s strength was overwhelming. Mia hit the floor hard. Her forehead hit the corner of the table, and she let out a muffled cry of pain.

Timothy didn’t notice her at all. His full attention was on Maya.

Mia watched helplessly as he he scooped Maya into his arms, rushing for the door.

When Maya rested her chin pitifully on Timothy’s shoulder, she glanced at Mia from an angle Timothy couldn’t see and raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow in provocation.

In that instant, Mia understood. She had been set up.

Maya had planned to frame her at dinner.

But there was no time to defend herself. Sharp pain exploded in Mia’s lower abdomen, and blood ran down from her forehead.

She clutched her stomach, begging Timothy not to leave.

“It… it hurts… Timothy, help me.” Mia struggled to stand. Even if he wouldn’t stop for her, she could at least beg for a ride to the hospital.

But Timothy didn’t look back. His voice was laced with disgust. “Stop pretending. Maya is in serious condition.”

Holding Maya, he frowned and kicked open the door, as if even one second’s delay would cost her life.

The pleading look in Mia’s eyes faded away. She watched her husband carry another woman and leave without hesitation.

He never looked back at her.

Before leaving, he even took Fiona with him, leaving Mia alone on the cold floor.

The pain in her abdomen intensified. There was no time for heartbreak. Her breath grew shallow. She had to save her child before she passed out.

Summoning her last strength, Mia crawled toward the table and grabbed her phone. Before collapsing to the floor again, she dialed for emergency help.

Goodbye, Timothy

When Mia woke up, only a young nurse was by her bed.

Her forehead throbbed and her vision was blurry, but she ignored it all and asked at once, “How’s my baby?”

The young nurse, Hannah, gently took her hand and comforted her softly. “Don’t worry, miss. Your baby is safe.” She explained carefully, “You called us right after you were hurt. That quick action made all the difference. If the ambulance had come ten minutes later, the poor little one might not have made it. You just need to stay in the hospital for a while—you lost a lot of blood.”

Mia felt the warmth in her hand, and her racing heart eased a little.

Only a little, not completely.

Even though Hannah tried to reassure her, Mia could tell that although her baby’s life was saved, its health might still be affected. Now that her own body was weak enough to need hospital care, how could her child have escaped all harm?

Mia’s heart ached terribly—not for herself, but for her baby.

Under the covers, her hand pressed to her stomach, and tears fell silently.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Mommy should have protected you,” Mia apologized silently to her child, and promised, “From today on, I swear no one will ever hurt you again.”

Hannah couldn’t help but feel for Mia, seeing her in such pain. She whispered, “Where’s the father? Maybe you can give me his number, and I’ll call him for you.”

Mia could barely lift her hand, let alone make a phone call.

But she shook her head without hesitation. Her voice was weak but absolute. “My baby... doesn’t have a father. He’s dead.”

The moment Timothy had chosen to pick up Maya and leave her behind, he had died in her heart.

She thought to herself bitterly, “Timothy, from now on, there is nothing between us anymore.”

Hannah looked at Mia apologetically, but given her condition, she suggested that Mia ask a friend to come stay with her.

Mia asked her to call Gina. Then she used her last bit of energy to settle the medical bills and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

When she woke up again, Gina was already sitting beside her bed.

Mia didn’t explain anything, and Gina understood her pain without asking.

Mia stayed in the hospital for five days.

During that period, Timothy did not call her once, nor send a single text. It was as if she had never existed in his world at all.

Well, that was how it should have been.

Mia looked at the photos Maya had sent her—every one showing Timothy taking gentle care of Maya.

He fed her beef soup. Knowing she cared about her figure and disliked meat, he patiently picked out every tiny piece of beef.

His handsome profile bathed in sunlight, so tender, so attentive, but none of that had ever belonged to Mia.

Another provocative text came from Maya. “Tim says you’re wicked. He won’t let you cook for me anymore. He’ll make whatever I want himself.”

Mia stared at the gloating words on the screen. At first, they seemed almost funny. But as she laughed, tears streamed down her face.

Right. She was the villain, the one who had wrecked Timothy and Maya’s perfect love.

She should never have been part of their world. What was there left to hold onto?

Her love for him had always been one-sided. From the very beginning.

Mia dried her last tear, put away her phone, and prepared to leave the hospital.

It felt almost ordinary—like any quiet afternoon on any ordinary day.

She mused bitterly, "It’s truly over between us, Timothy. You love her, so I’ll let you go. And I’ll find my way back to who I used to be—the confident, proud girl I once was, before all this.”

Mia completed her discharge, then returned home to pick up her already packed luggage.

She left the divorce agreement on the dresser in that tiny guest room. Then she picked up her suitcase and walked out without looking back.

Goodbye, Timothy.

Goodbye, her foolish past.