Bianca Lewis had just graduated from a top-notch finance program at a university near Skyler Jackson's company. She had the vibrant energy and dreamy naivety typical of young women, along with a practicality that I respected. She had plenty of time to be by Skyler's side during my pregnancy. However, she lacked the perspective and grace that often come from growing up in a privileged environment.

I took the initiative to arrange our meeting. When Bianca first saw me, she was wearing an extravagant Victorian-style dress, a stark contrast to her usual attire. The fabric looked freshly purchased, an obvious sign that she had gotten it specifically for this occasion. Aside from the dress, her appearance was straightforward, reflecting the effort she had put into this encounter.

I sat across from her, noticing the slight tremor in her demeanor throughout our conversation. I took off my wedding ring and placed it on the table between us. I asked if she was aware that Skyler had a family. Her face turned ghostly pale, and after a long pause, she shook her head and claimed she didn't know.

I chuckled softly, choosing not to call out her lie. Before my pregnancy, I often visited Skyler's office after completing my design projects. Everyone there was aware of how Skyler, so authoritative in the business realm, would kneel to help me put on my shoes. Even if Bianca was new to the company, it seemed unlikely she was oblivious to my presence.

Rather than disgrace her, I chose to speak about things unrelated to Skyler and me. I shared stories about my success during my studies in the Netherlands and the business deals I had clinched through my own efforts. I told her that my accomplishments would never allow me to become the woman who destroys a family.

After our conversation, I picked up my bag and got into the car Skyler had arrived in to pick me up. Oblivious to what had transpired, he gently ran his fingers through my hair and asked, “Did you catch up with an old friend?”

Out of Skyler's view, I saved the audio recording of my chat with Bianca. “I was trying to help someone find the right path.”

Skyler stayed focused on the road and muttered, “My Caroline is truly kind.”

I looked at Skyler’s somewhat unfamiliar features. But Skyler, with me, there will be no chance for you to amend your ways. Once I'm fully prepared to make my exit, there will be no room for you in my world.

Due to the plan I was hiding deep within, I chose not to confront Skyler Jackson.

I forced a smile and shifted the blame onto our driver, John:

"I must have been mistaken. It must be the antiseptic smell from John. He mentioned his uncle was undergoing treatment at the hospital recently."

John's grip tightened around the steering wheel.

I pretended not to notice the anxious looks exchanged between him and Skyler in the rearview mirror. John quickly responded, "Yes, I've been going to the hospital after work to visit him."

"Madam, if it's bothersome, I'll make sure to change my clothes next time."

I laughed it off and turned to joke with Skyler:

"Being pregnant is making me imagine things."

But Skyler wasn’t amused. He pulled me close with a desperate urgency, holding me so tightly it felt like he wanted us to meld into one:

"Caroline, please don't leave me."

"We promised to hold each other's hand and grow old together."

I rested my chin on his shoulder and whispered softly.

But Skyler, you were the one who broke that promise first.

I received an invitation from a prestigious art school nestled in the Alps; one of my jewelry designs was going to be featured at their upcoming exhibition. When Skyler Jackson found out, his immediate reaction was to urge me, despite my pregnancy, not to take the trip.

I met his gaze, my eyes growing colder. "Being a designer has always been my dream. Are you really trying to use our child as an excuse to hold back my career?"

Skyler appeared shocked, then quickly knelt beside me. "I'm sorry, Caroline. I'm just concerned about your health. I never intended to hold you back," he said sincerely, his voice full of genuine concern.

His worry for me was real, and so was his desire not to be an obstacle. But the fact that his first instinct was to stop me—that was real, too.

Perhaps the boy who once loved me so deeply had gradually faded away without even realizing it.