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.