Bruce never came back.

Sometime past midnight, a sharp pain tore through Suri's stomach.

She snapped on the bedside lamp, tried to move—but her body wouldn't listen.

"Bruce!" Her voice cracked. "Bruce, my stomach—!

"Someone help! Please! I don't feel right!"

She screamed until her throat burned, but the house stayed dead quiet.

Hands shaking, she fumbled for her phone and dialed Bruce.

A voice answered—but it wasn't his.

"Hello? Suri, what is it?" Julie.

"Sorry, Bruce spent the whole night reading to me and the baby," Julie said, fake sweet. "He was so wiped, he passed out. If you need something, just tell me."

"Tell Bruce my stomach really hurts... ask him to come back..."

"Your stomach hurts?" Julie let out a sharp laugh. "Come on, you can't even have kids. What's there to hurt? And even if I wake him, you think he'd actually care?"

Before Suri could say anything, Julie shouted, "Bruce, wake up! Suri says her stomach hurts. She wants you to go over."

A pause. Then Bruce's groggy voice: "What is it?"

"Bruce—"

Julie cut in, all pout. "Ugh, I was finally asleep. My stomach wasn't even hurting that bad, but she just HAD to call and wake me. Now it's acting up again."

"Your stomach hurts again? Don't worry, I'm staying with you. I'm not going anywhere." Then Bruce snapped into the phone, "Suri, seriously? You can't even get pregnant—what stomach pain? Go to the bathroom or something. Quit calling!"

Click.

No matter how loud she screamed, no one came.

The pain slammed into her harder, draining every bit of color from her face.

Sweat drenched her forehead. Her lower belly kept tightening like it was trying to fold her in half.

Then—warmth. A sudden rush beneath her.

And just like that, panic took over.

'It hurts so bad.'

She glanced down—blood soaking the floor beneath her. Her face went paper white.

Was she... pregnant?

"Help!"

Barely hanging on, she dragged herself to the door. "Somebody... please..."

Bruce finally stepped out, holding up Julie.

"What are you yelling about?" he started—then saw the blood. His face dropped. "Suri? What's going on?"

He moved toward her, but Julie gagged dramatically. "Ew, what is that smell? Suri, if you're on your period, use a pad or something. There's blood EVERYWHERE. You seriously smell infected."

Suri shook her head, voice barely there. "No... Bruce, my stomach... I think I might be—"

Julie cut in, full venom. "Oh, I get it. You're jealous I'm pregnant, so you're pulling this stunt to mess with me. But this? It's just pathetic. Bruce is only gonna hate you more."

Bruce froze—then stepped back.

He looked down at her like she was something stuck to his shoe. "Are you done? Pregnant women need sleep. Go back to your room. Keep this up and you're moving out tonight."

The door slammed. Cold air rushed past her.

"Bruce Jerkinson... don't you DARE regret this..."

She stared at his heartless back, the world tilting—then everything went black.

When Suri came to, she was in a hospital bed.

Alone.

Outside, nurses rushed by, chatting.

"Did you hear? Bruce Jerkinson's wife is about to give birth."

"For real? I thought she couldn't have kids. Wasn't she always doing IVF and stuff?"

"No clue, but yeah—she's in labor. Early, too. Bruce is losing it."

"He must really love her. Married her even though she couldn't get pregnant, and now look—baby's finally here."

Suri shut her eyes, the words slicing through her.

Julie's giving birth? Already?

Eight months. That was too soon.

Her phone buzzed.

She answered—and Bruce's voice exploded through the speaker. "Suri, where ARE you? I don't care—get to the hospital, now.

"Julie's in early labor because of your drama. If anything happens to that baby, I'll NEVER forgive you!

"You've got ten minutes. Come apologize to Julie. If you don't—we're DONE. DIVORCE."

Click.

The line went dead.

She stared at the screen as it faded, too numb to speak.

Then a doctor walked in, clipboard in hand. "Mrs. Jerkinson, how are you feeling? If your housekeeper hadn't brought you in... you wouldn't have made it."

"Dr. Thompson... what happened to me? Why was I bleeding? Don't tell me I was—"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jerkinson. We tried everything, but we couldn't save the baby. Your IVF last month actually worked—but you came in too late. If you'd gotten here sooner, maybe..."

"What?" Her voice cracked. Pain flooded her eyes. "My baby... is gone?"

"Yes. And with how difficult it was for you to conceive... I'm truly sorry. You should call your husband. Recovery's going to take time. He should be here."

Her phone buzzed again.

Bruce.

[Why aren't you here yet?]

[Do you really want a divorce before you'll show up?]

[I'm so disappointed in you. If something happens to Julie's baby, I never want to see you again.]

Suri pressed her cracked lips together, hands shaking as she stared at the messages.

Swallowing her grief, she made one call. "Raine... can you come get me from the hospital? I need your help."

By the time Raine Dudley, Suri's best friend, arrived to take her away, Bruce was still pacing outside the OR, frantically calling and texting her. She hadn't replied once.

Eventually, she just turned off her phone.

Furious, he was about to lose it when Dr. Thompson walked by, brow raised. "Mr. Jerkinson? What are you doing here? Mrs. Jerkinson's baby—"

The OR doors swung open. Another doctor stepped out, cutting him off. "Mr. Jerkinson."

Bruce rushed forward. "How is it? My baby?"

"Both mother and child are doing well. You can relax."

"Really? Boy or girl?"

"A boy. Your family finally has an heir. Mrs. Jerkinson's been moved to recovery. You can see her now."

Bruce didn't wait—he spun around and bolted down the hall.

Dr. Thompson watched him go, frowning. "Mrs. Jerkinson gave birth to a boy? That can't be... she miscarried. What's going on? Are there two Mrs. Jerkinsons?"

Bruce stopped cold. He turned, face tightening. "What miscarriage? Who miscarried?"