"Whitney! You're awake at last!"

When she opened her eyes the next day, Colton was there, lying next to her.

He touched her forehead, his eyes filled with worry. "Why didn't you call me when you got a fever? Do you have any idea how freaked out I was to find you passed out?"

'Would calling you have made a difference? You were busy with Janice and your kid, weren't you?' she thought bitterly.

"I'm fine now," she said, her voice raspy as she brushed his hand aside.

Colton's brow creased with concern. "You're not happy?"

"It's nothing."

"I know when you're not happy," he said, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on her hair.

"Remember how you've always wanted to go horseback riding at the ranch? Let's go, okay?"

He spoke with a tenderness that harkened back to better days, and began to assist her in getting ready with a soft touch she could not resist.

Just as she was dressed and about to head out, Janice peeked in shyly. "Mr. Jones, Mrs. Jones, are you off to ride horses? I'm so jealous. I've never been. Can I come along?"

She caressed her swollen belly, her eyes filled with hope as she looked at Colton.

"No, you're pregnant," Colton said firmly, his brows knitting together.

Janice's lip quivered. "I really want to... It's not good for the baby to be cooped up all the time..."

Her voice trailed off, laced with a subtle plea.

Whitney could not bear to hear any more and turned to leave.

She knew Colton all too well. He was a sucker for that kind of doe-eyed begging.

Sure enough, as she stepped outside, she heard Colton give in with a resigned sigh. "Fine, but you have to do exactly as I say."

Once in the car, Whitney saw that Janice had indeed tagged along. Colton was ever the gentleman, helping her in and keeping a protective hand on her back as if she were made of glass.

However, once they arrived, his attentiveness was all for Janice, as he seemed to forget who he was there to comfort.

"Watch the steps.

"The sun's strong, so wear your hat.

"Take it easy, don't overdo it."

Each word of caution was a cut to Whitney's heart, each one sharper than the last.

Whitney slipped away to the stables, her hands deftly saddling a calm mare.

Colton had taught her those skills himself, on a day she would never forget. On her twentieth birthday, they galloped across his private racetrack from dawn until dusk.

However, the man who had once shown her the reins was preoccupied, lavishing attention on another.

He was full of care and concern for Janice, adjusting her gear with a tenderness that made Whitney's heart ache. He clung to Janice's reins as if they were a lifeline, not once loosening his grip, until his phone buzzed.

A frown creased his forehead as he checked the screen.

"Mr. Jones, don't let me keep you," Janice said sweetly, releasing him from his duty.

"I've got the hang of it now. I can manage on my own."

Colton hesitated, double-checking Janice's position before he stepped away to take the call.

Whitney watched him from the sidelines, the sun casting a long shadow behind Colton as he tapped his phone in that familiar, absent-minded way she knew so well.

"Mrs. Jones," Janice called out, her voice dripping with honey as she rode up close.

"Ever wonder what happens when two horses crash into each other? I've always been curious."

Without waiting for an answer, Janice spurred her horse hard. In a flash, the horses collided, the mare rearing up in panic. Whitney's grip on the reins was iron, but it was no match for the frenzy that took hold of her steed, who bolted towards the fence, screaming.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Janice's grip 'slip', and she tumbled from her mount.

"Janice!"

Colton's voice tore through the air as he lunged to catch her, just in time.

Meanwhile, a thundering herd, spooked and wild, broke free, charging straight for Whitney.

"Colton... Save me!" she cried out.

Whitney's cry was lost in the tumult of galloping horses.

She caught a glimpse of him cradling the limp form of Janice, bolting for the edge of the arena without a backward glance.

A cloud of dust kicked up by the stampede stung her eyes. The reins slipped through Whitney's fingers, and as she was catapulted into the air, a memory flashed before her: Colton's words at that very racetrack when she was 20 years old.

"Whitney, just call out to me, and I'll always turn back."

The ground rushed up to meet her, and the world went dark.

Through the haze of pain, the last thing she saw was Colton's retreating figure, rushing Janice to the car with desperate haste.

The agony in her ribs was sharp, but it paled next to the shredding pain in her chest.

Curled up on the ground, the drumming of hooves drawing near, Whitney let her eyelids fall.

Whitney awoke to a stabbing pain.

Blinking open her eyes, she found herself in a hospital room. A slight turn of her head revealed Colton at her bedside, dark shadows under his eyes.

"Whitney, you're awake," he said, leaning forward, his voice heavy with relief.

"Are you hurting anywhere?"

Her throat was parched, and she could not speak.

The last thing she remembered seeing was Colton's back as he carried Janice away and the thunderous approach of the horses.

"Janice got hurt," Colton blurted out, urgency lacing his words.

"She's got a bleeding disorder, and the hospital's out of blood..."

Whitney's heart sank.

Colton gripped her hand. "You're the only match. Whitney, can you give some blood to her?"

The request was utterly ludicrous.

Whitney jerked her hand back, the sudden movement aggravating the wound in her side and making her wince sharply.

He had just stood by as she was knocked down, offering no explanation, and then, he expected her to go to Janice's aid, battered and bruised.

"I won't do it," she rasped, each word slicing through her like a blade.

Colton's brow was creased with worry. "Just hang in there for the baby's sake, okay? Once the baby's here, it'll all be over."

An icy shiver ran down Whitney's spine. She looked into Colton's eyes, hoping to find a flicker of remorse or tenderness, but those eyes she had adored for two decades held nothing but a frantic push.

"Mr. Jones, Ms. Moore isn't doing well..." the nurse whispered from the doorway.

Colton shot up and nearly dragged Whitney to her feet. "Please, Whitney. I'm begging you."

Whitney was escorted to the phlebotomy room. As the needle slid into her vein, the pain was so intense it took her breath away.

The nurse was puzzled. "Is it really that painful? I was as gentle as I could be."

Whitney just shook her head, her tears falling freely. She used to dread needles, and Colton would always be there to cover her eyes and soothe her gently.

"Hang in there, Whitney, it'll be over in no time," he used to say.

However, Colton stood outside as her blood was drawn, impatiently checking his watch, not even sparing her a glance.

With 400ml of blood gone, Whitney's world began to spin. The nurse had her sit and rest, but Whitney's gaze followed Colton as he hurried back to Janice's room without a backward glance. She followed unsteadily and paused at the half-open door.

Janice lay on the bed, her complexion ghostly, her wrist swathed in thick bandages. Colton was at her side, holding her hand with a tenderness that seemed to overflow from his eyes.

"Don't worry, it's all over now," he soothed in a low voice. "The kid's doing great too."

Whitney's eyes landed on Janice's wrist, and then she froze.

There it was, the silver cross bracelet she knew too well.

She had picked it out herself three years ago in an old church, while she prayed for him.

Colton had put it on with such care, vowing, "I'll never take this off, not in my lifetime."

However, that same bracelet was clasped around another woman's wrist.

He had given away the bracelet she had bought as a symbol of their blessed future to Janice.

A sharp pain stabbed through Whitney's heart, and she could not stand to look any longer. She spun around and stormed out.

Back in her hospital room, she curled up on the bed, her tears drenching the pillow. She discovered the hard truth that a shattered heart could physically ache, making it hard to even breathe.

The nurse came by for her rounds.

"Mrs. Jones, could you finish up your medical history report?" the nurse asked, handing her the form.

Whitney filled it out on autopilot, her pen hesitating just a moment at 'marital status' before she pressed down hard and wrote 'single'.

"Mrs. Jones, is there a mistake here?" the nurse questioned, puzzled.

"You've put down 'single' when you're married to Mr. Jones, aren't you?"

"I'm not," Whitney replied, her voice steady.

"He won't be my husband much longer."

"Whitney, what did you say?"

The door to the room burst open, and there stood Colton, disbelief etched across his face.

The room went still, charged with tension. The nurse, clutching the medical record, made a quick exit, leaving Whitney and Colton staring at each other, a silent standoff at the doorway.

"Still upset about the blood test?"

Colton seemed to catch on to something as he moved closer, reaching out to caress her cheek. "Life and death, Whitney. I had no other choice."

Whitney dodged his hand, leaving it hanging awkwardly in the air.

Colton pulled back and softened his voice. "Once things settle down, how about we escape to the mountains for a little getaway?"

She closed her eyes, too tired to reply.

He waited, but silence hung between them.

"So, when do you get out of here?" he prodded.

A twinge of suspicion nudged her, and she opened her eyes to look at him. "What's going on?"

He paused, then admitted, "Janice is craving your cream of mushroom soup... She swears by your recipe."

Shock rooted her to the spot, a whirlwind of emotions, anger, pain, and the ridiculousness of it all, threatening to spill over. She wanted to scream at him, demanding to know if she was nothing more than Janice's personal chef in his eyes.

However, all she managed was a whisper. "Got it. I'll make it and send it over once I'm out."

His face brightened, and he leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. "You're always so understanding, Whitney."

She felt nothing as his lips touched her skin, her thoughts bitter.

Yes, she was the understanding one, was she not? Understanding enough to cook for his mistress while nursing a broken rib.

"All I want is for her baby to be born healthy," she whispered.

Colton's brow creased with concern. "You used to be so against that kid, remember?"

A hollow smile crossed her lips. "Not anymore."

Deep down, Whitney hoped that their twisted family would remain intact, all three of them.

He studied her face, searching for something, but eventually, he just glanced at his watch and stood up. "Janice needs her meds. I'll check on you later."

The door clicked shut, and she eased back onto the hospital bed, eyes drifting up to the ceiling. A chuckle escaped her lips.

Colton had vanished for five whole days.

Back home from the hospital, Whitney kept her word and simmered a pot of mushroom soup, asking the driver to take it to the hospital.

Next, she started packing her passport, ID, and a few favorite outfits.

Their photo together still sat by the bed. She stared at it for a moment before flipping it facedown on the table.

On the sixth night, Colton reappeared out of the blue, Janice conspicuously absent.

"Janice didn't come back with you?" Whitney blurted out.

"She's still in the hospital," Colton replied, his gaze piercing.

Whitney frowned. "She's not out yet after all this time?"

He gave a noncommittal grunt, then stepped closer. "It's better she's not here, Whitney. Remember that snow mountain getaway I promised? It's all set. Time to go."

Before she could even reply, Colton was yanking her by the wrist, pulling her out the door.

His grip was firm, sending her off-balance, a flicker of unease in her gut.

Colton's face was unreadable, his eyes icy as frost.

The car ride was eerily silent.

Colton's hands were clenched on the wheel, knuckles bone-white.

Outside the window, the world blurred by, Whitney's heart pounding in her chest.

They reached the snow mountain resort at dusk.

As they were about to head up to the summit, Colton stopped. "Whitney, I forgot something in the car. Wait here."

She nodded, shivering as the wind screamed around her, huddling in her coat for what turned into three long hours.

Darkness swallowed the sky, and she finally got through to Colton's phone. "When are you coming back?" she asked, her voice quivering against the howling storm.

However, the line was dead silent. After what felt like an eternity, Colton's voice came through, icy as the winter chill: "I'm not coming back. The car's gone. If you want to return, you're on your own."

"What are you saying?"

"It's your punishment," he said, his voice a frost she had never felt before.

"I told you to hold on until the baby was born, but you went and put abortion pills in Janice's soup, nearly causing her to lose the baby. Whitney, how did you turn into this?"

His words, steeped in a bone-chilling disappointment, made Whitney's blood turn to ice.

Abortion pills? A near miscarriage?

"I didn't do it!"

Colton erupted, "You're still lying?! You made that soup, didn't you? Who else could it be? Janice? She treasures that baby more than her own life!"

The storm was picking up, ice forming on Whitney's lashes. "So you don't believe me..."

His voice was calm but heavy. "How could I? Make your way back and think about what you've done."

The call ended, and Whitney was left alone in the snow, her fingers clutching the phone numb and purple.

Colton's words haunted her, sharp as a blade, making her whole body throb with pain.

She flashed back to the day they registered their marriage, when he had cornered her against the wall of the city hall with an arm, his voice clear.

"Whitney, if you ever try to leave me, I'll keep you by my side forever."

However, he had cast her out into the snowy wilderness.

As the blizzard intensified, she pulled her coat close and started descending the mountain, only to be stopped by a muffled rumble from afar.

The dial tone and the howling wind merged into one.

It was an avalanche.

She spun around to flee, but the snow swallowed her whole, and as she was buried, a sharp pain shot through her right leg.

Her hands shaking, Whitney pulled out her phone and desperately tried Colton's number over and over.

On the seventh attempt, it finally rang through.

"Colton! There's an avalanche! I…"

However, she only heard Janice's overly sweet voice. "Hello? You're breaking up. What's that again?"

Through the roar of the blizzard, Whitney could just make out Colton's soft voice asking, "Who is it?"

"Wrong number," Janice giggled.

"Mr. Jones, this meal is amazing. Since that scary incident with the food poisoning, your cooking makes me feel so much safer."

A slab of snow slammed into Whitney's back, and she could not bear it any longer, slowly falling into the snowy ground.

As she was losing consciousness, she had a fleeting vision of their wedding day of Colton on one knee, vowing, "Whitney, if I ever fail you in this life, may I..."

The snow came down, burying all the vows left unsaid.