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.

When Whitney's eyes fluttered open again, Colton was there by her hospital bed, his eyes red with fear.

He clutched her hand, his voice a shaky whisper.

"Whitney, I had no idea about the avalanche... I'm so sorry, so very sorry..."

His fingers were icy, yet his palm was slick with sweat, as if he were afraid she would slip away.

"Yell at me, hit me, do whatever you need to do..."

Suddenly, the door to the room burst open with a loud bang, and Janice stumbled in, her eyes puffy and red.

"Mrs. Jones, this is all my fault. Please don't be mad at Mr. Jones..."

Her tears flowed freely, painting her as the picture of misery.

"Mr. Jones was out of his mind with worry for you. When he heard about the avalanche, he didn't think twice before running into danger to find you, and now he's all bruised and battered..."

"Stop!"

Colton cut her off, spinning around to pull her into a comforting hug. "This isn't your fault, and the doctor said tears are bad for the baby."

Whitney watched them, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.

The irony was not lost on her. She had just dodged a bullet, cheated death, and there he was, fussing over another woman's tears.

Whitney rasped, "Leave. I want everyone out."

Colton froze, "Whitney..."

"Out, I said!"

Her hand shot out, seizing the water glass from the bedside table and hurling it to the floor where it shattered, shards flying.

Finally, Colton retreated with Janice, glancing back at Whitney repeatedly before the door closed behind them.

In the days that followed, Colton tried everything to win her back.

He sent flowers flown in from who knows where and designer bags. He constantly checked in with her, but she stayed quiet.

She was not mad anymore, nor did she offer him a smile. She looked at him as if he were a stranger.

On discharge day, Colton showed up to take her home.

Dragging her suitcase, Whitney beelined for a cab.

Colton had been waiting since dawn at the hospital doors.

She had no intention of riding with him and turned to walk away.

That was when he pulled a whip from the trunk and held it out to her.

"Whitney, go ahead. Hit me."

She froze.

His voice was rough. "If it'll make you feel better, if it means you can forgive me… Hit me all you want."

He paused, then softened his demeanor. "We've got a family dinner tonight. Let's not fight, okay?"

She looked at him, the urge to laugh rising again.

Did he really think they were still the same? That he could mess up, she would get mad, he would sweet-talk her, and all would be forgiven?

He was so wrong.

She did not take the whip. Instead, she turned around and climbed into his car.

She had not forgiven him. She simply did not care anymore.

All along the ride, Colton kept the conversation going nonstop. He chatted about everything from the latest office gossip to funny childhood memories, even teasing about the time Whitney took a tumble into a fountain on their first date.

In the past, she would have turned beet red and playfully shushed him. However, she just gazed out the window, wordless.

The old Jones mansion was all lit up.

The moment Whitney walked into the living room, she spotted Janice cozy on the couch, chatting with Colton's grandmother, Tessa Scott, who was holding her hand with warmth.

Colton quickly took Whitney's hand. "Grandma really wanted to see her. I was worried you'd be upset, so that's why I kept it to myself..."

Whitney pulled her hand away softly. "It's fine."

She really did not mind anymore.

Tessa, still holding Janice's hand, beamed with affection, but her smile faded to a frosty expression when she turned to Whitney.

"After all this time married and not a single child! Janice, on the other hand, is such a delight. Janice, make sure you visit me more often..."

Whitney's hand froze for a second. There was a time when Tessa had doted on her just as much. When did things start to change?

It was probably the moment she admitted she did not want kids.

However, the decision to remain childless was not hers alone.

She could still recall the stormy night after he proposed; her anxiety about marriage had her hiding out at her best friend's place, avoiding Colton. He had scoured the city for her in the pouring rain, finally breaking into her friend's house at three in the morning, kneeling before her, soaking wet.

"Whitney, what did I do wrong?"

She was a mess of tears. "I'm scared... I'm scared it'll hurt... I'm scared of getting married, and I'm terrified of having kids..."

What had Colton said back then? He cradled her face, promising her with every word.

"Then, we won't have kids. If our folks give us grief, I'll just say I'm the one who can't."

However, the man who had once vowed he would never father a child was gently mixing prenatal formula for Janice.