The anesthesia had long worn off, and the pain from my wound left me shivering, a bitter taste rising in my mouth, as if I had swallowed a gallon of tears.

“Zoe, I really messed up.”

The chair by my bed creaked as someone sat down. That voice—Hudson Grant’s—was unmistakable. Over the past five years, I had memorized his every expression, every breath. I could read his mood from the smallest gesture.

But now, all I felt was disappointment. I didn’t even want to glance at him.

Hudson spoke softly, just like he always did. “I’m sorry, Zoe. Whitney just got back today, and she said she has no family in the city and wasn’t feeling well. That’s why I stayed with her.”

He held my hand, his eyes full of regret. But I didn’t care. Could his apology make my daughter healthy again?

“Get out.” I pulled my hand away, my voice icy. His eyes reddened. Before, I would’ve been heartbroken, rushing to comfort him in his arms.

He hurried to sit on the bed, trying to pull me close. But just then, a voice came from the doorway, shaky with tears: “It’s all my fault. I’ll leave right now. I won’t let your marriage fall apart because of me!”

As soon as she spoke, Hudson let go of me and ran after Whitney Taylor.

“Whitney, your body is too fragile for this. We need to see a doctor right away,” he urged, full of concern.

As he helped Whitney toward the doctor’s office, she glanced back at me, her eyes brimming with triumph and malice.

She might as well have said, “I won.”

I looked right back at her.

Fighting over a man like Hudson Grant—honestly, I couldn’t tell who was more pathetic, her or me.

Seeing my distress, my sister stepped forward and closed the door. “First time I’ve seen someone so eager to become a mistress!”

I forced a smile to reassure her. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset.”

Actually, I should have known all along: in this world, there’s no such thing as a reformed bad boy; the moment his first love lifts a finger, he’ll come running back like a loyal puppy.

It’s a harsh lesson, but at least I’m learning it now. It’s never too late to walk away.

When my parents heard I’d had a daughter, they were so thrilled they couldn’t sit still, booking the first flight back home to see me. But no amount of joy could hide the worry in their eyes.

“As long as you and the baby are okay, we’ll always be your support,” my mom said, her eyes red from crying.

I nodded, fighting back tears. From the start, my parents never approved of my relationship with Hudson Grant. They thought he was too unpredictable, not the right match for me.

The painkillers finally kicked in, giving me enough strength to ask the nurse to wheel me outside the nursery to see my baby. I never expected to run into Hudson Grant there.

“Zoe…” His gaze was intense, but I kept my distance. I’d already decided to divorce him; I had no interest in any further interactions.

“Please, CEO Grant, just sign the divorce papers. We’ll split the assets according to the agreement. I won’t take more than my share.” Before I could finish, Hudson grabbed my wrist.

“Now that we have a baby, can’t you just stop stirring up drama?”

Stirring up drama? Where was him when I needed? Between me and his first love Whitney Taylor, he always chose her. Even with our child, the scales never tipped in my favor.

Seeing the look on his face like I was just throwing a tantrum, I couldn’t hold back anymore. “When I needed an ambulance to get to the hospital, your flashy car entourage blocked the road. When they needed your signature, you said not to bother you. And now you think you have the right to talk to me about our child?”

His face showed a flicker of shame. “It’s true that I neglected you and the baby, but I…”

But his excuses meant nothing now.

The thought of being in the same space as him made me sick. Before he could say another word, I turned and walked away.