I was in so much pain that I passed out. When I came to, I found myself lying in the back of a car.

“I couldn’t get an ambulance today for some reason,” the assistant said nervously beside me. “Zoe, don’t panic. You and the baby are what matters right now.”

The pain was so sharp it made my vision blur. When I felt something wet underneath me, I thought I’d lost control. The family doctor quickly took off his coat and put it under me.

“Her water’s broken. Please, drive faster!”

“Where’s Hudson Grant?” I asked, my mind slipping away. I’d told him the due date was close, and he promised to stay home with me.

He agreed, moving his work home and reading to the baby every day.

What could be more important than our baby?

The assistant, looking pale, quickly shoved his phone behind him when he saw me looking. “CEO Grant went to a company meeting.”

Another wave of pain hit, and I clung to the seat cushion, gasping. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, and something felt off.

“When did he leave?”

“Ms. Lancaster, please don’t put me in a difficult position. I really can’t say.”

The assistant, her hands shaking, offered me some water. Seeing her struggle, I knew she was lying.

Hudson Grant would never just disappear like this. There had to be something else going on.

Before I was wheeled into the operating room, I heard the assistant on the phone:

“You wanted the Maserati convoy to make a heart shape for Whitney Taylor. I’ve warned you that blocking traffic could be risky. Now Mrs. Lancaster’s in early labor, and we can’t get an ambulance. Both she and the baby are in danger. We need to do an emergency C-section, so you need to come and sign the papers…”

Hudson Grant’s voice was icy and aloof, like a cold shiver running through me.

He said, “Tell Zoe Lancaster’s family to come for the birth. I’m with Whitney. Don’t disturb me unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Now that Whitney Taylor's back, I guess it doesn’t matter if me and the baby live or die, right?”

I lay on the hospital bed, whispering to myself, my eyes completely empty.

“You’ve got to be strong, for your baby,” the doctor said, injecting the painkillers. I thought Hudson Grant had rushed over to sign the consent forms, making sure the surgery could start quickly.

But no, it was my sister, fresh off a plane, who signed everything remotely over a video call with her assistant. Even though I knew the man who claimed to love me was probably in bed with another woman right now, I couldn’t let my mind wander there.

Nothing else mattered but the baby I was about to bring into this world.

The surgical lights blazed above me, sharp and blinding. The doctor mentioned it would take nearly two hours to finish the procedure.

I forced back tears, trying not to think about Hudson Grant. But in moments like this, fear crept in. All I could feel was bitterness, knowing that even after all this time, Hudson would still drop everything for Whitney Taylor.

Everyone said he’d turned over a new leaf, that once we got together, he cut off all the other women. Before we got married, he told me he didn’t want our marriage to hold back his career, and I agreed, becoming his hidden wife.

Years ago, I had some injuries that made me prone to miscarriages. He stayed with me through it all, soothing every hurt, and that’s why I put myself through countless rounds of IVF, just to give him a healthy baby.

When I told him I was pregnant, Hudson Grant’s eyes welled up with tears of joy.

He took me to his parents’ graves, pressing my hand to his chest. “Zoe, marrying you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you for giving me a complete family.”

That night, he set off fireworks for hours, just to celebrate us becoming a family of three.

I really thought I’d married for love. The way he looked at me, so full of affection, nearly drowned me.

But if he never really got over Whitney Taylor, why did he have to pull me into all of this?