Aurora Stout stood there with the fresh pregnancy report in her hand, gently rubbing her lower belly, her face glowing with happiness. "Baby, Daddy will be here to pick us up in a few minutes. Let’s head downstairs and wait for him first."

Today was her first wedding anniversary with Damian Whitfield. And who would’ve thought—life had dropped a huge surprise on her.

She was six weeks pregnant.

As Aurora walked, she pulled out her phone and called her husband, Damian Whitfield.

Beep... beep... beep...

After what felt like forever, the call finally connected. "Hello? Damian, I’m done with the checkup. When are you coming to get me?"

"Go back by yourself. I’m busy."

His voice came through the phone, low and cool. Maybe she was overthinking it, but there seemed to be a trace of impatience in it.

"Damian, I have good news to tell you..."

"Aurora!"

Aurora, who had been turning to walk back, suddenly heard Damian shout her name. The sharpness in his voice scared her so much she stopped dead in her tracks. "Damian? What happened?"

No answer came from the other end.

All she heard was the disconnected call tone.

Aurora’s face instantly went pale with worry. She hurriedly called back, only to hear the cold automated message by her ear. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is powered off."

Her heart jumped straight into her throat. Her mind was completely on Damian, so she didn’t notice someone charging toward her from up ahead.

Bang!

Aurora was slammed hard to the ground. A fierce, tearing pain shot up from her lower abdomen.

Her face turned ghostly white. Trembling in despair, she clutched her belly with one hand and grabbed tightly onto the man who had knocked her over with the other. Her whole face twisted in pain as she forced the words out, "Take me to the hospital..."

...

By the time Aurora was lifted down from the ambulance, she was already half-conscious from the pain.

In her daze, she thought she heard Damian’s voice.

She struggled to open her eyes and looked toward the sound.

Through her blurred vision, she really did see Damian—his face tight with anxiety.

The strength she’d been forcing herself to hold onto shattered in an instant. Tears rolled down in big drops as she weakly called out, "Damian..."

But the man she called didn’t run toward her.

Instead, he rushed to open the passenger door and carefully carried a woman out from inside.

Aurora recognized her at once.

It was Stella Pembroke, the friend of his who had just returned from abroad.

As the ambulance passed by Damian, his usually cold and handsome face was now full of panic and helplessness. Over and over, he kept calling, "Xixi."

So "Xixi"... wasn’t Aurora.

It was "Xixi"—Stella.

In that instant, Aurora felt like she’d fallen into an ice pit. Her heart hurt so badly it felt carved apart. She shut her eyes in agony, the last bit of strength drained from her body, and blacked out.

...

When she woke again, Aurora found herself in a hospital room.

A hospital?

"My baby!"

Her pupils trembled. Panic exploded across her face as she immediately reached for her stomach.

"Don’t worry. The baby is fine."

The man sitting guard by her bed looked at her pale lips and frightened expression. He reached out to soothe her, gently rubbing the top of her head before sliding his hand under the blanket to hold hers.

Cold.

No warmth at all.

Damian’s brows shifted slightly. "Why are your hands so cold?"

Before he could do anything else, Aurora had already yanked her hand back. The scene before she fainted flashed through her mind again, and her nose stung with sour grief.

Damian glanced at her unusual reaction, and something in his eyes quietly cooled.

Normally, if her hands were this cold, she would’ve already shoved them into his chest and acted spoiled, making him warm them for her.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?" His long, well-defined fingers reached toward her forehead.

Aurora looked at Damian.

His gentleness right now was like a blade. Every word stabbed straight into her heart, and the pain made her eyes redden instantly.

When she was little, her father’s constant suspicion had driven her mother past her breaking point. Her mother had abandoned young Aurora and really run away with another man.

Then her father fell into gambling, drank heavily, and became violent.

That was why, through the four years she’d been with Damian, she had loved him with all her heart. Trusted him completely.

But what she got in return was his cold-blooded betrayal.

He had been lying to her the whole time.

The grievance and heartache crashed over her together. Aurora used all her strength to slap away the hand that was about to touch her face and said emotionally, "Get away. Don’t touch me."

Don’t touch her with those dirty hands that had held Stella Pembroke.

Damian’s hand froze in midair, then after a brief silence, he withdrew it. He lowered his gaze to her, looking at her like she was a child throwing a pointless tantrum.

"Aurora, stop it."

His voice was still gentle, but the warmth in his tone had faded a lot.

Aurora bit down hard on her bloodless lips. Tears swirled in her eyes, but she forced them not to fall.

Fake.

His tenderness, his pampering—it was all fake.

For the past four years, in his eyes, she had just been a fool.

What a joke.

Aurora’s heart hurt so badly that when she spoke again, only a broken murmur remained. "Don’t touch me... don’t touch me..."

Her body instinctively shrank back, trying to get farther away from him. She didn’t realize she had already edged to the side of the bed and was about to fall off.

Damian’s expression tightened. He reacted fast, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back with force. Beneath his calm eyes, there was already a layer of frost.

"Aurora Stout, even throwing a fit should have a limit."

Damian was the kind of man who had total control over his emotions. Usually calm, restrained, unreadable—almost never visibly shaken.

But every time he used that flat, nearly cold tone to call her by her full name, Aurora knew one thing for sure.

He was angry.

She had always known where the line was. The moment she noticed his expression turn off, she would immediately throw herself into his arms and act cute until he softened.

Most of the time, Damian didn’t really argue with her. At most, he’d pinch her cheek as punishment.

But this time, Aurora didn’t back down like she usually did. Instead, she bit her lip stubbornly and stared straight at him.

"Why are you yelling at me?!"

A woman in a white coat, probably in her forties, walked into the room.

Her voice was even louder than Damian’s. Completely ignoring the chilling pressure coming off him, she scolded him without holding back. "If you’ve got that much attitude, go use it outside. What kind of man takes it out on his own wife?"

The doctor clearly had a terrible impression of him.

His pregnant wife had been in the ER fighting for her life, and nobody could even reach him, her husband. He hadn’t returned the call until the middle of the night. Seriously, where did he get the nerve to come here and lose his temper?

Damian’s face darkened.

If it had been anyone else talking to him like this, they would’ve paid for it already.

But the woman in front of him was Aurora’s attending doctor. Damian frowned and forced himself to hold it in. "Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing to me? If you want to apologize, apologize to your wife."

Seeing that Damian’s attitude was still barely acceptable, the doctor lowered her voice a little, though her tone remained sharp.

She looked away from him and stepped forward to examine Aurora.

Aurora stared at the doctor nervously. The moment the examination ended, she asked right away, "Doctor... how is my baby?"