Ex-husband, Get out!

Perhaps he had forgotten why I had been so persistent in wanting a child.

Back when Logan was just starting his business and funds were tight, I endured sleeping in the basement with him and surviving on cold steamed bread for a month. Once, in his haste, he left some documents at home, and in my rush to deliver them, I stumbled and fell on the way.

That was when I lost our first child.

I had lost it before I even knew it was there.

My earliest memories were of the orphanage, where I was ostracized and targeted. Only the matron showed me genuine kindness, but she had too many children to care for. I didn't dare to compete or stand out. In many crucial moments in my life, I faced alone. That was why, as I grew older, I yearned more than anyone for a happy, complete family.

After that accident, the doctor said because of my miscarriage and malnutrition, my body was damaged. Getting pregnant became even more challenging. Over the years, I took countless medications and saw numerous doctors, all to finally have my own child.

Now, that child had become Logan's bargaining chip.

"Logan, I don't need it anymore."

Looking at me, Logan had a hint of mockery on his face upon hearing my words.

"Don't need it? Fay, stop pretending."

In Logan's eyes, I was good at pretending.

To support Logan, I had willingly given up coveted dance troupe invitations and plunged into endless commercial performances. From being a singer's backup dancer to performing at mall openings, I took on every opportunity, regardless of the conditions.

Sometimes, the stages were shabby, wet, and slippery, leaving me bruised all over after each show. Once, I even tore a ligament severely, but I never dared to mention a word of it to Logan, fearing he'd feel guilty.

Even if Logan accidentally discovered my injuries, I always played it off, telling him they were just makeup scars to give him a scare.

He always believed it, never truly caring whether I was actually hurt.

During those dark, hopeless times when there seemed no way out, he just needed a living being by his side.

Logan didn't care who the living being was. Whether it was a cat, a dog, or me, it made no difference to him.

He knew what I desired most and exactly how to manipulate me.

But I truly didn't need it anymore. I already had my child, and I would give my baby a warm, happy home.

As I was about to speak, Rebecca opened the door and walked out.

"Are you Fay Tautou? I'm Rebecca. I heard you're going to try the medicine for me. Thank you."

Rebecca reached out her hand for a handshake, but I averted my eyes, offering no response.

Logan, frowning, looked at me, his words laced with reprimand.

"Fay, do you have any manners?"

"I have OCD."

I mocked Logan with a sneer.

"Let it go, Logan. After all, the side effects of the drug are unknown. The doctor even said it might cause dizziness, vomiting, or even severe bleeding. If Fay doesn't want to try it, let it be. Don't pressure her."

Rebecca, feeling uneasy, tugged at Logan's shirt, clearly not wanting all the attention on me.

"Fay, can't you be reasonable? Rebecca is a patient. Can't you accommodate her?"

Logan's frown was a familiar expression, so I knew he was angry.

Normally, if he frowned, regardless of whose fault it was, I would be the first to apologize.

But now, I just wanted to leave before George arrived with his men.

Seeing me ready to leave, Logan immediately blocked my path.

"Fay, try the medicine for Rebecca, or else, don't ever think about getting anything!"

He was brimming with confidence, certain that I would agree.

Before I could respond, George had already arrived at the hospital with a few bodyguards.

"Mr. Brooks, the medicine is here."