After My Future Husband’s Video, I Took $100 Million and Vanished Chapter 03

After My Future Husband’s Video, I Took $100 Million and Vanished Chapter 03

My fingers froze over the keyboard.

I needed Julian to explain what he meant by our child.

Five agonizing minutes crawled by before a flood of messages finally appeared.

[You’re five weeks pregnant. You don’t know it yet. On the fifteenth of next month, you’ll start miscarrying. You’ll be in so much pain you’ll be curled up on the floor, and you’ll call me.]

[But Vivian will send me a picture of her slashed wrist. She’ll tell me she’s pregnant with my baby too and threaten to kill herself. I’ll hang up on you and rush to her. When I get there, I’ll realize she barely scratched herself. It was all an act.]

[By the time I make it to the hospital, you’ll already be hemorrhaging. Our baby will be gone. You’ll be alone on the operating table, coughing up blood… while I’m sitting with Vivian, eating cake. Our baby was a little girl. The ultrasound already showed her tiny hands and tiny feet.]

The air caught in my throat.

I couldn’t breathe in.

I couldn’t breathe out.

Almost instinctively, my trembling hand drifted to my stomach.

A violent cramp twisted through me.

I shoved my chair back and sprinted to the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet as dry heaves tore through my body.

Nothing came up.

In the end, all I managed to spit out was bitter bile that left a metallic taste coating my tongue.

I turned on the faucet and splashed icy water across my face.

Again.

Again.

Again.

When I finally looked up, the woman staring back from the mirror barely looked alive.

Blood vessels streaked across my reddened eyes, and every trace of color had drained from my lips.

I grabbed my car keys and rushed out.

Ignoring every speed limit, I drove straight to the city’s most prestigious private hospital.

Blood work.

Lab tests.

An ultrasound.

When the doctor handed me the results, my fingers shook so badly I almost dropped the folder.

The obstetrician smiled warmly, the practiced smile of someone delivering happy news every day.

“Congratulations, Ms. Rhodes. You’re five weeks pregnant, and the embryo is developing perfectly.”

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.

“Schedule the procedure,” I heard myself say, my voice so hoarse it hardly sounded like my own. “I’m terminating the pregnancy.”

The doctor blinked, her pen stopping mid-sentence.

“Would you like to discuss this with your husband first?”

“No.”

I closed my eyes.

“Schedule it immediately.”

A tear landed on the lab report, slowly spreading into the paper.

At five that afternoon, the procedure was over.

Ignoring the dull ache deep inside my abdomen, I returned to the apartment one last time.

The rose petals from our anniversary celebration still littered the hardwood floor.

Their edges had already browned and curled.

Julian’s cologne lingered faintly in the air, barely noticeable now.

I’d lived like this for six years.

I’d believed I was happy.

I’d believed that happiness would last forever.

Eleanor moved even faster than I’d expected.

One hundred million dollars appeared in my offshore account before sunset.

I stared at the endless string of zeros for a long time.

Then I laughed bitterly.

Everything I’d sacrificed.

Everything I’d fought to protect.

It had all been one enormous joke.

Maybe love wasn’t everything.

Maybe having a hundred million dollars wasn’t such a terrible consolation prize.

I picked up my phone and texted Julian from five years in the future.

[The baby you never wanted is gone now. Are you finally satisfied?]

For a long time, nothing happened.

Then my phone rang.

It was a voice call.

I answered.

Future Julian’s voice was thick with restrained sobs.

“Chloe… whether I wanted that baby or not, I only hope that for the rest of your life… there’s no daughter… and there’s no me.”

The pain in his voice made my chest tighten.

I blurted out the question before I could stop myself.

“Julian… was our ending even worse than what you’ve already told me?”

Silence.

When he finally spoke again, every word sounded like it was being dragged through broken glass.

“Please don’t ask anymore, Chloe.”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do.”

My voice cracked.

“I have to know.”

The silence stretched unbearably.

Finally, Julian whispered, his voice trembling.

“Chloe…”

“In the end…”

“You died.”

“You died right in front of me.”