Walking Away While Pregnant: Dear Ex-Husband, I Don't Love You Anymore novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

"Daddy... I’m scared it’ll hurt. I don’t want the shot... sob..."

The little boy tilted his chin up as he spoke, looking at the man. His delicate, beautiful face was fully revealed.

Elise’s breath caught.

Her eyes locked onto the child’s face. He looked almost exactly like Dylan. And he was calling him Daddy.

Did that mean... Dylan had been unfaithful?

The color drained from Elise’s face.

It felt as though someone had carved a piece straight out of her heart. The pain was so sharp it made her whole body tremble uncontrollably.

Dylan crouched slightly, his voice soft with rare patience as he coaxed the child, "Be good, Robin. The shot will help you get better. Daddy’s here with you—we’ll be brave together, okay?"

"Then if I get the shot like a good boy... can Daddy stay with me tonight?" the child asked, his voice still thick with tears. "Mommy said tomorrow is my fifth birthday. I want to open my eyes and see Daddy first thing!"

The man’s long fingers gently stroked the boy’s head. "Alright. Daddy promises."

"Thank you, Daddy! You’re the best! I love you the most!"

A faint smile curved his lips. "I love you too."

The child’s innocent, tender voice... the man’s patient reassurance... Every word felt like a blade, cutting Elise apart piece by piece.

Five years old. The boy was already five.

An invisible hand seemed to clutch her heart and twist violently. Her stomach churned.

Covering her mouth, Elise turned away in a panic and retched into a nearby trash can.

The sound caught the boy’s attention.

He turned his head toward the corner and pointed at her. "Daddy, there’s an auntie over there. She looks sick too... she seems really uncomfortable."

Dylan frowned slightly. Hearing the retching, an inexplicable unease stirred within him.

Holding the boy, he stood, about to step forward—

"Dylan!"

He paused and turned toward the voice.

At that instant, Elise froze mid-motion.

She would recognize that voice anywhere.

A woman in a tailored suit hurried over. She reached out and touched the child’s flushed cheek, her expression full of concern. "What did the doctor say?"

"There’s inflammation—it’s causing the recurring fever," Dylan replied, his voice low. "He needs an IV. Let’s go pay first, then take him for the injection."

"Okay." The woman nodded, her gaze soft with worry as she looked at the boy. "Robin, I’m sorry Mommy came so late."

The boy shook his head. "Daddy said Mommy is busy with work. I know Mommy works hard. I’m not mad."

"Our Robin is so thoughtful," she said, stroking his head. Then she looked at Dylan. "Let me carry him?"

"It’s fine. He’s pretty heavy..."

The man held the child in his arms, the woman walking beside him.

A family of three, moving farther and farther away.

At the corner, Elise clung to the wall just to stay upright. Her face was as pale as paper, tears blurring her vision.

Until today, she had never imagined that Dylan—aloof and untouchable as he seemed—would betray her.

Just as she had never imagined that Quinn Foster would betray her either.

One was the man she had loved with her whole heart. The other was a girl she had once pulled out of the mountains of debt—someone she had personally supported through college, who had called her sister with unwavering devotion.

...

By the time Elise came back to her senses, her car had already stopped beneath the shade of trees outside a villa.

Through the window, she watched as Dylan’s Maybach drove through the gates.

The embossed bronze doors slid shut slowly, sealing off her view completely.

Her hands trembled uncontrollably on the steering wheel. She stared at those closed gates, her breathing growing faster and more erratic in the suffocating silence of the car.

"—Ugh..."

She shoved the door open and stumbled out, one hand clamped over her mouth. Gripping the trunk of a nearby tree, she retched violently.

It took a long while before the spasms in her stomach finally subsided.

Unsteady, she forced herself upright, wiping away the tears that soaked her face. Still leaning against the tree, she slowly turned back.

Her gaze swept over the villa before her—so familiar even in its architectural style—that the pain in her chest had dulled into something almost numb.

In the heart of North City, where even a single property was impossibly rare, the luxury residential district was divided into zones.

Her marital home with Dylan—Starsea Residence—was in Zone A.

This villa—Orchard Residence—stood in Zone B.

The two homes were separated by nothing more than a thousand-meter stretch of internal road.

So this was where he had built another life behind her back.

A home. A child.

With Quinn.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify