Chapter 5

After getting my wound bandaged, I ran into Julian and Freya in the hospital corridor. They'd just finished her checkup.

Freya was clinging to Julian's arm, still wearing that feigned look of frailty. When she spotted the gauze on my forehead, a flash of satisfaction crossed her eyes and the corner of her lips twitched upward—but she quickly suppressed it.

Julian's gaze lingered on my face for a second. His brow furrowed, his lips parted as if to speak.

But before he could say anything, Freya suddenly let go of his arm and hurried toward me.

The next second, she dropped to her knees before me with a thud.

"Moira!" She looked up at me, eyes brimming with tears, voice trembling. "I know you don't approve of Julian and me having this baby, but I really have no other choice! The doctors say I don't have much time left. This child is the only reason I have to keep living!"

Tears rolled down her cheeks in big, glistening drops—the picture of pitiful vulnerability. Nurses and patients passing by stopped in their tracks, casting sympathetic glances our way.

"As soon as the baby is born, I'll leave Julian. I'll never interfere with your lives again." She lifted her tear-filled eyes to mine. "Please, I'm begging you—have some pity on me..."

I looked down at her.

Her knees pressed against the cold tile floor, yet somehow I was the one being cast as the heartless woman who couldn't tolerate a dying soul. What a performance. She played it perfectly.

Julian rushed over and helped Freya to her feet, his face full of tender concern. "Your health is so fragile—how could you kneel on the floor like that?"

He turned to me, his tone laced with warning. "Moira, I expect you to treat Freya and her child with kindness. Don't worry—none of this will affect our wedding."

A month ago, hearing those words might have sent me into a rage. Might have shattered my heart. Might have made me question what I'd done wrong to make Julian willingly have a child with another woman.

But now, I only found it absurd. A wedding that would never happen—what did any of this have to do with me anymore?

I glanced at them both, my voice soft. "Understood." Then I turned and walked away.

Freya clearly hadn't expected me to be so calm. She froze for a moment, then hurried after me.

"Moira, wait!"

I didn't stop.

"Moira!" Her voice turned shrill, and she grabbed my wrist.

I stopped and turned to look at her.

Julian was still far behind us. Seeing that no one was around, Freya's tear-streaked face still glistening, the pitiful expression vanished in an instant—replaced by naked provocation.

"Moira," she leaned in close, her voice dropping low, "how does it feel to watch your fiancé have a baby with another woman? Enjoying yourself?"

I looked at her coldly, shook off her hand, and turned to leave.

But the moment I pulled away, Freya's body lurched backward dramatically, stumbling toward the stairwell. Her movements were exaggerated yet precise, as if she were about to tumble down the steps at any second.

I stood where I was. I didn't move.

Because I could see clearly—her footing was perfectly steady, and she'd calculated exactly how far back she could go while staying safe.

"What are you doing!"

Julian rushed over and pulled Freya into his arms, then whipped around to glare at me, his eyes blazing with fury.

Freya immediately transformed back into her fragile self, clutching her stomach, eyes reddening, voice quivering. "Julian, I just wanted to thank Moira for being so understanding, but she..."

"Moira!" Julian cut her off, his face ashen. "I never thought you'd stoop to something like this! Now—right now—apologize to Freya!"

I watched him take Freya's side without a moment's hesitation. Without even asking a single question.

Five years. Five whole years. And I couldn't earn one second of his trust.

"Apologize?" I laughed. "Why should I?"

Julian's expression darkened. "What did you just say?"

"Julian," I said, my voice perfectly flat, "do you know something? I've never been more grateful than I am right now—grateful that I didn't marry you."

I turned and walked away without looking back.

Behind me, Julian's furious shouts echoed down the corridor. I didn't hear a word.

Back at the apartment, I finished packing the last of my things as quickly as possible. I took out a sticky note, wrote a few final words, and left it on the coffee table.

Then I pulled out my phone, opened an encrypted app, and sent all the files I'd prepared.

Freya thought her lies were airtight. She had no idea I'd had someone dig up everything about her long ago—the forged cancer diagnosis, the kidnapping she'd staged herself, and the real father of that child.

This was my parting gift to her.

Once everything was sent, I deleted all the records, removed the SIM card, and tossed the phone in the trash.

From this day forward, the name Moira would vanish completely from Julian's world.