There was a long silence before Vincent finally spoke.

"You can barely handle one child. How could you manage another? I just want Hector to grow up right."

I stared at him for what felt like an eternity, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Got you," I said, voice dripping with sarcasm, as I turned and headed to the bathroom to throw up again.

When I came back out, Vincent was already on the phone, speaking in hurried whispers.

He rushed to the door, but I stepped in front of him. Without hesitation, he shoved me aside.

His eyes flashed with anger. "Her life is at stake, and you're still jealous? That girl drank herself sick trying to secure a deal. Not everyone can stay home and get paid for doing nothing."

I walked to the hall and pulled out a business card from the drawer.

"You've been drinking. Don't risk driving drunk. Here's the number for a car service. Call them."

Hector reached out for the card but didn't say a word. His hesitation hung in the air, thick with tension.

Ignoring him, I went to the medical kit and took out some stomach medicine.

"Your assistant's been having headaches one day and stomachaches the next. You should take her to a doctor."

Vincent didn't respond as he stormed out the door.

I watched his figure disappear into the night, my thoughts drifting back to when we first started the business together.

My academic background wasn't impressive, but I had a gift for jewelry design. Even now, the company's best-selling line was my creation.

But when I got pregnant, Vincent and his mother convinced me to step back.

Later, I passed the exam and was accepted by a college. However, Vincent blamed me for being selfish and neglecting our family.

Back then, Hector had just started speaking, His cuteness was too hard to resist, so I chose not to go.

I loved this child—loved him with everything I had.

And now he was clawing at my hands, hurling insults, telling me he hated me.

Vincent never came back that night after rushing off to take care of Layla.

Hector had tried to call him countless times, but there was no answer. Eventually, Hector turned on me, blaming me for it all.

"I want Dad! I want Ms. Jensen! I don't want to be with you, you're horrible! Give me back my dad! Give him back!"

He punched me in the stomach repeatedly, but I held back my tears and brought him to the office.

The new receptionist didn't recognize me but immediately knew who Hector was.

We rode the elevator up, and as soon as the doors opened, there she was—Layla—sitting in Vincent's lap. She gasped when she saw us, burying her face in his chest.

"Andrea, it's not what you think!" she said, her voice small, trying to sound innocent.

Vincent reacted quickly, set her down, and shielded her behind him.

"Andrea, this isn't what it looks like."

I cut him off, my voice cold. "Please. You two spend every day together. If something were going on, it wouldn't have waited this long."

Vincent's expression darkened. "Andrea, don't be so bitter. There's nothing between us. I've done nothing wrong."

I nodded, my lips curling into a bitter smile. "Of course. You're both innocent."

Then I pushed Hector toward them.

"Hector's been trying to reach you. You can take him to your mother's place. I've got things to do."

I walked out without looking back. Vincent didn't follow me.

In the stairwell, I leaned against the wall, tilting my head back to force the tears away.

I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Dr. Davis? I'd like to schedule an abortion."