8 At this time in my last life, I was still locked in a bitter war with Julian. My mind was on the verge of collapse consumed by paranoia over him and Lana. I never would have noticed the changes in my own body. This time, in just a few short days, the divorce was set in stone. His health had deteriorated ahead of sched ule, landing him in the hospital. I hadn't stayed by his side; I had walked away. So, Lana and the others neve got the chance to tell me the "truth" about his cancer and use it as a weapon against me. And because of that, I discovered I was pregnant. Which meant... in my last life, when I died, I was already carrying our child. Two lives, lost at once. I pressed my forehead against the cold bathroom mirror and closed my eyes, an unspeakable grief washing over me. But when I opened them again, I looked at my reflection, my pale lips pressed into a firm line. I knew this child couldn't stay. The timing was all wrong. I had a war to fight with Julian and his friends; I was in no position to care for < baby. I placed a hand on my stomach, a plan slowly taking shape in my mind. Even though our relationship was in shambles, years of history weren't so easily erased. Julian still cared. And as long as he cared, this child I was destined to lose could serve its purpose. Its greatest purpose. I let out a slow breath and whispered to my belly, "I'm so sorry." The next morning, I tiptoed out of my room, hoping to slip out unnoticed. But my mother was already awake. She was on the small balcony as always, a silhouette against the faint morning light, her expression unread- able. Her voice floated out like a ghost's whisper. "Up so early. Which stray are you meeting?" The words stung. "Definitely not your precious Michael," I retorted. To my surprise, she didn't argue this time. Her voice softened. "I already asked for you. Michael will be back in a few days. Just meet him once..." Click. I shut the front door, cutting her off. I didn't need to hear the rest of her tired old speech. I went to the hospital where Julian was staying. But I didn't go to his room. I watched from the shadows. He was awake. Lana was by his side the entire day, a picture of devotion. Zack would come in, but he never stayed long. He'd pace out to the stairwell to smoke, brooding. But he couldn't bring himself to leave, torturi ng himself with the sight of the woman he loved fussing over his best friend. That's when I made my move. I walked down the stairs. Zack heard my footsteps and looked up. When he saw it was me, his face hardened into a scowl. He took a long drag from his cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. "What are you doing here?" he grunted. "Didn' you learn your lesson last time?" I looked him straight in the eye and smiled. "You know, for a supposedly high-class woman, Lana sure is cheap. Doesn't she have any shame, being homewrecker?" Zack's expression changed instantly. He pointed a trembling finger at me, his voice a low growl. "You watch your damn mouth." I arched an eyebrow and took another step closer, my voice low and taunting. "I've changed my mind. I'm no divorcing Julian after all." "That way, she'll never get her chance to move up. "Although, a cheap slut like her and a pathetic lapdog like you do make a perfect pair." Zack cursed, a vein throbbing in his temple. He reacted on instinct, shoving me hard. He was about to do more. But he never expected my next move. I let my foot slip, deliberately, and went tumbling down the stairs. Zack froze, his eyes wide, watching me from the top of the staircase. I curled into a ball at the bottom, clut- ching my stomach, my face pale. "My baby..." I whispered, my voice trembling. The cigarette fell from Zack's fingers. The color drained from his face. He was utterly horrified. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!