Janet’s POV 

Leaning against the wall for support, I managed to call room service. “Executive floor, room 219. I think I have a sprained ankle, it’s really painful.” 

Before I could hear a response, I hung up, the pain radiating through my body, intensified by the image of Rowan and Flora. 

I had seen how women flocked to Rowan, eager for his attention, only to be met with his usual indifference. I thought he was ruthless with all of them—but seeing him rush off with Flora changed everything. 

Minutes later, I was wheeled into the nearest hospital. 

The hospital smelled of antiseptic, sharp and cold, and the sound of muffled voices filled the air. I limped to the receptionist’s desk, every step sending pain shooting up my leg. 

But my ankle wasn’t the worst of it. My chest felt like it was being squeezed, like the weight of everything was crushing me. 

I saw him. 

Rowan. 

He was standing outside Flora’s room, his hand resting on the doorframe. His head was down, but when he looked up, his eyes met mine. 

Before I could process it, he grabbed my arm, his grip tight, and yanked me away. 

“Rowan, my ankle!” I winced, stumbling with the pain, but he didn’t stop until we were in the hallway. He released my arm suddenly, and I leaned against the wall for support. 

“What were you thinking coming in there? Do you still want to hurt her?” the veins of his neck popped out as he whisper-shouted. 

I stared back at the man who had now become more of a stranger to me. “You think I’ll get someone injured on purpose? Really, Rowan? Look at me. My ankle was hurt! Or does that not matter anymore? What has come over you?” 

His jaw clenched, his voice turning colder. “Let me see your ankle. Does it really hurt, or is this just another act to prove Flora wrong?” 

Tears pricked my eyes at his accusation. “You think I’m pretending?” My voice cracked. “Why would I do that?” 

“Because of some stupid trip we didn’t take? You’ve been taking your frustrations out on her!” His tone raised, sharp and biting. “I told you I’d make it up to you. Can’t you stop making scenes? Stop with the petty jealousy?” 

Before I could respond, Flora’s voice called out, “Rowan? Can you check my arm? I think it’s broken again.” 

Rowan turned, but I grabbed his arm, my voice desperate. “Rowan… please, just this once, stay with me. My foot really hurts. Please.” 

He glanced back at me, his eyes cold and distant. “Stop pretending, Janet. Go home and rest. You look like a mess.” 

I felt my breath catch as he pulled away and walked back into Flora’s room, leaving me standing there, tears streaming down my face. 

Leaning against the wall for support, my legs wobbled beneath me. Anger, heartbreak—they crashed over me in waves. My heart felt heavy, my throat tight. 

Why, Rowan? Why are you doing this? 

I tried to take a step, but the pain in my ankle made me wince. My body screamed for me to stop, but my heart screamed louder. 

I had to know what was happening. 

“Excuse me,” I said, stopping a passing doctor. “Flora… the woman in room 204. Is she okay?” 

The doctor gave me a brief, cautious smile. “Yes, she’s stable. But we’re running tests to ensure the baby is fine after the fall.” 

I froze. What baby? 

“She’s…pregnant?” My voice barely came out, like the words were caught in my throat. 

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed, looking down at his clipboard. “Still in early pregnancy. Are you her family? Her fall might have caused some complications, but we’re monitoring her closely. Don’t worry.” 

I couldn’t move. My legs felt like lead, my heart pounding so loud I thought the whole hospital could hear it. 

Pregnant. Flora was pregnant. While her husband had already passed away 3 months ago. 

I forced myself to stand straighter, to push the pain aside. I tried to walk toward her room, but the sharp pain in my ankle made me stumble. I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed Rowan’s number. 

He didn’t answer. 

I called again. And still No answer. 

I tried a third time, my breath hitching with every ring, but he hung up. 

I stared at my phone, my hands trembling. “Unbelievable,” I muttered, stuffing it back into my bag. “You’ll pick up for her, but not for me. Of course.” 

I limped toward the surgical ward, each step slow and painful. My ankle throbbed with every movement, but I didn’t care anymore. 

The doctor in the ward was kind. She worked quickly, cleaning the wound and wrapping it tightly. I barely flinched, the physical pain nothing compared to the storm raging inside me. 

“You’re quite tough,” she said with a smile. “Not like the last patient we treated. Her injury was much smaller, but she insisted on being admitted.” 

I let out a bitter laugh, my voice hollow. “Let me guess. She’s pregnant, right?” 

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Yes. You know her?” She chuckled softly, adding, “Her husband was so handsome and attentive. He was holding her when they arrived, staying close the whole time.” 

I laughed again, but it was empty. “That wasn’t her husband,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “That was mine.” 

The doctor’s face froze, realization dawning too late. “I’m… I’m sorry,” she stammered. 

“It’s okay,” I said, a smile that didn’t reach my eyes pulling at my lips. “He’s not anymore.” 

I pulled out my phone again, my hands shaking as I scrolled to a number I hadn’t dialed in years. 

My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, then I pressed call. 

The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered. Warm, calm, and steady. “So, you finally decided to call me.” 

I couldn’t speak. The sobs I’d been holding back came pouring out, and I pressed the phone to my ear as if that would make everything better. 

“Janet?” His voice was alarmed now. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

I sucked in a shaky breath, forcing the words out through the tears. “I need you to prepare the divorce papers for me. And come pick me up…”