Ashton didn't wait for Ivy to answer.
He simply tightened his grip around her wrist and continued dragging her down the long, cold hospital hallway. The bright lights above flickered slightly, making everything feel more unbearable, more harsh, more empty.
Ivy walked after him without fighting.
Her body felt too weak to resist.
Her steps were small and unsteady, and every movement made her ribs ache.
Her head throbbed.
Her throat felt tight.
Her knees were shaking already — and she knew the worst part hadn't even begun.
Ashton didn't slow down for her.
He walked fast, like he was late for something important.
The whole time he never once looked back at her. Not even when her breaths grew louder from the pain.
It was like he was dragging a stranger.
Not his wife.
Not the woman carrying the child he believed was his.
They finally reached a white door with a blue sign that read:
BLOOD WITHDRAWAL UNIT
Ashton pushed the door open without knocking and pulled her inside.
A nurse in a white uniform looked up, startled.
"Oh—Mr. Ashton," she said quickly. "You're back. But she…"
The nurse's eyes softened when she saw Ivy's pale face and tired eyes.
"She shouldn't be doing this today. She's too weak."
Ashton didn't even blink.
"She'll be fine," he said. "Just do it."
The nurse hesitated for a second, but Ashton's cold stare pushed her into silence.
She gave Ivy a small, apologetic nod and pointed to the chair.
"Please sit."
The chair was metal with thin padding.
It looked uncomfortable, cold, and too hard for her fragile body — but Ivy walked toward it without a word.
Ashton released her wrist only when she reached the chair. His fingers left a faint red mark on her skin, but he didn't bother looking at it. Ivy slowly sat down, trying not to wince when her muscles trembled under her own weight.
Her heart felt heavy as she settled into the chair.
Everything was spinning around her — slowly at first, then stronger.
Her eyes dropped to the floor.
A piece of her slipped away the moment her body made contact with the chair.
The nurse came closer. "It'll be quick," she said softly.
Ivy nodded, though her lips barely moved.
She tried not to look at Ashton, but she could feel his presence beside her — tall, cold, distant… like a wall she could never climb over again.
He stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring at his phone, not her.
As if she meant nothing at all.
The nurse tied the elastic band around Ivy's arm.
Her skin felt cold under the nurse's fingers.
Even the air around her felt heavy and sharp.
"You're dehydrated," the nurse whispered. "This may make you feel dizzy."
Ivy swallowed weakly and whispered, "It's fine."
Because fighting wouldn't change anything.
She already knew that.
The needle slid into her skin.
Her breath hitched, but she kept still.
The red line of blood slowly moved through the tube, filling the small bag hanging beside her.
She stared at it.
It looked darker than usual.
Thicker.
Tired — like her body was giving away a piece of itself too fast.
She felt her strength draining with every second.
But the worst part wasn't the needle.
It wasn't the pain.
It was Ashton.
Standing there…
Unbothered.
Cold.
Heartless.
The man who once held her like she was his safest place.
The man who once kissed her forehead and traced circles on her hand when she couldn't sleep.
The man who once laughed with her on the rooftop at school, promising that she would never be alone.
Her mind slipped — not into darkness yet — but into memories she tried so hard to bury.
— The first time he tied her shoelaces because she didn't know how to fix them properly.
He laughed at her cute mistake, then pulled her closer and said, "You'll always have me."
— The night they studied together in the library.
He fell asleep on her lap, softly breathing against her stomach, holding onto her hand like he never wanted to let go.
— The time he carried her on his back during the college festival because she twisted her ankle.
He walked around the whole place with her, joking and complaining loudly that she was too heavy — but smiling the entire time.
— His confession on graduation night.
A slow whisper.
A gentle kiss.
A promise that she was his whole world.
All lies.
All part of a plan.
All fake.
Her vision blurred.
The stronger the memories became, the more painful the present felt.
Her heart squeezed painfully inside her chest.
She didn't try to hold back her tears anymore.
One fell.
Then another.
Then more.
The nurse looked at her with concern, but Ivy kept wiping her face quietly, pretending everything was fine.
She was losing too much blood.
Her lips were turning pale.
Her hands were trembling on her lap.
"Ashton…" she whispered weakly.
He didn't answer.
Her voice cracked again.
"Ashton… I feel…"
He didn't look up from his phone.
She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.
The room tilted slightly.
The chair under her body felt unstable.
Her breathing slowed.
Her lashes fluttered.
Her fingers loosened.
Her head dropped forward.
The nurse gasped.
"Miss Ivy? Miss Ivy!"
Ivy heard the voice in the distance, far away, like it was underwater.
Her body slid to the side as she began to fall from the chair.
Everything went black for a moment—
But she didn't hit the ground.
Strong arms caught her at the last second.
Not gentle.
Not protective.
Just reflex.
"Ashton!" the nurse cried. "She's fainting—!"
"I can see that," he said coldly, holding Ivy upright as her head lolled against his chest.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes were closed.
Her lips trembled as she breathed faintly.
And for the first time…
Ashton finally looked at her.
But there was no fear in his eyes.
No panic.
No guilt.
Just annoyance.
"Ivy," he said sharply, tightening his hold on her limp shoulders. "Open your eyes."
But Ivy couldn't hear him.
Her body was too weak.
Her mind too heavy.
Her heart too broken.
She was gone inside the darkness.
And Ashton held her only because letting her fall would cause trouble.
The nurse's voice cracked in panic.
"IVY! IVY!!"