Chapter 2 Episode 2

"Shut your mouth, Emma! After what you did to Sophie, you still have the nerve to say her name? You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Caleb's voice exploded in the room, loud and sharp like shattered glass.

But Emma didn't flinch. Her gaze was steady, unblinking. She was tired of defending herself to a man who never listened-who never really saw her.

"No, Caleb," she said quietly. "I'm not the one who should be ashamed. Your precious Sophie knows exactly what she's done, and so do you."

There was no guilt on her face. Only exhaustion.

She used to take his insults like bruises, quietly, obediently. But not anymore. If he wanted a fight, he'd get one.

Caleb's eyes narrowed. Fury lit his face. He stormed forward and grabbed her chin with a grip that sent pain shooting through her jaw.

"You think you can twist things?" he hissed. "You're just here to carry my child. A placeholder. Don't you dare drag Sophie's name into your pathetic drama again. And if you ever try to go against me, if you even think of stepping out of line. I swear, your whole family will disappear overnight."

Emma stared back at him, even as her bones ached beneath his grip. Her smile was small, bitter.

You already used me to blackmail my family. You don't need to keep reminding me.

"I'll give birth," she said. "And when it's over, we're done. You can have your life with Sophie. She's always been your choice anyway."

Caleb froze.

Emma turned her back and calmly walked to the wardrobe, ignoring his silence. She chose a simple dress, then turned to him one last time.

"For what it's worth" her voice softened " not everything you believe is the truth, Caleb. Sometimes, you only see what you want to."

With that, she disappeared into the dressing room.

By the time she returned, he was gone.

---

Downstairs, the housekeeper looked up as Emma came down the steps, coat in hand. Her face was pale, but composed.

"Ma'am... do you want me to go with you? To the hospital?"

Emma gave a small, tired laugh. "No, I'm not going to get rid of the baby, if that's what you're worried about".

The housekeeper frowned, clearly uneasy.

Emma reached out and touched the woman's arm gently. "I was joking. Kind of. But really, don't stress. I'll be okay on my own."

She walked toward the door.

From the second-floor balcony, Caleb watched her leave, a cigarette burning between his fingers.

He hated her, didn't he?

He told himself that over and over. So why did hearing her say " we're done" make his chest tighten?

Why did that word echo louder than her insults?

Before he could sort through it, the housekeeper knocked.

"Mr. Morgan," she said nervously. "Ma'am said something about the baby. I don't know if she meant it, but I thought you should know."

Caleb didn't respond. He just crushed the cigarette under his shoe and headed out the door.

---

Outside, he caught up with her just before she opened the car door. Without a word, he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward his own car, shoving her into the passenger seat.

"What the hell, Caleb?" she snapped, trying to jerk free. "Let go of me!"

"We're going to the hospital," he muttered, slamming the door. "You're not going to kill my child."

She let out a cold laugh. "Touching. Thanks for the fatherly concern."

He didn't respond. Just drove.

The appointment was routine.

Vitals. Ultrasound. Gentle instructions from the nurse. The baby's heartbeat filled the room-a soft, rhythmic thump that should've made something warm bloom inside them.

Emma's eyes watered as she listened. She held her breath.

Caleb, meanwhile, stepped out to answer a call. When he returned, his expression had darkened even further. Without preamble, he turned to the doctor.

"What's the earliest possible date for delivery?"

The doctor blinked in confusion. "You mean for a scheduled cesarean?"

"No," Caleb said flatly. "I mean, the earliest. Period."

Emma looked up slowly, heart dropping into her stomach.

The doctor hesitated, trying to choose his words. "Well... full term is healthiest. That's what we always recommend."

"I'm not asking for healthy," Caleb snapped. "I'm asking for fastest."

Emma knew then. He wanted the baby out, not because he was eager to be a father, but because he wanted to be done with her.

The doctor's smile faded. He glanced at Emma, then spoke more carefully. "Well... if it's absolutely necessary, we can consider a cesarean around 36 weeks. That gives the baby a stronger chance of survival."

"Too long," Caleb muttered. "What's the earliest you can do it?"

The doctor paused, clearly uncomfortable. "Seven months. But that's not ideal. And it would require serious monitoring. The baby might need NICU care. And with all due respect, Mr. Morgan, this isn't a one-sided decision. You need your wife's consent."

Emma gave a hollow laugh, her throat tight.

"Go ahead, Doctor. Tell him everything. Let him hear the truth from someone he might listen to."

---

Back in the car, the tension was unbearable.

"Four months from now," Caleb said. "We're doing the cesarean."

Emma turned to him, eyes wide. "Absolutely not."

"You don't get a say in this."

Her voice rose, fury pushing through her chest. "That baby is mine too, Caleb! You told me to carry this child. I never wanted to raise it in this mess, but you insisted!"

"I'm not breaking my word," he replied coldly. "The baby will be born. Just earlier. That's what the doctor said."

"You bastard!" she yelled, slamming her fists into his chest.

He caught her wrists, holding her steady until she collapsed back against the seat, tears streaking her face. He looked down at her with the same disgust he always carried.

"Are you finished?" he asked quietly. "Good. Now get it together. We're going home."

"You think you can control everything," she whispered. "But I won't let you destroy this too."

Caleb gave a humorless laugh. " The moment you blackmailed me into this marriage two years ago, you lost any right to lecture me."

He leaned closer, eyes like ice. "I don't care about you. I don't care about the baby. If I didn't need that child, I'd never have touched you. This..." he gestured between them "is my limit, Emma. Don't test it."

She stared at him, speechless...