She Made a Comeback as a Renowned Doctor

"I'll give you a billion, but abort the child."

Hope Williams was taken aback, her hands clutching the pregnancy test report, struggling to remain calm.

She covered her chest, feeling as though a huge stone was pressing down on her, making it impossible for her to breathe.

"What did you just say? Abort the child?"

A buzzing echoed in her ears, everything seemed to be an illusion.

Hope Williams raised her eyes, staring at him incredulously.

Today was supposed to be their third wedding anniversary, and she had nervously but eagerly planned to tell him about the pregnancy.

And he actually wanted her to abort the child!

After a moment of silence, the man's icy voice came again, "Joy has returned, and our marriage should end now."

"This child was an accident, he shouldn't have come, I won't keep him. Take this billion as compensation for these years, or if you have other demands, let me know. As long as they're not excessive, I can agree."

Hope Williams trembled, it took her a moment to find her voice again, "You, you mean you still want to... divorce me?"

"Mm." His voice was thin, cool, devoid of emotion.

Hope Williams clenched her fists, feeling as if her heart was being brutally stabbed with a knife, so painful she dared not breathe.

Just because Joy Ward had returned.

Even though she was pregnant, he still wanted a divorce, to abort the child.

He said the child shouldn't have come.

Waylon Lewis took out a cigarette from the pack, paused as he was about to bite into it, then put it back.

He pulled out documents from the drawer, his slender fingers slowly handing them to Hope, "Have a look, and if there's no objection, sign."

Hope didn't take them, so Waylon Lewis placed the divorce agreement on the table.

"I'll arrange an appointment at the hospital for you, think it over and sign when you're ready, I have things to do, heading back to the office."

Waylon Lewis stood up.

"Waylon Lewis." Hope Williams called out to him, choking up.

Waylon Lewis coldly turned back.

"What?"

Tears filled Hope's eyes as she looked up at him pleadingly, "I don't want the money, and I agree to the divorce, but can we... keep the child?"

This was her smallest request as a mother—to keep the child, she could give up everything else.

Waylon Lewis's deep eyes stayed on her face as well; he never liked being defied, what Waylon Lewis commanded was irrefutable; she knew this man, but still, she couldn't help asking.

"No."

The man's response was firm, dominating, and irrefutable.

After speaking, he didn't pause but stepped out and left, leaving Hope Williams alone in the empty villa.

She had been married to Waylon Lewis for three years, and although they were husband and wife, Hope knew he hadn't married her for love.

He didn't love her, yet she naively held onto hope, thinking one day she might warm this man's heart.

For three years of marriage, she had thought daily about how to be a good wife.

Every day she got up earlier than the servants, busier than the servants, all just to cook herself so that he could come home to her cooked meals and see a perfect home.

No matter how late it was, she would always leave a light on for him, only being able to sleep peacefully once he had returned.

She lived in this cold cage, envied by many women for a life of luxury, day after day, year after year, turned into a Husband-Waiting Stone.

But she didn't care, Hope told herself daily that being by his side was enough.

She thought they would continue to live quietly and steadily.

But reality slapped her in the face, unexpectedly.

Tears finally overwhelmed her, and Hope Williams gasped for air, her hands fidgeting with the fabric over her chest as her bitten lower lip quivered with sobs.

Today she finally realized, not loving means not loving!

Not knowing how much time had passed, Hope picked up the "Divorce Agreement" on the table, her every stroke of the pen firm.

It was over now!

From now on, Hope Williams would live for herself!

...

Waylon Lewis returned home earlier than usual today.

The little woman who used to greet him upon his arrival was absent today.

He ignored this faint anticipation.

The servant took his coat.

Waylon frowned slightly, asking dissatisfied, "Where is the lady?"

"Sir, the lady left a few hours ago."

Waylon walked into the living room, the cold coffee table bore a signed divorce agreement and an untouched check.

Waylon's gaze grew darker, a wave of irritation at his heart, he tugged at his tie, returning to his room, seeing the woman's absence, the consistently tidy room, her belongings all vanished without a trace.

...