8-Month-Pregnant, Strapped to a Drop Tower by Him

Chapter 2

James gently kissed the faint marks on Sophia's arm, remnants of her fall, his eyes full of pain.

The two of them lay together on my marriage bed.

The wedding photo on the bedside table trembled, as if the picture itself was mourning.

I looked at it, the photo of us, smiling, while I was full of love and he stood cold as ever. It hit me then, with a brutal clarity: even souls can cry.

But James, you don't need to wait for the next time.

Because... I'm already gone.

Back then, when I was desperate to escape, he watched me, eight months pregnant, run around like a headless chicken, panic flooding my every step.

In the end, he had his bodyguards drag me back, and when patience wore thin, he had me strapped into the drop tower.

He watched as I screamed, terrified, the tower rising higher and higher.

When the fluid gushed from me, I cried out, begging him to save our baby, my water breaking in a rush.

For a moment, he hesitated. But then Sophia, weak in his arms, whispered, "Emily's due date's still a week away. She's scared, even wet herself before going up. Maybe we should just let it go... I'm fine."

The disgust in James' voice hit like a slap. "Emily, you're pathetic. Using our baby to get attention? Stay up there and think about what you've done."

At a hundred meters in the air, the cold wind made my teeth chatter. My stomach twisted in pain, and I realized the baby was coming. In desperation, I fought the ropes that bound me, my hands raw and bloody as I struggled for freedom.

By the third ascent, I pushed with everything I had, and finally, a tiny cry, weak, fragile, reached my ears.

But I didn't even realize the tower had already reached the top again.

I didn't get to see if our baby was a boy or a girl before the weightlessness sent it falling.

I reached out, helpless, but the injury on my hand made it impossible to hold on.

I could only scream, my heart breaking as the tiny body crashed to the ground, crushed beyond recognition.

Blood sprayed through the air like a twisted rainstorm.

And then, silence. I stopped breathing.

What was James doing?

He was busy gathering the best doctors in the city to make sure Sophia's little scratches wouldn't leave a scar.

He'd bought 9,999 roses, the rarest jewelry in the world, just to make sure his frightened first love wouldn't be scared anymore.

And when someone tried to tell him about me, he snapped, "Even if she dies, it's her own fault."

"Alright, her due date's in two days. Bring Emily over to apologize to Sophia. She must be filthy after being scared enough to wet herself. Make sure she cleans up before coming."

James held Sophia on his lap as he worked, her small hand tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Why don't we just let it go? I believe Emily didn't mean it. I shouldn't have come back. I just wanted to be by your side. I didn't mean for all of this to happen."

James took her hand in his, his voice soft but determined. "Sophia, you saved my life. For that, I'll protect you forever. Emily is my wife, and she should be understanding and accommodating towards you. But instead, she keeps provoking you, making things worse."

He looked away, his gaze distant, as if he could still feel the weight of the past. "I can't bear to think about what would've happened if the fire department hadn't saved you. I'd never forgive myself."