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

Chapter 7

Here's your refined version in natural, vivid American English:

I laughed and cried at the same time, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably.

James, I can't wait to see your expression when you finally learn the truth…

Alone in the study, he sat in front of his computer.

The USB drive the manager had given him was still plugged in. His mouse hovered over the file, back and forth, hesitation tightening his features. His breathing grew ragged, his agitation clear, but in the end, he didn't open it.

Instead, he slammed his fist on the desk and cursed through gritted teeth.

"Emily! You wretched woman. When the hospital confirms this was all a lie, I'll make you pay!"

But the unease gnawed at him, refusing to let go. He spent the entire night on the balcony, smoking one cigarette after another, his mind in turmoil.

The next morning, his phone rang.

It was the hospital.

James rushed there immediately, only to be met with a brutal punch to the face.

The blow sent him stumbling, the taste of blood spreading in his mouth. Before he could even react, Michael, his childhood friend, grabbed him by the collar, his eyes blazing with fury.

"James! You're a murderer, do you even realize that?!"

James' expression darkened. He was about to retaliate when Michael shoved a death certificate into his chest.

"You have no idea how much she suffered before she died, do you?" Michael's voice shook with rage and grief. "Everyone knew Emily was terrified of heights, and you still made her ride that damn drop tower!"

James' fingers clenched around the paper. His mind reeled.

Michael's voice cut through like a blade.

"Because of her fear, she went into premature labor. Her body was under so much strain that the tear was over five centimeters long. Do you understand what that means?!"

"She hemorrhaged, James. Bled out completely. The autopsy report says she had almost no blood left in her body when she died. And the worst part?"

Michael's voice cracked.

"She tried to protect the baby."

James' breath hitched.

"But her right hand, " Michael grabbed James' wrist and squeezed hard. "The same hand she injured saving you, she couldn't even hold onto her own child! She had to watch helplessly as her baby died right in front of her!"

Michael shoved him away in disgust. "James, you goddamn monster. Emily did everything for you! She saved your life! She stood by you when you had nothing, carried your child, was your wife! And you threw it all away for Sophia?"

James felt like the ground had split beneath him.

"What... what old injury?" His voice was hoarse.

Michael let out a bitter laugh. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"James, we all grew up together. It was obvious to everyone that Emily liked you from the moment she transferred to our school. When your mother tried to jump off that building with you, Emily was the one who risked her life to hold onto you! She was barely more than a kid herself, but she kept you from falling for half an hour. Do you have any idea what that did to her?"

Michael's voice shook with rage.

"When the paramedics got there, her right hand was already crushed! The bones were broken, James! She had to go through months of physical therapy, but she never once told you, because she didn't want to bring up your pain."

James' head was spinning.

Michael yanked up Emily's cold, lifeless hand and thrust it in front of him.

"Look at her wrist! The scars are still there! That's from that day, from saving you! And what did you do?!"

"You turned around and chose Sophia!"

Michael let out a sharp breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"When Sophia left, I thought maybe, just maybe, you'd finally realize what you had with Emily. But no. Instead, you killed her."

James' body was numb.

He barely registered Michael's next punch, landing squarely on his jaw.

This time, James didn't fight back.

Michael stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

James stood there, his breath shallow, his thoughts a storm of confusion and disbelief.

His mind dragged him back to that day.

His mother had dragged him to the rooftop. He had been drowning in despair, too drugged to even keep his eyes open.

And then,

A pair of hands had grabbed him. Small, soft, but unbelievably strong.

He could still hear that voice, gentle yet firm, whispering to him, over and over,

"Hold on. Just a little longer. I won't let go."

He had used the last of his strength to cling to those hands.

And when he woke up in the hospital…

Sophia had been sitting by his bed.

And he had assumed, without a doubt, that it was her.