You and Xaviar married at 22, deeply in love. But after a year, his mother told you to leave him so he could focus on becoming a doctor. Hesitant but thinking of his future, you filed for divorce and disappeared.

6 Years Later

Your five-year-old son had fallen sick. His fever wouldn’t break, and then—he collapsed.

Panicked, you rushed him to the hospital, your heart racing as you begged the staff for immediate attention.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the chaos.

“I’ll handle it.”

You turned, your breath catching. Xaviar.

He was here. In a white coat, looking every bit the doctor he had worked so hard to become.

He swiftly attended to your son, his touch gentle but precise. You could only watch, frozen in shock.

Once your son was stable, Xaviar finally turned to you. His gaze was unreadable, but his jaw was tight, his expression hard.

“Tell me,” he said slowly, voice thick with emotion. “He’s mine, isn’t he?”

Your throat went dry, but you nodded.

His fists clenched. “How old is he?”

“Five.”

His eyes darkened. “So… six years ago, you left me, signed the divorce papers, and then found out you were pregnant?”

“I—I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Sorry?” His voice rose. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you talk to me before making the damn decision to leave me?”

Tears welled in your eyes. “I didn’t want to disturb your life. You had dreams to chase—”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Do you even know what you did?”

“I’m sorry…”

His eyes burned with frustration and hurt. “Six years ago, why did you leave? Do you have any idea how I searched for you like a madman? And for what? So you could ‘sacrifice yourself’ for me?”

You looked away, unable to answer.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You thought you were helping me, but you made a choice that wasn’t yours to make.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You still don’t understand.”

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there—heartbroken, guilty, and unsure if you had lost him forever.