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Chapter 1

A month before I was supposed to marry James Harrington, he told me he wanted to have a child with his first love.

I said no. But he kept bringing it up.

Two weeks before the wedding, I saw a post on his ex Rebecca's Instagram.

In the photo, James was half-kneeling in front of her, his head bowed as he kissed her slightly swollen belly. His expression was tender, almost reverent.

"Thank you, James, for letting me have a child of ours in the last days of my life."

That's when I found out—

Rebecca was already two months pregnant.

He hadn't asked for my opinion. He'd never even thought to tell me.

The next day, I canceled the wedding, turned off my phone, and dragged my suitcase out of the apartment we'd shared.

I walked straight through the doors of the National Advanced Science and Defense Technology Laboratory—the defense research program I'd once turned down because of him.

From that moment on, James Harrington completely disappeared from my life.

...

"She's very sick. She might not make it past a few years. Her only wish is to have a child before she dies. She saved my life once, Ellie. I have to repay her." James tried to convince me.

When I didn't agree, he started bringing it up every single day.

"It's IVF. You know—no physical... contact involved. Just a genetic donation."

I stared at him, feeling my world crack apart piece by piece.

"We're getting married next month." I forced myself to speak clearly. "You want to have a child with your first love, and I'm... the one who's supposed to wear the white dress at our wedding."

"Ellie, you have to understand. I can't just stand by and watch the woman who saved my life die with regrets."

"So you're going to use our future... to pay her back?" My throat felt like it had been slashed with something sharp.

James's brow furrowed slightly. "I'm still going to marry you. That won't change. This child is just... a responsibility."

A responsibility.

Apparently, to him, I wasn't even worth as much as Rebecca's dying wish.

After that night, we argued again and again.

Every time, I felt like I was being torn apart.

But no matter what I said, James's attitude never wavered.

James was about to continue when his phone suddenly lit up—one of those encrypted notifications he never silenced.

He only glanced at the screen, but his entire expression tightened imperceptibly.

The next second, he stood up, grabbed his coat, and walked straight into the soundproof study with his phone.

The door closed softly behind him.

I stared at that door, a bitter smile slowly forming on my lips.

We weren't childhood sweethearts.

We weren't soulmates bound by fate.

I was just—

The girl who'd had a crush on him all through high school and into grad school.

He was the center of everyone's attention, and I'd always stood in the most inconspicuous corner, quietly writing his name in the margins of my lab notebooks.

He never noticed me.

It wasn't until two years after he broke up with his first love that he finally looked my way.

Back then, I thought it was finally my turn to be seen.

But in reality, even after six years together, he still kept certain things at an instinctive distance from me.

Like—his work.

He was the youngest technical director at Harrington Tech Group, involved in countless classified projects.

I thought he was just being cautious because of his profession. But later, I realized—

He didn't want me anywhere near the "periphery" of his work.

Once, after he'd gone two days without sleep and collapsed on the couch, the neural interface device behind his ear was still glowing with a faint blue light. I was worried it would overheat and disturb his rest, so I tried to turn it off for him.

The moment my fingers got close to the device, he woke up like someone breaking through ice from deep water, gasping for air, and grabbed my wrist.

"Don't touch it."

His eyes were full of wariness.

That night, I sat on a stool in the kitchen, clutching a cold glass of water until dawn.

I told myself it wasn't because he didn't trust me.

It was just his cautiousness from how he'd grown up, his wariness toward the world—not toward me.

But six years later, nothing had changed.

When the soundproof door finally opened again, James emerged with unmistakable relief and joy in his expression.

He fastened his coat buttons as he grabbed his car keys. "I need to go out. Think about it some more, okay?"

I watched him leave without looking back, and felt my heart break.

The only person who could make him rush out like this in the middle of the night was Rebecca.

Sure enough, not long after, I saw Rebecca's Instagram update. When I opened it, I nearly fainted.