The Spark He Showed Her, the Flame I Lost Chapter 01
Adrian Grant and I were the couple everyone envied—high school sweethearts who had made it all the way to the altar.
The day I got the pregnancy confirmation from my OB-GYN, I sent him a message.
Me: [I’m pregnant. The doctor said it’s a high-risk early pregnancy.]
He replied with only two words.
Adrian replied: [Oh. Okay.]
The next day, I found out that he had casually given Sophie Moore, the new intern from his alma mater, the keepsake he had given me back when we first fell in love.
When I confronted him, he only frowned with careless impatience. “Sophie’s had Mercury retrograde messing with her lately. What’s wrong with letting her borrow it as a good-luck charm for a few days? Do you always have to be so petty?”
In the past, that entitled tone of his would have cut me open.
This time, I did not make a scene. I simply turned around, calm and quiet, and scheduled an abortion procedure.
While I sat there waiting for my number to be called, I sent him one last message.
Me: [I’m at the hospital.]
A cold automatic reply popped up in the chat almost instantly.
[I’m in a meeting. Do not disturb.]
But in the very next second, Sophie put up a new Instagram post.
In the photo, Adrian was lowering his head to light the candles on her birthday cake, his eyes full of tenderness.
The caption was even more jarring.
[Thank you, Adrian, for ditching work to celebrate my birthday with me! A 100-day Snapstreak built on late-night Snaps finally sparked for real today~]
The image underneath was a screenshot of their Snapchat chat, the blazing fire emoji and “100” badge sitting beside his name.
I looked at the post and casually hit Like.
Then I turned around and lay down on the operating table. I signed my name on both the abortion consent form and the divorce agreement.
Adrian, I was done with our thirteen years together.
…
“Your ride still hasn’t come?” The nurse handed me the post-op paperwork. “Make sure you drink plenty of water when you get home. You still need to rest and recover after a procedure like this.”
“Thank you. I can manage on my own.” I took the papers from her, my voice very soft.
I had just stepped out of the exam room when Adrian’s call came in.
“What are you throwing a tantrum about now?” His voice was threaded with exhaustion.
“I was in a meeting earlier and didn’t check my phone. Where are you?”
“I’m at the hospital.” I looked toward the window at the end of the hallway.
“This again?” Adrian gave a soft, contemptuous laugh, cutting off the words I had been about to say.
“Claire Lawson, do you have to ruin the mood right now?”
“Sophie accidentally cut her finger while slicing the cake. I’m in the ER with her, getting it bandaged.”
My fingers tightened around the phone until they turned faintly white.
He was in the ER. I was on the OB-GYN floor.
There were only two floors between us.
“Go to that old-school bakery on Maple Street and bring over some rice pudding,” he ordered.
“Sophie got scared. She wants something sweet.”
“I can’t buy it,” I refused quietly.
The other end of the line went silent for a moment before Adrian’s tone cooled.
“Claire, can you be reasonable for once? She’s only twenty-two. Why are you picking a fight with a girl that young?”
“I’m not picking a fight.”
“Then who is this dead-eyed act supposed to be for?” He sighed, and his tone softened a little. “Be good. Don’t make me so tired. Pick up the rice pudding and come find me. Tonight, I’ll take you to that sushi place you love. Okay?”
In the past, I would have given in because of that tiny scrap of tenderness he tossed my way.
Now, I only felt my stomach twist.
“No need. I have something else to do.” I hung up.
When I reached the hospital lobby, I ran straight into Adrian as he walked out, supporting Sophie at his side.
There was a cartoon Band-Aid on Sophie’s index finger, and her eyes were red.
Adrian kept her tucked protectively beside him, his expression carrying a patience he had never once shown me in all thirteen years.
“Watch the step,” he reminded her in a low voice.
The moment he looked up, he saw me.
His brows drew together. “What are you doing here? Are you seriously following me?”
“I came to see a doctor.” I looked at him, my voice calm.
Sophie shrank behind him and spoke timidly.
“Claire, don’t blame Adrian.”
“I’m just too clumsy. I even managed to hurt myself cutting a cake. Adrian was only worried about me.”
“It’s fine. This isn’t your fault.” Adrian patted her shoulder to comfort her.
Then his gaze dropped to my empty hands, and his face darkened.
“Didn’t I tell you to buy rice pudding? Why did you come here empty-handed?”
“I told you. I couldn’t buy it.”
Adrian stared at my face for a few seconds, impatience seeping into his voice.
“Claire, if you’re going to pretend to be sick, at least make it believable.”
“All this does is make me think you’re being unreasonable.”
His wrist lifted slightly, revealing an evil-eye bracelet beneath his cuff.
I remembered the contrast all too clearly. Last month, I had spent an entire month’s salary on a handcrafted tie for him. He had only glanced at it before tossing it by the entryway, saying that wearing bargain-bin accessories like that would make him look cheap.
But now, he treated the evil-eye bracelet Sophie had casually bought from a sidewalk souvenir stand like a treasure, refusing to take it off even in the shower.
“Isn’t it cute?” Sophie followed my gaze, the corner of her mouth curling with a smug smile, though her voice remained innocent.
“I bought it from a little street stand yesterday. Adrian insisted on wearing it all the time. He said it’s supposed to keep bad luck away.”
“It’s cute.” I nodded calmly.
Adrian seemed surprised by my calm. He narrowed his eyes and studied me.
“What exactly is wrong with you today?” His tone eased a little. “You look awful. Are you really sick?”
“Just a minor issue.” I pushed the abortion consent form deeper into my bag.
He did not ask anything else, because Sophie gently tugged on his sleeve.
“Adrian, my hand really hurts. Can you take me home?”
“Of course.” Adrian immediately turned to her, his gaze soft.
“Take an Uber home by yourself. Sophie got scared, so I’ll take her back to her apartment first.”
“I might be home late tonight. Go to sleep without me.”
“Okay,” I answered, then turned toward the doors.
I did not get hysterical, and I did not ask him any questions.
I had just walked out of the hospital when my phone vibrated.
It was a message from HR at corporate headquarters.
HR: [Ms. Lawson, the three-year assignment to the Paris office has been finalized. If you’ve made your decision, you can come in next Monday to sign the transfer paperwork.]
I looked at the screen, my fingers moving without hesitation.
I replied: [I’ve made my decision. See you next Monday.]