Adrian parked the car right in front of my apartment and stepped out quickly to open the door for me.

“You still stay here?” he asked, raising a brow as he helped me down.

I gave him a questioning look, wondering how he knew.

Noticing, he chuckled nervously. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a stalker. I used to drop Morgan here whenever she came to visit you back in college.”

“Oh.” I nodded slowly, unlocking the gate.

My apartment wasn’t luxurious, but it was warm and cozy, and it had always been enough for me.

“Wow. I love your place,” Adrian said honestly as he stepped inside, his eyes roaming the living room.

I chuckled in disbelief. “Really? There’s actually nothing to like.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s simple, but the designs… the little touches… They're beautiful. Feels like you.”

That pulled a small smile from me. “That’s one of the reasons my father loves it too.”

At the mention of my dad, Adrian’s expression softened. “How’s he now?”

“He’s okay,” I said with a smile.

“Why don’t you bring him home to stay with you?”

I sighed, walking toward the sofa. “I always thought about that… but who’s going to take care of him? I can’t manage work, myself, and him all at once.”

“I’ll help you look for a nurse,” Adrian suggested. “I have someone recommendable. Very reliable.”

that made me smile. “Thank you.”

We talked more, drifting into work topics. Even though I wasn’t at KNT anymore, I still had responsibilities. I showed him my fresh sketches, but he shook his head.

“You should rest. Don’t push yourself. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning for work.”

I stood to bow lightly. “Thank you so much.”

He waved me off. “Don’t mention.” He smiled before finally leaving.

I exhaled in relief, shutting the door. But just as I turned, my heart dropped.

Not far from the building, I spotted a very familiar BMW.

And out of it stepped Vincent.

Handsome as always, but this time, his face looked… tired. Worn.

The last person I wanted to see right now.

“What are you doing here?” I asked sharply as he came closer.

His eyes locked on me, those eyes that always—always—had the power to make me weak if I wasn’t careful.

“It seems you’re alright,” he said finally, his voice low, almost like a sigh of relief.

“What do you mean?” I frowned, confused.

Instead of answering, he asked, “Why are you here?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you here? I should be the one asking that.”

He exhaled, his jaw clenching slightly. “Aren’t you supposed to visit your dad today?”

That threw me off. I noticed then he wasn’t in his usual suits.

“I can go by myself,” I answered firmly.

“I got a call from the nurse taking care of him,” Vincent said flatly. “He wished to see me too.”

I crossed my arms. “I’ll just tell him you’re busy. Don’t worry.”

“But I’m not busy. And he’s my father-in-law. Why should I ignore his call?”

I stared at him, anger simmering. “Then why did you always ignore his calls back then?”

His eyes darkened.

“You think the whole world spins around you, right? You come whenever you wish and leave whenever you wish. Aren’t you shameless?”

His teeth clenched, his steps closing in until I had to tilt my head up to meet his gaze.

“You really don’t know when to stop,” he muttered.

It was already 7 p.m. when we arrived at the hospital.

The silence in the car was suffocating.

I glanced at Vincent, who was acting like the perfect husband he had once pretended to be. Carrying flowers, straightening his shirt, walking beside me as though nothing was broken between us.

We entered my father’s ward. He was half-joking, half-arguing with the doctor about vegetables.

“I’m not a vegetarian!” he declared dramatically.

“Dad,” I laughed, rushing into his arms.

“Oh, my dear Alice,” he hugged me warmly.

Vincent placed the flowers neatly into a vase before greeting, “Hello, Dad.”

“Long time, son,” Henderson—my father—smiled wide.

And just like that, they started chatting, as if they hadn’t been distant for months. Work, the old patriarch’s health, business politics. Meanwhile, I quietly peeled oranges on the side table.

I was startled when Vincent took one slice from me without asking.

The casualness of it… my father noticed. His grin widened, and I knew that look.

He was about to say something ridiculous.

“Son,” Dad began, “you’ve been too busy working.”

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll make time to always see you,” Vincent said smoothly.

I nearly rolled my eyes. Liar.

But Dad’s expression softened. “What does an old man like me have to offer? What I want to see every day… is my grandchild.”

The words hit me like a thunderbolt.

My hands shook, nearly dropping the orange.

Vincent’s eyes darted to me instantly. His gaze was unreadable.

I forced a nervous smile. “Dad, you still have a long life ahead. We’re always busy with work.” I laughed weakly.

Dad frowned. “Busy or not, don’t you think the old patriarch also deserves to see his grandchild?”

“Don’t worry about that, Dad,” Vincent interjected with a smile.

I glared at him. What the hell are you doing? Stop giving him false hope!” I said in my mind.

Dad leaned back, still grinning. “How about a vacation? The both of you. Take time off.”

“I’ll think about that, Dad,” Vincent nodded like it was already settled.

My blood boiled.

Before I could say anything, a sudden nausea hit me. My stomach twisted violently.

Not here. Not now.

“What’s wrong, daughter?” Dad’s voice was full of concern.

I clamped a hand over my mouth and bolted into the bathroom inside the ward.

When I came out, pale and shaky, I froze.

A doctor was standing there, waiting.

Dad looked worried. “I asked him to check you. Vincent called for him.”

My heart dropped to my stomach.

“Oh no,” I thought.

Not now. Not like this.