Dinner had been ready for nearly twenty minutes.
Steam still rose from the plates, perfectly timed, thoughtfully plated. The pork belly was tender, glistening with a honeyed glaze. The rice was fluffed just the way he liked it, each grain separate and soft. Even the cabbage soup, simple, humble, smelled like home. Comfort. Familiarity.
Jade had prepared it all herself. Her hands ached from slicing and stirring, her ankles swollen from hours on her feet. Her head buzzed from standing too long under the kitchen light, but tonight was supposed to feel different.
Just this once, she wanted a quiet meal.
One evening where she wouldn't have to eat alone.
At last, Cole sat across from her. He wore one of his tailored shirts, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up like he had just come from something important. His watch gleamed under the warm light. His face, as always, was unreadable, polished, composed, miles away.
He didn't compliment the food. He didn't ask about her day.
But he was here.
So she smiled anyway.
"Eat while it's hot," she said softly, gently sliding the soup toward him, her fingers lingering on the edge of the bowl. A quiet offering.
He nodded absently, barely glancing up, and reached for his phone. Notifications blinked on the screen. A new message. Then,
A call.
The name made her heart stop.
Vivien.
It hovered there, glowing like something radioactive.
Jade stared at the screen, paralyzed. The world around her slowed to a crawl.
Cole didn't hesitate. He answered immediately.
"Vivien?" His voice shifted—soft. Warm.
Familiar in a way Jade hadn't heard in months. Maybe longer.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
He was already pushing back his chair before she could form a thought. The legs scraped sharply against the floor, the sound jarring in the quiet dining room.
"Where are you?" he said, already grabbing his keys. "Don't move, I'm coming."
"Cole," Jade said, rising halfway from her seat, her voice cracking from the strain of holding herself together. "Wait. Can't it wait just a little? I made this for—"
But the door had already slammed shut.
He was gone.
The silence left behind hit like a slap.
The soup cooled.
The rice stiffened.
Her shoulders sagged forward, deflated. Her hands trembled as she reached for her glass, fingers slipping slightly on the condensation.
Her chest felt tight, like something was caving in, collapsing inward, making it hard to breathe.
She swallowed hard. Then again. It didn't help.
She tried to sit again, tried to pretend it was just another lonely meal. But then,
A jolt of pain.
Sudden. Sharp. Deep.
She gasped, one hand instinctively flying to her lower belly. Her other hand clutched the edge of the table.
Another wave of pain hit, hot, unforgiving, and this time, something else followed.
Something wet.
She looked down.
Her dress was blooming red.
A warm flood pooled beneath her. A slow, terrifying spread.
The glass slipped from her hand and shattered across the marble floor, shards scattering like ice.
She stumbled backward in shock, bumping into the corner of the table. Her vision blurred.
The lights tilted. The floor wavered beneath her. Her knees gave out.
She crumpled, her body folding inward protectively around her stomach.
The staff had already left for the evening. The house was quiet, too quiet.
Only Evan remained, tucked away in the kitchen, working late.
He heard the crash. And then the silence. Too long. Too wrong.
When he reached the dining room, he stopped cold.
"Ma'am?" he choked out, rushing forward.
Jade was on the floor. Her dress soaked. Her eyes wide and glassy. Her arms curled protectively around her stomach like a broken shield.
"Ma'am!" Evan shouted, dropping to his knees beside her. "You're bleeding, stay with me, please, stay awake!"
She was barely conscious. Her lips moved, struggling to form words.
"Don't… let him leave…" she whispered, a ghost of a breath. "The baby…"
Panic surged through Evan's chest.
"Help!" he shouted, his voice rising as he fumbled for his phone. "We need an ambulance, now!"
He gathered her into his arms, not caring that blood was soaking through his sleeves. Her head lolled against his shoulder. Her breathing was shallow, uneven.
She had been so strong. So quiet. So careful with her pain.
But now her body was screaming what her voice never dared to say—
Enough.