After All the Waves Have Passed, Move Forward to the New
Chapter 1
It’s been three years since I married Grant Caldwell, and finally, I’m pregnant.
He denied my leave request, ordering me to work until the day I give birth.
I always thought he was afraid something might happen to me if I stayed home alone, that he wouldn’t be able to get back in time.
Until his secretary, Star Jones, was injured, bleeding profusely, and I was dragged in to donate blood. That’s when I overheard the doctor.
“Ms. Jones, Mr. Caldwell really treasures you,” the doctor said, his voice full of envy. “You have a clotting disorder, and you’re a rare blood type. Mr. Caldwell, to ensure your safety, keeps a mobile blood bank on hand.”
My heart turned to ash.
Finally, I understood why I was initially rejected from my interview at Caldwell Corp, only to be called back because of my blood work.
I understood why my leave request was denied.
It was all because I also have the rare blood type.
I gave up, left the city, and walked away.
1.
Star Jones’s expression was smug.
“Grant is just being overprotective,” she said. “He won’t even let me pour my own water. I’m not as fragile as he thinks, I’ll protect myself for him. I don’t need a blood bank.”
Grant’s face remained grim, but his voice trembled with fear when he spoke.
“Nonsense! It’s Susan Miller’s honor to be your blood bank! Star, you’re infinitely more important to me than someone as lowly as her. Seeing you bleed, I almost went crazy! Thank God you’re alright.”
He gently held her in his arms, visibly shaking. Like he was holding a priceless, fragile vase.
Star chuckled, “Lowly? She’s carrying your child, isn’t she?”
Grant buried his face in her shoulder, his voice muffled.
“If I didn’t bet that her child would also have the same rare blood type, do you think I’d let someone as lowly as her carry my child?”
Star burst out laughing.
But standing outside, watching this play out, my heart shattered.
I’m pregnant, and they just forced me to donate eight hundred milliliters of blood; I almost fainted.
Grant didn’t even offer a word of concern.
Not even a glance.
It was a nurse who finally took pity on me and moved me to a nearby room.
Three years ago, Grant suddenly showered me with affection.
He paid off my father’s gambling debts.
He promised my mother, on her death anniversary, that he’d take care of me for life.
I truly believed I’d found my soulmate.
Now I see I was just a lamb to the slaughter.
2.
Only after he’d put Star to sleep did Grant remember my existence.
He left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.
He turned around to find me sitting on a bench in the hallway, watching him.
“Susan, what are you doing here?”
He calmly knelt beside me, taking my icy hand.
My eyelashes fluttered. “How’s Ms. Jones?” I asked casually.
The moment he mentioned her, his eyes softened.
“Star’s asleep. You, though, you look pale. Why don’t you go rest?”
I scoffed inwardly. He noticed I looked pale?
“I’m fine, Ms. Jones is more important.”
My sarcastic remark didn’t sit right with Grant; he thought I was jealous.
He pulled me up forcefully, pushing me towards the elevator.
“I’ll take care of Star. I’ll have the driver take you home.”
Tears blurred my vision, and I instinctively covered my belly.
Grant noticed my gesture but chose to ignore it.
My heart was a mangled mess of emotions, crushing me.
Back home, the coldness was immediate.
The huge house, just Grant and me, no one else.
I once jokingly asked him, “You’re the CEO of Caldwell Corp, and you don’t even have a housekeeper? No one will believe that.”
I’d just finished cleaning the entire house and was exhausted.
He was working, not looking up. “I don’t like strangers in the house. You’re my limit.”
I froze. The vacuum cleaner slipped from my hand, falling with a thud.
Grant realized he’d misspoken. “I mean, no housekeeper can be as efficient as my wife. Strangers would ruin our alone time.”
I was completely charmed by his words, thinking how important I was to him.
I ignored his dismissive gaze.
Now I realize how incredibly naive I was.
3.
I waited in the living room until late, but Grant never came home.
His phone on the coffee table remained dark.
The moonlight illuminated my desolate face.
I wiped away my tears, dragging my weakened body to the kitchen.
There’s a little blood bank in my belly, and I should have eaten, but Grant wouldn’t want “the blood bank” to go hungry.
I ate a bowl of bland noodles.
The moment I opened my phone, Star Jones’s latest post popped up.
To celebrate Star’s discharge, Grant took her to the most expensive restaurant in the city, the Imperial House.
The food alone cost more than my entire year’s salary.
The envy wasn’t just about the cost, but Grant’s attentive care.
It was a video shot by a third person.
In the video, Star was draped over Grant’s shoulder. Grant rolled up his sleeves, served her food, and fed it to her.
The tenderness, the pampering, was something his wife never received.
I laughed bitterly and closed my phone.
Darkness enveloped me once more.
I groped my way upstairs.
To Grant’s studio.
I thought of important dates relating to Star Jones and entered them into the combination lock.
On the second try, the door opened.
The scene inside made me chuckle.
The studio was Grant’s forbidden territory. I wasn’t allowed in.
I thought it held precious items.
It was thousands of portraits of Star Jones.
And the password? Star’s birthday.
I walked around the room.
Grant had known Star since she was in school. His early paintings were less skilled, unlike the lifelike portraits he now painted.
I examined every portrait before approaching his easel. Dozens of pink envelopes were stacked there.
I casually opened one; Grant’s passionate love leaped out.
His love was so intense, it brought tears to my eyes. Every word expressed his love for Star.
I collapsed, reading letter after letter.
Eventually, my tears dried up.
But my heart felt like it was ripped open, bleeding.
By the time I finished, the sun had risen.
I cleaned up, locked the door, and scheduled an abortion for a week later.
Once the child is gone, Grant and I are over.
4.
I hung up just as Grant walked in.
He looked tired. “Susan, who were you talking to?”
I rubbed my sore eyes. “You’re imagining things.”
Grant changed his shoes and embraced me.
“What’s wrong? Are you upset because I wasn’t here?”
“No,” I pushed him away, my voice calm.
Grant frowned but coaxed, “Don’t say that. I heard you call a doctor. Is something wrong with the baby?”
He placed his hand on my belly, bending down to speak to the child.
“Little one, are you bothering your mother? Let’s go to the hospital. You’re daddy’s little angel, nothing must happen to you.”
His feigned tenderness made me nauseous.
He wasn’t worried about me or the baby; he was afraid that if the baby didn’t survive, Star would lose her blood bank.
“No need. I’ll rest.”
I pulled away from his hand and went to the bedroom.
Grant watched me for a while, then left when he saw I wasn’t unwell.
He sat at the bedside and talked about prenatal care.
I listened with a smile.
If I didn’t know the truth, I’d have fallen for his charm.
When my breathing evened out, Grant left.
I stared at the ceiling.
Grant didn’t come in until lunchtime.
Seeing me still asleep, he kissed my lips.
“Sleepyhead, time for lunch.”
I frowned and followed him out.
I was hungry, but seeing Star in the dining room made me lose my appetite. I felt sick.
I turned to leave, but Grant grabbed my wrist.
“Susan, what’s wrong?”
He frowned, noticing my reaction to Star.
Before I could speak, Star greeted me cheerfully.
“Susan, eat up! To thank you for the blood donation, I ordered your favorite nutrition meals from the Imperial House.”
I pulled away, walking slowly towards the dining room.
I saw the spicy food and said, “Ms. Jones, you’re thoughtful. Knowing I can’t eat spicy food during pregnancy, you ordered Sichuan cuisine.”
Star’s face fell.
Grant hurried over to comfort her.
“Star, I’m sorry. I tried to cater to Susan’s preferences. As you know, I never eat spicy food.”
Star was crying. Grant had tears in his eyes too.
He soothed Star for a long time, and I watched them.
When Star stopped crying, Grant glared at me.
“Susan Miller, apologize!”
I clenched my fists. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t say anything wrong, why should I apologize?”
Star started crying again. Grant couldn’t stand his beloved being wronged again; he slapped me.
I stumbled backward, my back hitting the table, my ears ringing.
Grant simply said coldly, “Susan Miller, you brought this on yourself.”
Star looked at me triumphantly from Grant’s arms.
I was frozen.
Grant glared at me, picked Star up, and walked past me towards the door.
Three years of unrequited love evaporated.
5.
I haven’t been to the company since that day, and Grant hasn’t come home.
Only the HR manager called, formally informing me of a month’s salary deduction for unexcused absence.
I didn’t care. I wished Grant would just fire me.
But I knew, as long as I was useful to Star, he wouldn’t let me go.
I drifted through my days. Eating little, my baby finally started kicking.
I was in excruciating pain, almost unconscious, when Grant rushed in.
In a daze, I think I saw worry in his eyes.
I laughed bitterly; he wouldn’t care if I died.
I woke up the next morning in the hospital.
Grant was holding my IV tube.
I looked away, staring out the window.
“Susan, I didn’t take good care of you and the baby. You’re right to be angry.”
I didn’t respond, but tears fell.
Grant turned my face, kissing my tears.
“Star meant well that day, and you shouldn’t have upset her. She’s sensitive and can’t handle emotional distress. I’ve already apologized to both of you. Let’s forget about it, okay?”
His tone was gentle, something I’d never seen before.
But it was all for Star.
I smiled. “Okay.”
I’m leaving after the abortion, so what does it matter?
6.
Grant played the good husband for a while, then a call from Star took him away.
He lied, saying there was an emergency at the company.
But I knew he had a special ringtone for Star.
After he left, I opened my phone, and Star had a new post.
“Skipping work, on a date with my cold-hearted boss!”
The picture showed Star in the passenger seat, smiling at the camera.
I refreshed the page. A comment appeared.
“I can skip work every day if you want.”
Everyone knows the CEO of Caldwell Corp is a workaholic.
But no one knows that his every outing during work hours was to be with Star.
I liked the post.
A second later, I got a message from Star.
“Susan, you’re secretly following me! I’m borrowing your husband for a while, you won’t mind, right?”
She sent another message when I didn’t reply.
A screenshot of a hotel check-in. Tonight.
I replied, “No, go ahead.”
It was dark when my IV finished.
I slowly got out of bed to check out.
Star burst in.
“Susan, don’t do anything rash! It’s all my fault. I’ll stay away from Grant.”
I stared at the emotional Star. “What are you doing?”
Before I could finish, she grabbed my shirt.
“Susan Miller, since you don’t mind me borrowing your husband, do me a favor.”
Her eyes were dark. Before I could react, she cut her finger with a knife and collapsed dramatically.
I was stunned.
As Star screamed and cried, Grant ran in.
Seeing the blood, he kicked my belly.
“Susan Miller, you’re so vicious, why don’t you just die!”
My abdomen throbbed; I bled heavily.
Grant’s eyes widened. “You… you had a miscarriage…”
