No Spring Comes from A Cold Man

Damian’s hand froze.

He lowered his head and stared at the winding trail of blood between my legs.

In that moment, the rage on his face cracked apart piece by piece.

Shock.

Confusion.

Fear.

They cut through his expression one after another.

His fingers loosened.

I fell heavily to the floor, and the pain in my lower abdomen sharpened at once.

Damian, who had been cold to me for ten years, actually showed a flicker of panic when I groaned in pain.

“Vivian...?”

I looked up at him, and my mouth curved into a smile that tasted of blood.

“Surprised?”

“You had a child, Damian.”

As I smiled, my tears and blood mixed together and dripped onto my white dress.

“But I won’t give you this child.

“The way you looked at me just now, like you wanted me dead, made the decision for me.”

Damian’s throat worked violently.

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

At last, trembling, he came toward me and reached for my stomach.

“How is that possible?”

A sharp voice suddenly burst from the doorway.

At some point, Lily had appeared by the doorframe. She was wearing Damian’s white shirt, and the shock on her face quickly shifted into wounded grievance.

“Damian, she’s lying to you. You know your own condition better than anyone. How could she possibly...”

She covered her mouth.

Her eyes reddened, and she trembled as if she had been the one betrayed.

“Vivian, there’s really nothing between Damian and me. Why would you make up a lie like this just to get his attention? Aren’t you afraid he’ll be even more hurt when he finds out the truth?”

Damian’s pupils wavered.

He turned his head to look at me.

The flicker of emotion that had just appeared in his eyes was swallowed away, bit by bit.

In its place came the familiar coldness and a crushing disappointment.

“That’s right, Vivian. I already agreed to marry you.

“What more do you want? Now you’re inventing a child to trap me?”

All the blood in my body rushed to my head.

“If you don’t believe me, take me to the hospital and check.”

Slap.

His palm struck my face.

The force sent me sideways. My back hit the wedding dress rack, and the metal frame collapsed.

The white skirt fell over me like a wave, wrapping around my bloodstained body.

Damian looked down at me from above, as if he were staring at something filthy.

“Vivian, I don’t have time to indulge your insanity.

“Get up. Clean this place. The wedding goes on as planned.”

His eyes finally moved over the pool of blood beneath me.

There was no pain in them.

No hesitation.

Only disgust.

As if he had stepped in something dirty, he frowned slightly and turned away.

The door closed.

I lay on the floor and watched the blood seep, little by little, through the white wedding dress.

Like a red flower slowly blooming.

I didn’t know how long it took before I finally got up.

I dragged my suitcase over, opened the door, and walked out step by step.

Behind me, the hallway was marked with my footprints.

One after another.

Bright red.

The road late at night was empty.

I couldn’t even get a cab.

Shivering, I took out my phone and dialed Ethan’s number.

The moment the call connected, violent pain exploded in my lower abdomen.

It wasn’t a sharp stab.

It wasn’t a cramp.

It felt like two tiny hands clawing desperately inside me, gripping with all their strength.

As if the baby in my womb knew it was leaving and was fighting one last time to stay.

The phone slipped from my fingers.

I dropped to my knees on the cold asphalt, and darkness swallowed me whole.

...

When I woke again, I was already in the hospital.

Ethan was sitting beside my bed.

He said nothing. He only handed me a report.

On it was a blurry ultrasound image.

A tiny shape curled there, no bigger than a seed that had only just begun to sprout.

“The baby is gone.”

Ethan’s voice was hoarse enough to hurt.

“By the time they brought you in, there was nothing the doctors could do. This is... the last image.”

I held that piece of paper, my fingertips shaking uncontrollably.

At that moment, my phone rang.

Evelyn’s name lit up the screen.

“Vivian, sweetheart, congratulations. Today is finally the wedding. Are you nervous? I flew back from overseas just for this...”

I opened my mouth.

All my emotions broke loose in that instant.

“Eve... Evelyn...”

A sob tore out of me, raw and soaked in blood.

But before I could finish, another call forced its way in.

Damian.

“Vivian. The wedding team is waiting for you. Where the hell are you?

“Don’t think throwing a tantrum will make me...”

I hung up.

Then I wiped my tears away with hatred and looked at Ethan.

“I’m not leaving. Take me to the wedding venue.”

Ethan shot to his feet and stared at me in disbelief.

I didn’t explain.

I looked down and sent Evelyn a message.

Then I got up and took the wedding dress, still soaked through with blood.

...

The wedding venue glittered beneath crystal chandeliers.

Damian’s friends were gathered around Lily, teasing her.

“Oh, come on. Your Damian is getting married, and you’re crying like you’re the bride.”

“She’s heartbroken, obviously. But even if he gets married, so what? It’s just an old promise his family made. It’s not like there are real feelings involved.”

Amid the laughter, Damian adjusted his cuff links without expression.

Suddenly, a staff member rushed in, his face twisted with something close to panic.

“Mr. Grant... the bride is here.”

Damian frowned, glanced at him, set down his glass, and strode out.

Then he stopped.

Because in the center of the hall, I was standing barefoot on the stage, wearing the wedding dress soaked in blood.

The red and white skirt trailed behind me like a river of blood.

When I saw Damian appear, I smiled.

Behind me, the giant screen lit up.

The first photo showed the private room at the club. Damian had his arm around Lily, red wine catching the intimacy on their faces.

The second showed the living room at home. Lily was clinging to him while he lowered his eyes to her, his expression full of tenderness.

The third was the pregnancy report.

[Embryonic arrest and miscarriage caused by physical violence.]

In an instant, the entire room erupted in gasps and shocked cries.

Guests turned one after another to look at Damian.

But I saw only one person.

In the first row, in the seat of honor, Evelyn slowly rose to her feet.

She was the head of the Grant family, the woman who controlled the board, the family trust, and every door Damian had ever walked through.

The prayer beads she had carried for years, the ones she held whenever she prayed for a child, suddenly snapped with a sharp crack.