Gwh felt like she could die.


    She had heard plenty of melodramatic stories and read countless cliché novels, but to live through one herself was enough to make her break.


    "In that case," Gwh said, her voice sharp, "you should have him marry you. Without a proper marriage, any child you have will be illegitimate. How shameless do you have to be to announce it so proudly in public?"


    She turned and walked away, not bothering to look back at Patti, whose face was surely shifting between shades of red and white. Nurses and other patients were watching the spectacle, and someone nearby let out a small chuckle. Patti, enraged, snapped, "What are youughing at? What''s so funny?"


    Gwh clutched her report and left. As she walked out of the OB/GYN department and into the main hospital lobby, she saw a figure in the distance, picking up a prescription from the pharmacy window. It was Hawthorne.


    Her feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor. She couldn''t move.


    So Patti wasn''t lying. Hawthorne was really here. No wonder she''d been so arrogant.


    She watched as he started walking in her direction, undoubtedly heading back to find Patti. Gwh quickly ducked out of sight.


    Patti had seen her report. She didn''t know if that woman would run her mouth and tell Hawthorne everything.


    But she couldn''t worry about that now. She clutched her own report and fled the hospital.


    On the drive home, the tears she''d been holding back finally began to fall. She had told herself over and over not to grieve over Hawthorne, that their rtionship was just a facade. But the pain was sharp and visceral, twisting in her gut like a familiar cramp.


    If she hadn''t seen it with her own eyes, she might have been able to lie to herself. But the image of Hawthorne at the pharmacy was burned into her mind.


    Gwh didn''t even remember how she got home.


    She stumbled into her room in a daze and pulled out the ultrasound report, reading


    it again and again. Two gestational sacs. It was real.


    A divorce from Hawthorne was inevitable. If she kept the babies, they would grow up without a father If she terminated the pregnadey, she might be barren for life.


    She couldn''t sacrifice her entire future, but bringing two children into the world only


    to suffer seemed just as cruel.


    She was trapped in an impossible


    choice. Lost in her turmoil, the report slipped from her hand and fluttered under the bed. When she bent down to retrieve it, a dull ache spread through her abdomen. She decided to leave it. The report didn''t matter anymore; she already knew the truth But the question of what to do about the babies continued to tear her apart.


    She had assumed she wouldn''t see Hawthorne until that evening, but not long after


    she returned, he was back as well.


    "Gwyn, I know you''re in there. Open the door."


    Hawthorne''s voice made the flush on her cheeks turn to an icy white.


    "It''s unlocked," she called out.


    She was back in his house, in Greenvale. A confrontation was unavoidable, and there was no point in hiding. It was better to get everything out in the open.


    Hawthorne walked in and saw her standing in the room.


    "How was the trip?" he asked.


    They hadn''t seen each other in some time, and for a moment, Hawthorne seemed at a loss for words. Though he was naturally quiet and reserved, he always made an effort to find something to talk about with her. But faced with her cold expression now, all his cleverness seemed to desert him.