Chapter 7
Goodbye, Timothy
When Mia woke up, only a young nurse was by her bed.
Her forehead throbbed and her vision was blurry, but she ignored it all and asked at once, “How’s my baby?”
The young nurse, Hannah, gently took her hand and comforted her softly. “Don’t worry, miss. Your baby is safe.” She explained carefully, “You called us right after you were hurt. That quick action made all the difference. If the ambulance had come ten minutes later, the poor little one might not have made it. You just need to stay in the hospital for a while—you lost a lot of blood.”
Mia felt the warmth in her hand, and her racing heart eased a little.
Only a little, not completely.
Even though Hannah tried to reassure her, Mia could tell that although her baby’s life was saved, its health might still be affected. Now that her own body was weak enough to need hospital care, how could her child have escaped all harm?
Mia’s heart ached terribly—not for herself, but for her baby.
Under the covers, her hand pressed to her stomach, and tears fell silently.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Mommy should have protected you,” Mia apologized silently to her child, and promised, “From today on, I swear no one will ever hurt you again.”
Hannah couldn’t help but feel for Mia, seeing her in such pain. She whispered, “Where’s the father? Maybe you can give me his number, and I’ll call him for you.”
Mia could barely lift her hand, let alone make a phone call.
But she shook her head without hesitation. Her voice was weak but absolute. “My baby... doesn’t have a father. He’s dead.”
The moment Timothy had chosen to pick up Maya and leave her behind, he had died in her heart.
She thought to herself bitterly, “Timothy, from now on, there is nothing between us anymore.”
Hannah looked at Mia apologetically, but given her condition, she suggested that Mia ask a friend to come stay with her.
Mia asked her to call Gina. Then she used her last bit of energy to settle the medical bills and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.
When she woke up again, Gina was already sitting beside her bed.
Mia didn’t explain anything, and Gina understood her pain without asking.
Mia stayed in the hospital for five days.
During that period, Timothy did not call her once, nor send a single text. It was as if she had never existed in his world at all.
Well, that was how it should have been.
Mia looked at the photos Maya had sent her—every one showing Timothy taking gentle care of Maya.
He fed her beef soup. Knowing she cared about her figure and disliked meat, he patiently picked out every tiny piece of beef.
His handsome profile bathed in sunlight, so tender, so attentive, but none of that had ever belonged to Mia.
Another provocative text came from Maya. “Tim says you’re wicked. He won’t let you cook for me anymore. He’ll make whatever I want himself.”
Mia stared at the gloating words on the screen. At first, they seemed almost funny. But as she laughed, tears streamed down her face.
Right. She was the villain, the one who had wrecked Timothy and Maya’s perfect love.
She should never have been part of their world. What was there left to hold onto?
Her love for him had always been one-sided. From the very beginning.
Mia dried her last tear, put away her phone, and prepared to leave the hospital.
It felt almost ordinary—like any quiet afternoon on any ordinary day.
She mused bitterly, "It’s truly over between us, Timothy. You love her, so I’ll let you go. And I’ll find my way back to who I used to be—the confident, proud girl I once was, before all this.”
Mia completed her discharge, then returned home to pick up her already packed luggage.
She left the divorce agreement on the dresser in that tiny guest room. Then she picked up her suitcase and walked out without looking back.
Goodbye, Timothy.
Goodbye, her foolish past.
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