Chapter 11 Tristan instinctively avoided Hillary's eyes, his voice faltering. "Hillary, you're overthinking it. The one I've always loved is you." Hillary shot to her feet, her gaze icy and sharp. "I don't believe you! Unless you promise me- you'll punish that vile woman Meredith and give me and our baby justice!" "Hillary, calm down." Tristan stepped forward, reaching to hold her, but she shoved him away violently. 'Meredith's mental state hasn't been stable lately. If we push her too hard, I'm afraid something terrible might happen..." 'You're afraid something might happen to her?" Hillary gave a bitter, broken laugh, despair lickering in her eyes. What about me? Are you not afraid something might happen to me?" With that, she bolted toward the window. Her thin frame climbed onto the sill, swaying langerously. Come down! We can talk this through! I swear I don't love her. Just come down first-if you wan ne to punish her, I'll do it, I'll listen to you." Cold sweats trickled down Tristan's back. She looked like a different person entirely, and he hac 10 doubt she might actually jump. Hillary turned her head and sneered. Swear it." Vithout hesitation, Tristan raised his hand. "I swear-if I don't keep my word, may I live my life lone and abandoned, shunned by everyone I know!" Seeing her expression soften, he lunged forward, pulling her into his arms and carrying her back o the hospital bed. Only then did Hillary break down, sobbing into his chest. "Why didn't you tell me earlier... why did ou make me live in such fear..." Tristan stroked her back gently, his tone tender yet laced with a hint of hidden impatience. "It's ill my fault. From now on, I'll listen to you." They clung to each other tightly, but a wave of dread surged inside him-as if something rreversible was about to happen. Just then, his phone chimed in with a message. One glance, Tristan nearly dropped it. Mr. Tristan Palmer, your divorce cooling-off period with Ms. Meredith has officially ended today. Your marriage is now legally dissolved.] "No... impossible!" His eyes froze on the screen, wide with disbelief. "Tristan?" Hillary's frightened voice pulled him back, but without a word he stormed out of the ward. He called Meredith over and over, sent her countless WhatsApp messages-but every attempt came back with the same cold notification tones and gray exclamation marks. His hands trembled as he gripped the phone. He jumped in his car, driving frantically to every place she might be. First the hospital-but she wasn't there. Then he went to her old design studio-it was completely deserted. As he searched, memories he had long buried clawed their way back. She used to go every week to the little bookstore at the end of the street, always hunting for old volumes with shining eyes. He had gone with her once, only to grow bored and never return. When they moved, he complained the books were too heavy and burned them all in front of her. He could still remember her squatting silently by the ashes, tears streaming down her face. At community park-she walked there every evening, but he never once accompanied her. Instead, he strolled endlessly with Hillary through another upscale neighborhood. The noodle shop around the corner-when she was pregnant and had no appetite, she craved it constantly. At first, he reluctantly went along, but soon he grew tired of it and snapped, "I don' know how you can stomach such greasy food. Aren't you afraid it'll hurt the baby?" But in the end, the one who truly hurt the child was him. Each memory cut into him like a knife, peeling away the cold indifference he had wrapped himself in for years. For the first time, he realized-throughout their seven years together, all he had given Meredith was blame, disdain, and impatience. And now, in all the places she used to be, there was no trace of her at all. His hands trembled against the steering wheel. The truth finally sank in. Meredith was gone. And for the first time, Tristan was truly afraid. 2:52 pm