Part 1The Punishment for Being Late

During the typhoon, my wife’s childhood friend called, claiming she was having miscarriage symptoms and demanding I rush to his private club.

I was still groggy from an emergency appendectomy, so my father-in-law answered the phone.

He grabbed the family’s heirloom medical kit and raced into the storm to save the child—but died in a horrific highway pile-up.

By the time his body was brought to the hospital, it was too late. Nothing could be done.

"Mike, you have to save Olivia's baby… If she loses it… she’ll never be a mother again…"

Even in his final moments, my father-in-law only thought of the child in her womb. He died with his eyes wide open, unpeaceful.

Grief-stricken, I took the kit and rushed to the club—only to find Olivia and her friend Mason arm-in-arm, toasting.

"Well, Liv," Mason drawled, smirking. "Looks like your husband doesn’t love you that much. What’s your bet-losing punishment?"

Olivia, flushed with wine, draped herself over him playfully.

"Don’t worry," she purred. "He’d crawl through hell for me—even if it rained knives!"

Shock and rage washed over me. I stormed forward and grabbed her arm.

"I thought you were miscarrying! How can you drink?"

Olivia’s face turned icy. She splashed red wine in my face.

"Wishing a miscarriage on me? Disgusting! Can’t you see we’re just playing a game?"

She kissed Mason, then glanced back at me.

"And that," she said, "is your punishment for being late."

* * *

Fury tore through my chest.

"Olivia, you're playing games with our unborn child's life?" I choked out. "Your father was worried sick about you. He was in an accident on his way here!"

I couldn't bring myself to tell her he was dead, terrified of what the shock might do to her.

Olivia snatched the medical kit from my hands, her voice sharp.

"It's Mason's birthday. We're celebrating. You didn't even bring a gift, and you show up clutching my dad's emergency kit? What are you doing, bringing your bad luck here?" she snapped. "Look at you, a complete mess. You call yourself a man?"

My eyes burned, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides.

"You need to come to the hospital with me. Something's happened to your father."

Mason, enjoying the drama, chimed in with a lazy smirk.

"What's with that look? Like you're about to explode. You don't like what she said? You going to hit her?" he taunted. "She's just celebrating my birthday. You have to curse your own kid and your father-in-law over it?"

The contempt in his eyes was naked.

I knew he was provoking me, trying to make Olivia angry so I'd be humiliated in front of everyone.

In the past, to keep the peace, I would have bowed my head and apologized like a pathetic dog.

But my father-in-law's last words were still echoing in my head.

She can never be a mother again.

For a woman, losing the ability to have children is a uniquely cruel fate. This wasn't the time for me to play the clown for their amusement. I just needed to make sure Olivia and the baby were okay, and then get her to the hospital to see her father one last time.

"Olivia, come with me to the hospital. To see your dad!"

It was the first time I hadn't groveled before her in public. The onlookers smirked, waiting for the show.

As expected, Olivia’s red lips parted, and the venom poured out.

"Stop using my dad as an excuse for everything! We were playing a game. Is that a big enough deal for you to start wishing death on him?" she sneered. "You were too pathetic to show up on time, so I lost the game and had to take the punishment. Instead of apologizing, you come here and ruin Mason's birthday party. For a grown man, you're incredibly petty."

The room erupted in laughter.

"Look at you, you pathetic loser. You don't deserve a woman like Olivia."

"She's a saint for not only marrying you but agreeing to have your baby!"

"If I were married to Olivia, I'd worship her. If she told me to die, I wouldn't hesitate for a second!"

"You're just some poor kid who married up, Mike. Who gave you the nerve to piss her off today? You're playing with fire!"

I'd heard the same insults for two years. I could recite them by heart.

Ignoring them, I reached for Olivia's wrist, wanting to check her pulse. If it was steady, a dark part of me wanted to tell her, right then and there, that her father was dead.

And that it was her fault.

Seeing me reach for her, Mason slapped my hand away with disgust.

"You really think just because she's pregnant, she's yours for good? Let me tell you something, she's a modern woman, not some property you own!"

Mason always knew exactly which buttons to push.

Her face flushed with anger. A second later, her palm cracked across my cheek.

"Get off me!" she shrieked. "You think you're worthy of touching me?"

She wiped the hand that had struck me on her dress, as if she'd just touched something filthy.

Mason laughed. "Since you're clearly not here to celebrate, how about you get the hell out? And I mean crawl."

The memory of a time she'd actually forced me to crawl out of a party flooded back, a humiliating fire that burned away the last of my sanity.

My fist, clenched tight, shot out and connected with Mason's mocking face.

"You son of a bitch," I roared. "You can play any game you want, but you don't joke with people's lives! You killed my father-in-law! I'll turn your birthday into your death day!"