The Unborn Witness Chapter 1

I had just walked through the front door after a grueling five-day business trip when I noticed a shred of black lace peeking out from beneath the living room sofa.

I crouched down, hooked my toe around it, and dragged it out into the light.

It was a pair of black sheer stockings—shredded right down the seam.

A cold, suffocating weight dropped into the pit of my stomach. Every ounce of exhaustion from the red-eye flight rushed to my head, leaving me completely numb.

I looked at Gavin, sitting in his wheelchair by the window, and heard my own voice come out flat and dead: "I'm exhausted, Gavin. Let's break up."

Gavin froze for a split second. Then, without a flicker of emotion on his pale, handsome face, he gave a slow, measured nod. "Okay."

I turned on my heel toward the bedroom, ready to throw my life into a suitcase and vanish, when a tiny, high-pitched, bubbly voice exploded directly inside my skull:

[Mommy, don't go! Daddy didn't cheat on you! It’s all a trap set by that wicked tasker girl!]

[Daddy is going to recover soon! He’s destined to become a multi-billionaire tech titan! That scheming parasite wants to conquer Daddy and steal your life, so she framed him to make you leave on your own!]

[If you break up now, she’s going to stay by his side through his physical therapy and startup grind, and Daddy will spend the rest of his life pampering her while you get trafficked into some godforsaken backwoods and lose your mind!]

I whipped around so fast my neck cracked, tears instantly burning my eyes. "Gavin Hayes! Do you even have a conscience? How could you do this to me?!"

Gavin stared at me in sheer bewilderment. "What did I do?"

I let out a bitter, trembling laugh. "What did you do? Are you seriously going to play dumb?"

His brow furrowed deeper, genuine confusion washing over his sharp features. "Norah, I have no idea what you're talking about. Can you just speak plainly?"

I kicked the shredded black stockings straight across the hardwood floor until they landed at the base of his wheelchair. "Don't you dare try telling me those belong to me!"

Gavin stared down at the nylon bundle for a long, quiet moment. When he finally looked up, his jaw was tight with panic. "I didn't! Norah, I swear I have no idea how that got under the couch!"

"I literally just walked through the door from Chicago!" My voice rose, hot and defensive. "If you don't know how it got there, am I supposed to know?"

Gavin fell silent for two agonizing seconds. His expression hardened into something rigid and solemn. "Believe whatever you want, but I swear on my life, I have never done anything to betray you."

"Then explain this!" I demanded, crossing my arms. "Did a torn pair of lingerie just materialize out of thin air in our living room?"

There was no way I was going to back down and admit I overreacted.

Gavin’s mouth opened, then closed. He looked like a man drowning in dry air, desperate to defend himself yet having zero evidence to offer.

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. After a minute of this standoff, I figured the point had been made. I was just about to soften my tone and give him an out when Gavin suddenly looked away, his voice dropping into a flat, icy monotone.

"It doesn't matter where it came from. We're breaking up anyway."

He stared at his useless knees. "I've been a burden to you for an entire year. I have sixty thousand dollars left in my savings account. I’ll wire fifty thousand to yours tonight."

My heart seized. "You're breaking up with me?"

Gavin nodded once, barely perceptible. "Yeah. Let's end it."

My nose stung fiercely, tears blurring my vision. "Gavin Hayes, say that one more time if you have the guts!"

He turned his face entirely toward the wall, his tone clinical and detached. "Norah, you’re young, beautiful, and brilliant. You could easily find someone whole. There is zero reason for you to waste the best years of your youth taking care of a cripple."

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper, fighting back the sob rising in my throat. "And what if I don't want to leave?"

"Think about it carefully," he murmured.

Gripping his forearm crutches, he pushed himself up from the wheelchair with practiced, agonizing effort, dragged his deadened lower legs forward, and shut himself inside the study.

The moment the heavy wooden door clicked shut, the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face in hot, silent rivers.

[Oh no, we're doomed!] the little voice wailed inside my head. [Daddy thinks Mommy staged the whole thing just to find an excuse to leave without feeling guilty! His heart is totally broken!]

[If Mommy and Daddy split up, Mommy is definitely going to abort me! I waited in the reincarnation queue for decades just to get this slot! I don’t want to die!]

[Waaaahhhh... Mommy, please...]

The little boy cried and sniffled until his voice gradually faded into soft, sleepy breathing, as though the emotional outburst had exhausted his tiny soul.

I stood frozen in the quiet living room. Slowly, instinctively, my palm drifted down to rest against my completely flat lower belly.

"Don't worry, little guy," I whispered into the empty hallway. "Mommy isn't getting rid of you."