Bled Over the Boyfriend’s Car

When I had a threatened miscarriage, I bled all over the seat of Grant Sheridan’s car.

He glanced at the stain with visible disgust and immediately pushed me out of the car. “You couldn’t prepare for your period in advance? How unlucky,” he snapped.

But he assumed I was just on my period, got irritated, and left me on the roadside.

I was shivering, panicking, and unable to hail a cab in the pouring rain.

By the time I made it to the hospital, the doctor shook his head regretfully.

“If you had come sooner, we might have been able to save the baby.”

Back home, I walked into the study and found the approval documents for the overseas project in my inbox. I signed them without hesitation.

Later that night, just after I arrived home, he casually tossed a pair of lace panties at me.

“Samantha stained these during her period. Go wash them.”