A Second Chance? No way!

Chapter 3 Fend for Herself

Orelia stood until her legs grew numb, under a darkening sky that soon unleashed a heavy rain.

She felt cold and exhausted, and just when she thought he'd be staying in the hospital all night, Kyle finally emerged.

Claud held an umbrella for him, his face partially obscured beneath it.

As she stepped out from behind a pillar, rain soaked her hair and neck.

Desperate, she called out, "Kyle, I need to talk to you! It's important!"

The driver parked at the foot of the steps, and Kyle paused, halfway into the car.

She hoped, just for a moment, that he would stop. But instead, he climbed in without a single glance back.

Kyle, meanwhile, was on a call, his face showing concern—a detail Orelia completely missed.

"Kyle!" She shouted frantically, "I really need to talk to you!"

Kyle frowned, shut the door, and instructed the driver, "Drive."

He had urgent matters to attend to and wasn't about to let her attempt to manipulate him with her usual tactics. Orelia should know her way back on her own.

"Kyle! Kyle, please stop! I'm begging you—stop!"

She chased the car, stumbling in the rain and falling, leaving her soaked from head to toe.

Her vision blurred with rain and tears, and the car grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

Returning to Silver Beach Estate, Orelia was exhausted, both physically and mentally. She didn't bother showering, only changed into dry clothes before collapsing into bed.

Early the next morning, someone knocked on her door.

She fought her body's aches and waited, only answering after the person outside rang the bell impatiently a few more times.

Kyle stood there in casual clothes, looking down at her with a sharp gaze and a hint of irritation in his narrowed eyes.

"Why didn't you answer the door?"

'Because I don't have the strength,' she thought silently but didn't explain.

Instead, she only shook her head.

Orelia knew by now that to him, any explanation from her would be seen as just an excuse.

When someone didn't care about you, even your breathing could seem like an offense.

Feeling miserable, she cut straight to the point. "Why are you here?"

After everything last night, when he'd ignored her pleas, why was he here now?

"Did you think I wanted to come?"

Kyle's contempt was barely concealed as he looked at her coldly. "Grandmother asked me to take you to the airport."

Kyle himself had mixed feelings. His elder brother lay in a hospital bed, a vegetative state from which he might never wake, and Sally had lost the only child tying them together because of Orelia.

For Kyle, having Orelia overseas would be better for everyone. He had no feelings for her; it was better to part ways and avoid the daily disdain they both felt.

Orelia's heart went cold, her last shred of hope dissolving into a bitter joke. Just a few minutes earlier, she had thought there might still be a chance. But Kyle's words made her persistence feel like nothing more than a cruel punchline.

"Where's your luggage? Upstairs?"

Impatiently, Kyle looked ready to be done with the entire ordeal. The longer he stayed, the more seeing Orelia felt like a torment to him.

Orelia nodded, then shook her head. "It's upstairs... but I haven't packed everything yet."

She'd meant to finish last night but had felt too unwell and had fallen asleep.

"What?" Kyle's irritation deepened. "Your bags aren't even packed? Such laziness. Perhaps being overseas is exactly what you need."

Maybe if she came back with a little maturity, their marriage could be bearable.

Seeing her blank expression, he snapped, "What are you just standing there for? Hurry up and pack!"

She struggled to her feet, feeling faint from the rain and possibly a fever. She barely managed a few steps before breaking into a cold sweat, her lips feeling as if they were on fire. Touching her forehead, she confirmed she had a fever.

Kyle waited downstairs as she put away her last few items, then opened the drawer to reach for cold medicine. She paused, though, remembering the doctor's words. She was pregnant.

Unsure whether the medicine was safe, she put it back.

Her stomach churned violently, and she rushed to the bathroom, retching until she was weak and leaning on the sink.

Footsteps approached, and soon, Kyle's figure filled the doorway.

"What are you doing?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"Answer me, Orelia!" His voice was slightly hoarse, carrying a hint of confusion and even concern.

Kyle's patience was fraying as he waited for Orelia.

He wanted to get her to the airport without further delay—time was running out.

"Coming," Orelia murmured as she splashed water on her face and emerged from the bathroom, her face pale, visibly unwell.

"Kyle Ludwig," she addressed him in a hushed tone, abandoning her usual affectionate address.

"Can we... Can I leave tomorrow instead?"

She felt the fever intensifying and worried that she might pass out mid-flight.

If something happened to her on the way, stranded and alone, she'd be helpless.

Kyle's expression shifted from impatience to frustration. "What game are you playing now?"

His tone was harsh, his eyes cold. "Yesterday, you wanted to appeal for Sally. Today, you're asking to delay your flight. What's your scheme this time?"

He added angrily, "You look half-dead, and you think putting on this act will make me believe you? Moving abroad is meant to help you. Everyone's hoping it will. Do you get that?"

To him, she was truly pathetic. She really was feeling unwell, but he couldn't see it.

Her stomach twisted, but she forced her voice steady. "It's not an act," she managed, looking into his unyielding eyes, trying hard to keep from crying.

"I just feel sick. I wanted to see a doctor first..."

"Enough!" Kyle interrupted sharply, his tone dripping with disappointment. "I clearly overestimated you. Just hurry up and don't make me wait."

He stepped closer, towering over her, his voice dropping as he looked down.

"If you're thinking you can stall your way out of this, you're truly foolish. I can reschedule your flight as many times as I need to—there's no way you're staying here."

Without waiting for her response, he strode into the closet, pulling out her half-packed suitcase.

"Forget whatever you haven't packed. Buy whatever you need when you get there—it's on my family's dime anyway. There's too much work waiting for me to waste my time here with you."

He was already on his way downstairs, hauling her suitcase.

Orelia bit down on her lip, her heart aching fiercely. Tears began to slide down her face, and she brushed them away, feeling both broken and abandoned.

Leaving or staying—what did it matter? Here or abroad, she was utterly alone.

No one cared about her suffering, her survival, her fate...