He Betrayed Me, I Left with Our Little Girl

Chapter 2

Grace White's POV:

Arthur and I met back in college.

At the time, no one knew he was actually the heir to a wealthy family, and nobody thought he was serious about me.

He was a brilliant Kingsley College student, exceptionally handsome and sweet-tempered. The girls chasing him could have lined up from Alderidge to Harwich and looped around St. Clement's Isle three times.

As for me, I was just a student at a mediocre neighboring college, raised by a single mother who was gravely ill, leaving us deeply in debt.

To make ends meet, I worked four or five part-time jobs a day. One late winter night, having just finished my last shift, I was heading home when I spotted him unconscious at the entrance of an alley.

His head was slumped, and he lay sprawled on the ground, completely out cold, while a shady-looking man was trying to drag him away.

I let out a shout and lunged forward.

The man panicked and bolted. Ignoring him, I helped Arthur up, supporting his limp body as I hurried toward the hospital.

The hospital wasn't far, only about two miles away. But the ground was covered in a layer of frozen, slippery snow, which slowed my pace to a crawl. Braving the biting wind, I nearly slipped several times, but I held onto him with all my strength to keep him from falling.

Just as we got close, I tripped and fell hard onto the ice. My arm slammed against the frozen ground, but thankfully, I managed to keep Arthur safe. It wasn't until the doctors took over and looked at me with a frown that I realized, "Miss, you need to head over to the ER. You've got some nasty injuries yourself."

I instinctively wiped my face, only for my hand to come away covered in blood.

That was how Arthur and I met, and how we eventually fell in love.

After packing my things, I locked the door and headed downstairs, but my legs suddenly buckled on the stairwell, sending me crashing onto the landing.

It hurt so much.

Even more than my chest did.

I picked myself up and limped to the pharmacy near the neighborhood gate.

Before I could step inside, a familiar voice called out from behind.

"Grace!"

Arthur grabbed my arm, his tone laced with impatience. "Where are you going? Didn't I tell you I was coming home tonight?"

Home? He had just sold our home, and yet here he was, casually talking about going back to it?

I turned my head away. "Go home to where, exactly?"

"Grace!" Arthur snapped, but then hesitated. "You... what happened to you?"

I felt a familiar warmth trickling down my face. A nosebleed.

I shielded my face from his view. "I just tripped on my way downstairs."

Arthur seemed to buy it instantly. He let go of my arm. "Go buy some rubbing alcohol to clean yourself up then."

See? He didn't doubt me for a second.

I suddenly recalled the beginning of our relationship seven years ago. Back then, if Arthur saw even a tiny scratch on my hand, he would frown with concern and drag me back to our rented room to gently dab iodine on it. His eyes used to be so bright, like two clear, shining pools.

I looked up at him.

Arthur frowned. "What are you staring at?"

"Your eyes," I said softly.

Arthur instinctively averted his gaze. "That makes no sense. I'll go buy the rubbing alcohol. Clara! Come hold her up for a second!"

Clara?

The memory of the bright red banner from this morning's engagement party flashed in my mind.

Congratulations to the heir of Sterling Group, Mr. Arthur Miller, and...

"Hello, I'm Clara Clark," a hand extended into my line of sight. "Arthur's fiancée."