He Gave Our Bedroom to Her... So I Disappeared

Chapter 5

["Daniela has a prenatal check-up tomorrow at 10 a.m. Come with her—and get your lungs checked too."]

I didn't reply.

Instead, I yanked out the SIM card and powered off my phone.

"Michael—from this moment on, we're done. You and I will never see each other again."

The next day, at the hospital—

"Michael, is our baby okay?" Daniela asked, her voice tight with worry.

Seeing the anxious look in her eyes, Michael immediately wrapped her in his arms and murmured softly, "The doctor said everything's fine. The baby's perfectly healthy—no signs of stress or trauma from yesterday."

Daniela let out a shaky breath. "Thank God…"

"I've been watching you since we got here," she added, her voice trembling. "You've been so serious and quiet. I was scared something was wrong with the baby."

Her innocent words made Michael pause.

Unbidden, a memory rose in his mind—Ashlyn, standing across from him in the middle of a burning room, eyes cold, distant, unreadable.

Frowning, he opened his inbox again.

Still nothing.

Not a single word from her.

That silence gnawed at him. No—it pissed him off.

After everything—after all the times he'd brushed her aside, shut her down—Ashlyn always came back. Always picked up the phone. Always gave in.

But now? Now she had the audacity to ignore him?

He let out a dry, bitter laugh.

He finished walking Daniela out of the OB-GYN wing, took her to lunch, saw her safely home—and only then drove to the office.

As soon as he stepped inside, his assistant approached him.

"Sir, Old Master Hudson's back in the country. He's called an emergency meeting with all upper management. Conference Room One."

Michael gave a slight nod, then turned and headed down the hall.

"Also," he added casually, "buy a few of the latest designer handbags and some trendy jewelry."

The assistant perked up. "Absolutely, Mr. Hudson. I'll have them sent to Miss Daniela's place right away."

Michael stopped walking. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Send them to the Roberts family's estate."

In his mind, after leaving the villa, Ashlyn had nowhere else to go—only her old family home.

One week later, late at night—

After wrapping up a major project, Michael finally returned home.

He stepped into the living room and spotted a familiar figure curled up on the couch, wrapped in a silk nightgown like a little shrimp.

"Ashlyn, how many times have I told you—when I'm done working, I'll come back. You don't need to—"

His voice trailed off as he got closer.

It wasn't Ashlyn.

It was Daniela.

The sarcasm instantly drained from his voice.

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Michael… Ashlyn hasn't come back for days."

"I've sent her so many messages—apologies, everything. She hasn't replied once."

"Maybe… maybe I should just move out?"

Seeing her on the verge of tears again, Michael sighed and pulled her gently into his arms.

He pressed a light kiss to her forehead—empty, mechanical. "Don't overthink it. Just take care of yourself."

"Like it or not, this is your home now. Yours and the baby's."

Half an hour later, Michael stood alone on the balcony, wrapped in a silk robe, a lit cigarette between his fingers.

He hadn't smoked in years.

But tonight, he needed it.

On impulse, he opened his contacts and scrolled all the way down to the bottom—Ashlyn's number.

His thumb hovered over the call button.

He smoked two cigarettes… but never dialed.

Instead, he sent a message:

[Ashlyn, tomorrow's Grandpa's 80th birthday. Don't try anything stupid. Don't cause trouble for Daniela or the baby.]

11:39 a.m.

The next day—Arnold Hudson's 80th birthday celebration—

Michael arrived at the grand event, hand in hand with Daniela. They looked picture-perfect: confident, affectionate, like a golden couple.

They stayed side by side until the man of the hour, Arnold Hudson, made his entrance.

Only then did Michael let go of Daniela's hand to greet his grandfather and help him welcome the guests.

"Where's Ashlyn?" Arnold asked, his tone sharp.

Michael's lips tightened, but he answered calmly.

"She's been busy with your birthday gift, Grandpa. She's exhausted, so I told her to rest and come a little later."

Two hours passed.

Still, no sign of Ashlyn.

A sense of unease crept up Michael's spine.

Stepping away from the crowd, he pulled out his phone and dialed her number.

"The number you dialed is unavailable…"

He tried again. And again. And again.

Same message.

And then, a courier entered the banquet hall.

He carried three packages.

All from Ashlyn.

Under the curious eyes of the crowd, Arnold smiled warmly as he opened the first box.

Inside was a beautifully embroidered silk tapestry—The Hundred Deities Blessing Scroll, stitched with exquisite precision and deep care. Clearly something Ashlyn had spent months creating.

Arnold's eyes misted.

Then he opened the second box.

Inside was the Hudson family heirloom jewelry set—the one his wife had given Ashlyn when she married into the family.

Gasps echoed across the room.

Everyone in the upper circles knew what it meant when a woman returned her in-laws' ancestral jewelry.

Before Arnold could say a word, Michael—face like thunder—marched to the third box and tore it open with shaking hands.