I Refuse to Die for His Regret / Chapter 3: Love’s Price and Autumn’s Stand
I Refuse to Die for His Regret

I Refuse to Die for His Regret

Author: Bryan Jacobs III

Chapter 3: Love’s Price and Autumn’s Stand

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When I opened my eyes again, the pain of death still clung to me. I vomited in the car, confused and shaking, and Ryan kicked me out.

"Autumn, it was my fault. That meeting was just too important. I couldn't be disturbed."

Ryan wearily took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But do you have to say something so harsh?"

Even when apologizing, Ryan's tone was always condescending.

He gave me a helpless look. "Dr. Wallace said it's fine to get a little wet in early pregnancy. Don't be so stubborn, okay?"

I met his gaze, my eyes distant now.

Not like before, when I looked at him as if he were up on a pedestal.

That torrential rain washed away the last of my blind devotion to Ryan.

Even now—hair and beard perfectly trimmed. Dressed in a Brooks Brothers cashmere sweater. Magazine-worthy. Rising star.

Even with his startup about to secure tens of millions in funding, his manners refined, his abilities impressive—

None of it was attractive anymore.

Seeing I was really upset, he tried to coax me. "Autumn, I closed the funding deal. You'll be the wife of a public company's CEO."

"We can move to a penthouse downtown."

Ryan leaned in, gently brushing my damp hair behind my ear, his voice low and commanding.

"Go take a hot shower. Once you're done, you'll stop overthinking."

He knew exactly how to handle me. "I love you, Autumn."

In the past, whenever he tossed me an "I love you," I would swallow every hardship gladly.

After all, in this story, Autumn's only purpose was to "be loved."

Before twenty-two, Autumn lived to be loved by her mother.

After twenty-two, she lived to be loved by Ryan.

Only after her death did she finally receive their regret and their love.

I relaxed my brow and smiled softly.

Seeing this, Ryan kissed my earlobe, satisfied. "Autumn, you're the best."

I turned my face away and walked off.

Not because I was good.

I just found it all too absurd, so I laughed.

—So Autumn's whole life was just to be loved after she was dead?

I refuse.

The next morning, I threw up again, so hard my nose and eyes were streaming.

The pain and nausea wracked my whole body, and I had to rest on the floor for half an hour before I could steady myself against the wall and get up.

I stuffed toast and a Snickers into my mouth—if I didn't eat something soon, I felt like I'd pass out.

Ryan rolled his suitcase out of the study.

His nose was straight, his features sharp, his hair and beard perfectly groomed.

He wore a light khaki linen suit, the kind that wrinkles easily, but it was pressed smooth and crisp.

I'd prepared it for him first thing yesterday morning.

Compared to my own wrinkled loungewear, I looked shabby.

As he buckled his watch, he said, "Autumn, the stock transfer and mortgage papers I asked you to sign—the secretary will come by for them today."

It was as if last night's rain and the talk of divorce had never happened.

Ryan always liked to smooth things over when they didn't suit him.

He bent down and took the chocolate from my hand.

His tone was resigned. "Autumn, you're not like Claire with her sharp features. Gaining weight won't look good on you."

"Cut the snacks in early pregnancy. Be responsible."

Take responsibility?

I hadn't eaten properly in three days.

The morning sickness hit fast. I'd been throwing up bile for three days. Before yesterday's checkup, I thought it was just a stomach bug.

My body was weak. I said softly, "Ryan, really, let's get a divorce."

He frowned. "Autumn, you really want to get divorced just because of last night's little incident in the rain?"

Then he gently brushed my hair, smiling brightly. "Be good. I'll be back from Portland soon, and I'll spend real time with you then, okay?"

Spend time with me. What a gift.

But I really didn't have the strength to argue with him.

Ryan grabbed the throat lozenges I'd bought just for him. "Claire's throat is acting up."

Watching him leave, so eager, I quickly stuffed three pieces of toast into my mouth.

My stomach ached so badly it felt like it was twisting.

When the food finally reached my stomach, I felt a raw, simple happiness—so satisfying it made me want to cry.

And I did cry—because I hadn't felt full in so long.

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