Lyra’s skin.
Caspian scanned the people around them. It was easy to distinguish the couples getting married from those getting divorced. A couple walked past, hand in hand. The woman’s smile reminded him of the look on Lyra’s face a year ago, on their wedding day.
He glanced at Lyra, but her expression was unreadable.
“I’ll keep transferring money to your account for the next six months,” he said. “And don’t say anything to my grandparents.”
He didn’t wait for her reply before turning and walking away.
Lyra stood quietly, watching his car disappear around the corner. Her cab arrived moments later. The two vehicles headed in opposite directions.
One turned toward Isolde Finch Floral Design.
The other drove toward St. Jude’s Medical Center.
Caspian walked into Isolde’s studio, where she greeted him with a soft smile. He told her, “It’s done. She didn’t make a scene.”
Meanwhile, Lyra entered the obstetrics wing and sat down across from the doctor.
The doctor reached over and pulled the curtain closed.
“Lyra… are you sure you want to terminate the pregnancy?” Her best friend and doctor, Zara Ali, looked at her with deep concern. “You wanted a baby so badly. You worked so hard to prepare your body for conception…”
Lyra reached into her bag and placed the divorce filing receipt on the small table.
“Yes,” she replied calmly. “Let’s terminate it. I don’t want it anymore.”
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