The Call That Ruined Us

The day Andrew Lawson told me he was bankrupt, I received a phone call from the future. "I’m Andrew Lawson’s son." My heart leaped with joy. For one foolish, wonderful second, I thought he meant our child. Then the boy laughed coldly. "Don’t be stupid. You don’t even have a uterus. How could you possibly give birth to me? I’m the only child of Andrew Lawson and Megan Brooks, the sole heir to the Lawson family fortune. And you? You’re nothing." My eyes widened. I instinctively shook my head. "No. That’s impossible. Andrew would never cheat on me. Not even if he were dying." And I believed it. When an earthquake nearly killed me, Andrew had risked his own life to save mine. Falling debris had struck him so hard he’d coughed up blood, but he’d refused to let go of me. Later, when complications from my injuries left me on the brink of shock, he’d given me a transfusion using blood that could have cost him his own life. He loved me. I had built my entire understanding of the world around that certainty. He couldn't possibly be unfaithful. The boy on the other end of the phone burst out laughing. "You really are an idiot. Here, let me show you what you look like now. Enjoying your stay at the psychiatric hospital?" The screen changed. And there I was. Ten years older. Nothing but skin and bones, my hair tangled, my eyes vacant. I looked like a woman who had long ago lost her grip on reality. My stomach dropped. The boy wasn't finished. "The day my dad told you he was bankrupt, he said he couldn't afford to raise a child. He tricked you into having an abortion. After that, you could never have children again. Then my mom and I moved right into your house, out in the open. All you could do was sit there and watch the three of us play happy family." He sounded almost proud. "My dad loves my mom so much. All she has to do is turn on a few feminine charms, and he won't even listen to your side of the story. He'll send you straight to the Briarwood psychiatric facility, where you'll spend the rest of your life locked away. He won't even visit you once." Then he paused. "Oh, and there's one more thing you should know." My hand trembled as I tapped the speakerphone button. "The man you're talking to right now is Andrew Lawson, ten years from your future. Tell me, if he gets another chance, do you think he'll choose you this time?" … The static suddenly grew louder. His voice broke apart into fragments. Then came a single beep. Silence. The moment I understood what I'd just heard, I shot to my feet and ran downstairs. I didn't stop until I saw Andrew in the kitchen. He'd gone down to make me some soup. "Why are you down here without a coat? You'll catch a cold." He hurriedly set down the mug in his hands, took off his jacket, and draped it over my shoulders. His voice carried the familiar note of affectionate reproach I'd heard a thousand times. As though the man on the phone had nothing to do with him. I wiped away my tears and forced a smile. "I was just checking on the soup. I'm thirsty." He affectionately tapped the tip of my nose. "Almost ready, sweetheart." My gaze wandered across the kitchen. Then I noticed a container of chicken soup sitting in the corner, already packed up. My stomach tightened. "Isn't that soup right there?" Before I could say anything else, Andrew scooped me into his arms and carried me toward our bedroom. "That batch burned. I'll throw it out in a minute. You need to get back into bed. You're pregnant. You can't be getting chilled." I went rigid. Andrew stopped moving, too. "I never told you I was pregnant." For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Finally, he gave an awkward little laugh. "What can you possibly hide from me? I saw the test results you tucked away in the drawer. Now, back to bed. Stop acting like your health doesn't matter." He carried me the rest of the way, settled me carefully beneath the covers, and tucked the blanket around my shoulders. As usual, Andrew leaned down to kiss me goodnight. But this time, I instinctively turned my face away. His brows drew together for a moment. Then he checked his watch and let it go. "There's nothing in the house you'll actually want to eat. I'll run out and get something. Ten minutes, tops. If you're tired, go to sleep." The door slammed shut behind him. Only then did I notice that one side of my pillow was soaked with tears. I'd been so distracted by the phone call that I hadn't had time to put my pregnancy test results away. He really was the Andrew Lawson from ten years in the future. My legs carried me downstairs before I could think better of it. I needed to see where he was going and what he was doing. But the moment I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard a woman's syrupy voice. "Andrew, when can the baby and I come home? He says he misses his daddy so much. He wants to see you every single day, don't you, sweetheart?" A child's voice followed, soft and childish. I froze. It sounded almost exactly like the boy from the phone call. Andrew strode toward the front door without noticing me behind him. He chuckled fondly. "You were so much cuter when you were little. Now that you're growing up, you're becoming a real handful." He laughed. Then his hand stopped on the doorknob. Slowly, he turned around. "How long have you been standing there?" Something in his eyes changed. The warmth vanished, replaced by a coldness I'd never seen directed at me before. I thought of the skeletal woman I'd seen on the screen. And then I realized that the man who had once been willing to die for me really had betrayed me. My knees buckled. I fell down the stairs. "Ah!" The world spun violently. I forced my eyes open through the pain. Blood covered my hands. Andrew stared at me for two seconds before letting out a weary sigh. "Looks like we wouldn't have been able to save this baby anyway, even if we hadn't done anything. Claire, I owe you." Then the world went dark. Andrew scooped me up and rushed me straight to the hospital. Through the haze, I could still hear the woman's voice. "Andrew, I was just sitting in the car. What if she saw me and started making a scene?" He chuckled softly. "She passed out. The hospital is on the way, so I'll drop her off. You'd better drink your chicken soup while it's still warm. You've got to take care of yourself. Having the baby took a lot out of you. If you don't recover properly, you'll end up with headaches and back pain for the rest of your life. I can't stand the thought of you suffering." They spoke to each other like an old married couple. Like two people who had built a life together, shared their worries, and learned the smallest details of each other's needs. Andrew and I had never talked like that. I don't know how much time passed before I opened my eyes again. Andrew stood beside my hospital bed, his eyes bloodshot. "Baby, we lost our child. I'm sorry." The anesthetic hadn't worn off. I couldn't even find the strength to open my mouth. He suddenly dropped to his knees beside me. "I made the decision for you. The doctors said they had to remove your uterus, and I agreed. You know your life matters more than anything! I don't care whether we have children. I love you for you." My mouth tasted bitter. A single tear slipped from the corner of my eye. He knew what this baby meant to me. I'd been born with a frail constitution, and I'd always struggled with fertility. In the three years we'd been married, I'd swallowed countless medications and endured more injections than I could remember. I'd fought so hard for the chance to become a mother. But neither the man Andrew had been nor the man he'd become had ever truly valued what I'd sacrificed. He hadn't valued the nights I'd driven through torrential rain at three in the morning to pick him up from business dinners. He hadn't valued the three months I'd spent calling in favors and begging people for introductions so I could secure financing for his company and help him win over his clients. And he certainly hadn't valued what I'd done today, when I'd learned he was bankrupt and spent an entire day kneeling before my own family, begging them to lend me ten million dollars to help him. In the end, all of it had been a joke. Andrew took my hand. I didn't have the strength to pull it away. "Don't worry. I've already hired a professional caregiver for you. You'll recover in no time. And once you're feeling better, I'll take you to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. I know how much you've always wanted to go." His words brought back a conversation I'd overheard the night before. I finally understood the answer to the boy's question. Even if Andrew had the chance to choose again, he still wouldn't choose me. I let out a quiet sigh. Something inside me finally settled. Andrew mistook my silence for anger, but this time, he didn't try to comfort me. Of course not. The Andrew Lawson from ten years in the future had everything he'd ever wanted. He no longer had the patience to soothe a woman's hurt feelings. "Get some rest. I'll warm up your chicken soup." My eyes drifted toward the bowl on the corner of the table. It was only half full. He couldn't even be bothered to pretend anymore. He was giving me soup someone else had already drunk. I gathered every ounce of strength I had and forced out two words. "Get out." Andrew stood in front of me, unable to meet my eyes. "Fine. I know you're angry. I'll come back when you've calmed down. I spent a long time making that soup, so please drink it. I'll have someone bring it in later." Then he walked out. As consciousness began to slip away again, images surfaced in my mind—memories I had never lived through. "Andrew Lawson! It's either her or me. Choose!" The entire house lay in ruins. Broken furniture and shattered glass covered the floor. A woman clutched a child to her chest, sobbing, while I stood before them like a madwoman, hurling whatever I could find in their direction. Then— Smack! In an instant, I became the woman I'd seen on the phone screen ten years in the future. The slap landed across my face with a sharp, burning sting. "If you're fucking crazy, go get help! You can't have children, and you expect me to spend the rest of my life suffering right alongside you?" The man standing before me looked like a stranger. I cried as I stared at him. "You promised me that if you ever cheated, you'd die before you let me find out." His laugh was cruel enough to cut. "Are you stupid? That's the kind of thing you say to make a three-year-old believe in fairy tales. I love you, sure. But not enough to die for you. Not enough to give up the rest of my life and every chance at happiness. I want someone to inherit my fortune when I'm old. I want children around me when I'm dying." Pain spread through my chest until it felt as though my heart were being crushed. The world spun again. This time, I was in the psychiatric facility. Someone shoved me to the floor. Pain shot through my body. "I didn't push him!" Andrew stood over me with his fists clenched, fury etched between his brows. "He's a little kid! Are you seriously accusing him of lying? How did I never realize you were this cruel? You can't even stand to have a child around you!" "I already agreed to set them up somewhere else. I promised I wouldn't divorce you. What more do you want? Do you have to destroy their lives? Do you have to see them dead before you'll be satisfied?" I looked at him. And finally, I understood. Nothing I said would ever make him believe me. After a long silence, he threw a hospital gown at my feet. "Stay here and get yourself well. You're not leaving without my permission, and you're not going anywhere near them." As the door began to close, the instinct to survive overwhelmed every last shred of pride I had left. I dropped to my knees and begged. "I know I was wrong! I'll divorce you. I won't chase after you anymore. Just let me go!" Andrew looked down at me with an expression so cold it barely seemed human. "You're sorry now? Too late. Don't worry. You'll be fine here." I clung desperately to his leg, refusing to let go. But he shook me off without hesitation. The door slammed shut. Its edges seemed to twist and blur, and suddenly my entire life began flashing before my eyes. Our wedding. His betrayal. My confinement. And finally, my death on a cold operating table. The last image was of Andrew in his old age. He stood alone before my grave, tears streaming down his weathered face. "I was wrong. I really was wrong. I'm sorry. I never should have done this to you." Perhaps he'd finally discovered the truth. Perhaps he regretted everything. It didn't matter anymore. When I woke from the dream, the other woman was standing beside my bed, holding her child. She suddenly dropped to her knees. "Please. I'm begging you. Let us go. Raising a child alone is so hard. I don't know how I'm supposed to do it by myself!" Only then did I get a proper look at her. She had the delicate, fragile beauty of a flower on the verge of wilting. The child cried in her arms. I watched them silently for several seconds before answering. "Fine." She looked utterly bewildered. Clearly, she'd expected a fight. I picked up my phone and sent my mother a message. Andrew cheated on me. He had my uterus removed without my consent. I remembered what had happened in the dream. The woman I'd seen in my future had refused to give in. In response, Megan had dug her nails into the child, hurting him just enough to make him scream. That had been the beginning of Andrew's revenge. This time, I would give them what they wanted. The woman lowered her head. The child suddenly burst into tears, and Andrew came rushing through the door. The scene felt horribly familiar. "Whatever you want to do, do it to me! Leave them alone!" I remembered the tears on his face in my dream and almost laughed. "Andrew, I'll let you go. Now you need to let me go, too." He froze, unable to believe what he'd heard. "What did you say?" "I said I want a divorce." I looked directly at him. There was nothing left in my eyes but disappointment. Andrew shook his head and laughed. "You're delirious. You weren't saying that before." Then something seemed to occur to him. His expression changed as he cautiously asked, "What did you see?" I had no patience for his games. "She told me everything. So tell me, Andrew, are you going to admit what you've done, or are you planning to abandon them, too?" "Of course not!" He rushed to defend himself. I gave him a bitter smile. "Fine." Andrew looked at my pale face, and for a moment, he seemed almost sorry for me. Then the child cried out for his daddy. Andrew immediately crouched down to comfort him. "Don't cry, buddy. Daddy's right here." The gesture came so naturally, so effortlessly, that it was obvious he'd done it thousands of times. I turned my face away. I couldn't bear to watch. After a while, the crying stopped. I helped the woman and her child to their feet and sighed. "As long as you don't make their lives difficult, I'll do whatever you want." Andrew sounded as though he'd barely registered my demand for a divorce. To him, this was just another ordinary tantrum. Give me a little sweetness, wait for me to calm down, and everything would go back to normal. I said nothing. My chest felt painfully tight. His expression gradually hardened. He pulled the woman and child closer to him. "Our problems have nothing to do with the child. He's innocent. Whatever happens between us, you are not to lay a hand on him. That's my line in the sand." The words were painfully familiar. He'd said almost exactly the same thing when we got married. That's my line in the sand. Back then, he'd drawn that line to protect me. Now his illegitimate son was his line in the sand. His mistress was his line in the sand. And I had been pushed so far out of his life that I might as well never have existed. "Do you really think I'd push him or hurt him?" The Andrew from ten years in the future said nothing. He simply stood there, staring at me with a cold expression. Sometimes, the most devastating conversations happen without a single word being spoken. Ten years had passed, and he still didn't trust me. "Fine. Get out." Perhaps I was simply too disappointed to feel anything else. My voice was calm, and I no longer wanted to waste another word on him. Andrew didn't care. After all, in his version of our future, I hadn't begged him to let me go until the very end. Before that, I'd loved him more than I'd ever loved myself. Why would he take my anger seriously now? He led the woman and child away, never sparing me another glance. My phone lit up. I've arranged for them to live somewhere else. They won't come back to see you. I'll do everything you've asked me to do. Another message followed. Baby, what happened with Megan was an accident. I never expected it, either. By the time I found out, she'd already secretly given birth. I know I hurt you, but don't be so petty about it. You're still Mrs. Lawson. Nothing can change that. It was as though he were saying that in my previous life, Megan had been Mrs. Lawson, and in this one, I still held the title. See? Fair is fair. I didn't reply. I blocked him and deleted his number. When disappointment reaches its absolute limit, you stop wanting anything from the person who caused it—not even an explanation. Then a message arrived from my mother. I'm back in the country. I've brought our lawyer with me. Wait for us. For the first time that day, I felt a little relief. Our company's lawyer was someone I trusted. The next morning, someone shook me awake. "Where did you take Megan's little boy? I knew you hadn't changed!" My head was spinning. As my vision cleared, Andrew's face came into focus. There was a streak of gray at his temples, and his eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed my throat. He wasn't squeezing hard enough to choke me outright, but the humiliation was unbearable. "You pushed that boy down the stairs years ago and broke his leg. Now you've arranged to have him kidnapped! Claire, what the hell is wrong with you? How can anyone be this cruel?" As he spoke, tears fell from his eyes onto my face. "I should never have expected you to change. I should have left you at Briarwood for the rest of your life. I should never have softened enough to visit you!" Oh, so he'd secretly visited me while I was locked away. He'd stood beside my bed and said all those heartfelt things. I laughed until tears filled my eyes. Andrew's jaw tightened so hard I thought his teeth might crack. "You still refuse to admit what you've done! Tell me where he is!" "I don't know." His grip suddenly tightened. Air stopped reaching my lungs. "Claire, tell me where he is, and we'll be even. I won't blame you anymore. I'll finally be able to forgive myself, too." His eyes were bloodshot. He looked almost repentant. Just as I began to suffocate, the door burst open. "Andrew Lawson!"