Your Hate, My Farewell

Summary

For five years of marriage, Andrew Hayes had slept his way through half of Hollywood. I pretended not to see, commuting daily between the hospital and the film set. My mother’s leukemia demanded astronomical treatment costs, and Andrew held the reins of Hayes Enterprises’ medical resources.

Until that day, when the new starlet he was promoting “accidentally” severed my safety wire on set. I plummeted from a ten-foot platform. The three-month-old life within me stilled. My hand trembling, I dialed his number.

“Andrew, please, save our baby.”