Dylan's clothes were damp, likely from standing outside the mansion all night, the dew seeping into his attire.

He gazed at her, his voice slow and incredulous. "I don't believe it. I can't believe you'd go through with the abortion. I've thought about it endlessly, but I just can't imagine you doing it. The baby is still with you, isn't it?"

“It's gone," Olivia reiterated calmly.

Noting Dylan's continued presence, she retrieved a piece of paper from her bag and handed it to him. "This is the agreement for the termination of the pregnancy. I've signed it, and they performed the surgery on me. Along with it is the post-operation report. If you doubt me, take a look."

The paper was light, but Dylan was too stunned to catch it.

It fluttered softly to the ground as the window of the black limousine closed, the car pulling away.

He remained frozen in place.

Olivia's words pierced his heart like a dagger, leaving him wounded.

A gust of wind carried the paper away, and after a moment, he retrieved it.

As he read the document, detailing the termination of a six-week pregnancy, his eyes lingered on Olivia's signature.

Attached was a blurry ultrasound image, a faint white dot indicating the presence of their unborn child.

With the paper clutched tightly in his hand, Dylan sank to his knees, tears welling in his eyes.

He finally accepted the harsh reality.

The baby was gone, and so was his relationship with Olivia.

Afterward, Dylan turned to alcohol as a coping mechanism.

Night after night, he drowned his sorrows in liquor, frequenting every bar in sight. Health concerns were the least of his worries.

He even entertained thoughts of death as a form of penance for his sins.

With his handsome appearance and wealth, numerous women approached him, but he rebuffed them all, finding solace in lashing out.

Yet, as he leaned against the railing, gazing up at the apartment he once shared with Olivia, his eyes welled with tears.

His facial muscles twitched, betraying his inner turmoil as he reached for the bottle once more, draining its contents in one gulp.

"Dylan!"

A soft voice pierced through his haze, and he turned to find Gina standing before him, her gaze filled with concern.

Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded, "Don't do this to yourself! Stop torturing yourself!"

Attempting to help him up, she was met with a pushback.