Chapter 2

The blizzard had finally stopped.

I sat by the fireplace, wrapped tightly in a blanket, my body still trembling. The ordeal in the snowstorm had left me exhausted, but what chilled me to the bone was that Frank had actually made me—a pregnant woman—leave home in the middle of a blizzard.

We hadn't spoken a word on the way back, but I could sense the regret in his eyes. Now, he finally broke the silence.

"Baby, I'm sorry."

Frank suddenly knelt in front of me, grasping my ice-cold hands. His handsome face was etched with remorse, just like that expression he'd worn three years ago at the avalanche site when I saved him.

"I was too impulsive. I just... I'm so worried about you and the baby." His voice choked up. "Eight thousand feet elevation, fifteen below outside—if something had happened to you both..."

My heart softened for a moment. After all, it was three years of our relationship, and I was carrying his child. Maybe, just maybe, he was only being overprotective? Earlier at the ski shop, when I saw him fall so awkwardly, I did feel sorry for him...

But the next second, he stood up and grabbed an iPad from the coffee table.

"I've already downloaded the latest 'High-Altitude Pregnancy Health Management System.'" His tone immediately shifted to serious and professional. "Starting tomorrow, you'll need to wear this heart rate monitor."

A silver bracelet appeared before me.

My eyes widened. This was his idea of an apology?

"Baby, your blood oxygen needs to stay above 95%, and your heart rate can't exceed 120 beats per minute." Frank began setting parameters on the iPad, completely absorbed in his "scientific management." "This system will monitor your breathing patterns, sleep quality, even emotional fluctuations in real-time. The moment there's any abnormality, I'll get an immediate alert."

I stared at the bracelet, remembering the snow-globe-shaped vial from the ski shop. That mysterious old man was right—sometimes love really does become a cage.

"Frank, this is ridiculous. I'm not your lab rat."

"This is scientific management!" Frank's voice shot up an octave. "Do you have any idea how risky high-altitude pregnancy is? Fetal hypoxia, premature birth, placental abruption..."

"Enough!" I jumped up, the blanket sliding to the floor. "What do you think I am? Some kind of ticking time bomb?"

A flash of hurt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by stubbornness.

"I'm protecting you both." His voice turned cold. "If you won't cooperate, then go ahead and keep running around in the snow like you did tonight."

Despair washed over me like a tide. This man—this man I had once risked everything to save—was slowly strangling my freedom in the name of "love."

I sank back onto the couch in defeat, letting Frank fasten the cold monitoring bracelet around my wrist.

The moment it clicked shut, I closed my eyes.

The next morning, I was awakened by the precise sound of a kitchen timer.

Frank was already dressed and ready, weighing something on a digital scale. The kitchen counter was covered with various supplement bottles, looking like a laboratory.

"Good morning, baby." Frank didn't look up. "Your breakfast is ready. Low-sodium, high-protein, prepared exactly according to prenatal nutritionist standards."

I walked to the dining table to find a plate of colorless food: boiled egg whites, unseasoned oatmeal, and a glass of what looked like muddy protein shake.

"Every gram of protein has been precisely calculated," Frank said proudly. "Twenty-five grams of quality protein, twelve vitamins, zero additives."

I picked up the spoon and tasted the oatmeal. No salt, no sugar—even the milk's natural taste was masked by some kind of nutritional powder.

I forced down each bite, fighting nausea.

Just then, the floodgates of memory suddenly opened—

Three years ago, North Slope of Aspen.

The avalanche warning had just sounded. Against the team leader's orders, I rushed alone toward the avalanche zone. I heard a cry for help—faint but clear.

"Is anyone there?! Anyone?!"

I dug frantically with my snow shovel, my gloves long since torn, blood mixing with snow. Finally, I saw a hand—Frank's hand.

"Don't give up! I'm here to save you!" I shouted into the snow pile.

When Frank was finally dug out, he held me tight, his eyes filled with grateful tears.

"You saved my life," he choked out. "I'm yours for the rest of my life."

Frank was so vulnerable then, so dependent on me. And I—I was so brave, so free...

"What's wrong? Doesn't it taste good?"

Frank's voice pulled me back to reality. I realized tears were streaming down my face.

"It's... it's nothing." I wiped my tears and continued eating the tasteless food.

From lifesaver to prisoner—how had I fallen this far?

The day passed in this oppressive atmosphere.

As night fell, I was browsing news on my tablet, the monitor on my wrist occasionally flashing green.

Suddenly, Frank's phone rang.

"Frank?" Madison's sweet voice came through the speaker. "Something terrible has happened!"

My heart tightened. Madison—Frank's newly signed Olympic candidate. Blonde, blue-eyed, perfect figure, and most importantly—young.

"What's wrong?" Frank immediately tensed up.

"Jake crashed into the barrier during training—possible concussion! The doctor says he needs professional sports medicine evaluation," Madison's voice was tearful. "Frank, we need you. Only you can handle this kind of situation."

Frank glanced at me and hesitated for a few seconds.

"I'll be right there," he said.

After hanging up, Frank began packing while rattling off instructions:

"Remember, bed by ten tonight, up at eight tomorrow morning. The protein shake is in the fridge, vitamin pills are in the..."

"I know." I cut him off. "Just go."

Frank hastily kissed me and rushed out the door.

I waited a full five minutes to make sure Frank was really gone before jumping up from the couch.

I immediately grabbed my phone and called the Mexican restaurant for delivery.

"The spiciest chicken wrap, double cheese, and a large hot chocolate!" I practically shouted.

Forty minutes later, the delivery arrived. I hungrily bit into the chicken wrap, the chili's aroma instantly filling my mouth.

"This is the life I want!" I cried as I ate, tears dropping onto my food.

The taste of freedom—how sweet it was.

After finishing, I had the most satisfying sleep. It was the first good night's sleep I'd had since getting pregnant.