"Christy, I just wanted to share my birthday joy with you by offering you some cake. I know it was foolish of me to overstep my bounds by staying by Sawyer's side and making you angry, but the child is innocent! How could you push me on purpose just to vent your anger?"

I stared at her in disbelief.

"Christy Yale!" Sawyer's face darkened, his voice as cold as ice. "I told you, Rosalie is only bearing two children for me. She won't threaten your position as Mrs. Castillo. Can't you even tolerate that?"

"I didn't push her!" Suppressing the burning pain coursing through my body, I pointed to the surveillance camera at the corner of the staircase. "If you don't believe me, check the footage."

Seeing this, Rosalie immediately threw herself into his arms, clutching her stomach and wailing loudly. "Sawyer, my stomach hurts so much. Are we losing our baby?"

Sawyer frantically scooped her up, his face filled with panic and distress. As he passed me, he spotted the chestnut cake on the table.

He furrowed his brows. "Christy, you're not as understanding as you used to be. Since Rosalie kindly offered it and you won't eat it, I'll just have someone feed you."

He instructed the servants, "Watch Madam eat it all. Not a single bite should be left."

I struggled desperately. "Sawyer, you can't do this to me! I can't eat chestnuts."

The only response I got was the sight of him hastily walking away and the smug smile curling on Rosalie's lips.

My in-laws wanted nothing to do with me, quickly leading my little son away.

Several servants pinned me down, ignoring my severe burns and desperate pleas, forcing the cake into my mouth with brutal force.

Once outside the Castillos' residence, I could no longer hold myself together and collapsed to my knees.

I clawed at my throat, retching until my body convulsed.

I kept vomiting until the ground was covered in streaks of blood and then I swayed and collapsed by the roadside.

By the time passersby sent me to the hospital, I was already unconscious.

I heard the doctor's frantic shouts, "Quick, contact the family to sign the critical illness notice! The patient's somatization is severe."

"The patient can't breathe on her own."

As soon as the call connected, the nurse spoke urgently, "Sir, your wife's in critical condition. Please come to the city general hospit—"

A breathy moan on the other end cut her off.

The few people present exchanged glances. Along with their embarrassment, their gazes towards me held a hint of sympathy.

A few seconds later, a low, husky voice came through. "Rosalie already said she won't hold it against you. Why do you have to keep going on like this? Christy, I'm really disappointed in you."

"I already told you, there's nothing between me and Rosalie, but you insist on being suspicious. Since you're so convinced we're having an affair, then let it be as you wish!"

I heard a woman's coquettish giggle just before the line cut off. "Sawyer, be gentle. Don't hurt the baby."

The nurse wanted to say more, but the phone had already been hung up.

I forced a smile.

Then, I laughed.

Laughed until tears streamed down my face.

For five whole days, Sawyer never contacted me once.

Still, Rosalie added me on social media.

As if possessed, I clicked "accept."

Later, I saw her blatant flaunting on her feed.

Sawyer was kneeling on one knee, devoutly and dotingly kissing her pregnant belly.

The caption read: [True happiness is loving someone who loves you back.]

Below that was Sawyer's reply. [Running toward each other, heart to heart.]

I stared at that photo for a long time until my eyes burned.

While I was distracted, a familiar doctor passed by. It was Sawyer's attending physician.

He was also the one who diagnosed my husband's cancer.

When he recognized me, a guilty conscience flashed across his eyes.

I realized something was wrong and was about to ask.

He couldn't stand the condemnation of his conscience, so he took out a bank card and stuffed it into my hand. "Mrs. Castillo, I was blinded by greed and listened to Mr. Castillo's lies. These past few years, I haven't been able to eat or sleep peacefully. I deeply regret doing something that violated medical ethics. Mr. Castillo doesn't have cancer at all. I don't know why he insisted on deceiving only you. I'm returning the money to you. Please don't look for me again in the future."

After that, he scurried off.

I felt like I'd been slapped mid-air. My head was buzzing.

No wonder he refused chemotherapy and opted for conservative treatment.

No wonder he never let me accompany him to check-ups.

It turned out he never had cancer at all.

To be with Rosalie openly and without shame, he deceived me for four whole years!

My cold fingertips curled into fists.

At that moment, something in my chest utterly collapsed.

It seems a relationship only takes eight years to rot completely.

I called my lawyer friend and drafted a divorce agreement.

When I got home and pushed open the door, Rosalie was sitting on Sawyer's lap, wearing my pyjamas with her collar wide open.

Sawyer didn't immediately push her away. Instead, he pecked her on the lips.

When he looked at me, his eyes were full of blame.

"Rosalie's had frequent fetal movements because you scared her and she hasn't been sleeping well. I had no choice but to bring her home to comfort and care for her."

"The doctor said the more affectionate the parents are, the more stable the baby's emotions will be. I'm doing this to make up for your mistakes."

I quietly stared at the face I'd loved for so many years.

Suddenly, it felt so unfamiliar that I barely recognized it.

My fingertips dug deep into my palms, trembling with pain.

Eventually, I gave a bitter laugh. "Got it."

After saying that, I turned and walked upstairs.

I froze when I opened the bedroom door and my breathing almost stopped.

All my skincare products on the vanity had been replaced.

The sheets and curtains were changed to the pink color I hated the most.

Even the wedding photos on the wall were replaced with a family photo of their family of four.

Sawyer held his son and the woman with a bulging belly in one hand.

His doting gaze wasn't on the camera but on the woman nestled against his shoulder, her face full of sweetness, as he smiled blissfully.

My face was ashen. I had to take deep breaths to keep the tears from falling.

A pair of huge, familiar hands embraced me from behind.

Sawyer buried his face in my neck, breathing softly.

"Honey, I know you're the kindest and most generous. The main bedroom has good light, which is good for Rosalie and the baby, so I'll have to trouble you to stay in the guest room for now."

"I swear, there's nothing going on between me and Rosalie. The only reason I'm good to her is because she's carrying our child. You're the only one I love."

"Don't be jealous, okay?"

He had two kids with her and he still had the nerve to say nothing was going on?

I looked down sarcastically, then heard him sigh in annoyance.

"If I didn't have cancer, I wouldn't have to force myself to be with other women, let alone hurt my love."

"There's no one else I want to touch, only you."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Rosalie's startled cry came from downstairs.

Sawyer immediately pulled away, rushing downstairs in a hurry.

He didn't even notice that his abrupt movement had shoved me into the sharp corner of the door handle. Blood gushed out, blurring my vision.

After what felt like an eternity, the bleeding from my forehead finally stopped, leaving only a searing pain behind.

But when I staggered to my feet, my eyes widened violently at the sight before me.

Through the gaps in the second-floor railing, Sawyer stood at the main entrance, holding a red-eyed Rosalie, ordering the servants to dig up all the red roses in the garden.

He had specially planted them for me the year he successfully proposed.

He said the language of roses was passionate and eternal love.

Just like he loved me, he would love me forever and ever until the end of his life.

My heart shattered into a million pieces.

I stumbled downstairs to stop them, but was grabbed by Sawyer.

When our eyes met, I saw a flicker of hesitation in his gaze.

But the moment Rosalie let out a soft whimper, he grew impatient.

"They're just a few useless weeds and they even pricked Rosalie's finger. They have to go."

My eyes red-rimmed, I watched as the servants uprooted each of the roses I had painstakingly cared for twelve years.

They threw them into the dirt, stomped on them and crushed them until their broken juices oozed out.

"Stop! All of you, stop it!"

I burst into tears and couldn't help rushing forward.

Before I could even reach them, Sawyer grabbed me and pulled me back. "That's enough! Rosalie is pregnant. Do you really want to see her and the baby get hurt before you're satisfied? When did you become so malicious and selfish?"

Furious, he strode forward, his leather shoes trampling over the withered roses, grinding them mercilessly beneath his heels.

His voice was icy as he issued his warning.

"This is just a small lesson. If you dare harm Rosalie again, I won't let you off so easily."

I stared at him in a daze as if someone had me by the throat. Every breath I took was thick with the metallic tang of pain.

The tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down my face.

Sawyer would never know that what he had trampled wasn't just a rose. It was twelve years of love between us.

Seeing me like this, his heart tightened and his expression involuntarily softened. "Christy."

Without waiting for him to get close, Rosalie raised her index finger with a mini band-aid on it, covered her chest and fell into his arms.

"Sawyer, I can't breathe. It's probably because I was pricked by the rose thorns just now and lost too much blood. If my Christy likes it, you should plant it back for her. It's okay for me to suffer a little. After all, she is your wife."

"Nonsense! You're the mother of my child! Who dares to make you suffer?"

With that, he yelled for the servants to call the family doctor.

Rosalie gave a pitiful sigh. "It's no use. I'm too frail. The priest said only a blessed safety amulet from the old church can keep me safe."

I suddenly looked up, my face pale, my trembling hands pressing down hard on the safety amulet around my neck.

It was the only keepsake my mother left me.

After she died, Sawyer, fearing I would be too heartbroken, found a professional restorer who, without damaging the amulet, placed a lock of my mother's ashes inside it.

He frowned, a flicker of struggle in his eyes, as Rosalie, putting on an act, started to sob.

"It's okay. I was never worthy of anything that belonged to your wife anyway. I'm just a nameless tool. It's just a pity for our poor baby, having to suffer along with me."

As soon as she finished speaking, the hesitation in Sawyer's eyes vanished instantly. His tone turned icy.

"Just let Rosalie borrow it for a while. Once she gives birth, she'll return it."

My eyes burned, my voice trembling uncontrollably. "Sawyer, that contains my mom's… "

He cut me off impatiently. "She's been dead for years. What's with all the melodrama? Besides, if your mom can protect Rosalie and the baby, it'll only bring you blessings."

"Christy, hand it over. I don't want to lay my hands on you."

I knew that if I didn't hand over the amulet today, Sawyer wouldn't stop.

He could destroy my most cherished roses for a small scratch on Rosalie.

Naturally, he could also destroy my mother's keepsake for her flimsy lie.

I helplessly lowered my gaze, took off the amulet and handed it over.

A blatant malice flashed in Rosalie's eyes.

"Oh! So, your mom's ashes are inside? I'll be sure to take good care of it."

Bang!

The moment our fingers touched, Rosalie suddenly let go.

The amulet fell to the ground, shattering into several pieces.

The ashes instantly scattered.