In the middle of the night, I woke up to make formula for my daughter and put her back to sleep.

Just as I was about to lie down, I suddenly heard my husband's phone beep.

Worried that the sound might wake our daughter, I picked up his phone to put it on silent. But when I glanced at the screen, I saw an open forum page that hadn’t been closed.

The title of the post read: "What's it like to marry someone you don't love?"

My husband had replied, "No fun in bed at all. Every day, I think about getting a divorce."

Underneath, there were several replies hyping him up.

"Wow, dude, you're bold! Not even hiding behind anonymity? Aren’t you afraid your wife will see this?"

He responded, "Not worried, she's busy taking care of the baby. She doesn't have time for this."

And the comments went on, full of praise.

I looked at the man sleeping soundly beside me, feeling a wave of confusion.

Was this man, who showed such cold indifference toward his wife online, truly the same loving and gentle husband I knew in real life?

But I knew it was him.

Owen Clinton’s profile picture had always been the same—a distant, solitary figure of a girl bathed in moonlight.

I once playfully suggested he change it to a matching couple’s avatar with me.

It was one of the rare times he actually got angry.

Later, Owen brushed it off, saying it was just a picture he liked, and asked me not to read too much into it.

But after that, he never brought up the idea of changing it and continued to use the same image across all his social media, where he remained quite active.

Ding.

There was another message.

I clicked it open.

It was from Owen's school group.

Someone had forwarded his response, and the group chat was buzzing with excitement.

"Still hung up on Luna Dawson, huh, Owen?"

"Haha, you're in luck! Luna's coming back tomorrow, and a few of us are planning a welcome-back party. You joining us?"

Luna?

I clenched the phone tightly, my eyes glued to that name as my mind exploded in a whirlwind of confusion.

When we named our daughter, Owen insisted on calling her Luna, repeatedly saying in front of everyone that Luna was the only love of his life.

Could it be... that the origin of our daughter’s name was because of that Luna?

It felt like an invisible blade slicing through my heart, the pain overwhelming, yet I had no place to let out the scream trapped inside me.

Looking at the man peacefully sleeping beside me, I chose to put the phone back as if nothing had happened.

After all, Owen was the man I’d loved for five years and the father of my daughter. I had to give him a chance to explain.

With a swirl of emotions, I lay back down, gazing at the bright moonlight streaming through the window, yet all I felt was a deep, chilling cold.

The name "Luna" felt like a cold, unrelenting cage, slowly closing in and consuming me bit by bit.

…

The next morning, I woke up to find Owen already gone for work, having left breakfast for me on the table.

The temperature was just right, not too hot, not too cold.

I smiled, feeling comforted.

See, I knew it—Owen wasn’t that kind of person.

Just as I was reassuring myself that last night had been nothing but a bad dream, I noticed a gift box on the table.

How typical of him—today wasn’t even a special occasion, and yet he was being romantic again.

With a heart full of anticipation, I opened the box.

Inside was a luxurious diamond ring, advertised as "a gift meant for one special person, once in a lifetime."

Beside it lay a card.

I smiled even wider—until I saw what was written on the card.

My smile froze instantly.

"To my dearest Luna."

Luna.

Again, Luna!

My heart sank even further.

Our daughter was just a newborn, far too young for a ring like this.

And it was clearly too small to fit my fingers.

So, who exactly was this ring meant for?

Could it be that Owen truly had a "first love" named Luna Dawson, someone he had been holding onto all this time, even at the expense of his wife and child?

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, Owen returned home, though I hadn’t noticed when. The moment he saw the ring in my hand, his expression shifted dramatically.

Without a second thought, he shoved me aside, ignoring the fact that I was still recovering, and snatched the ring back.

"Get away from that ring! Who said you could touch it?"

I stumbled back, clutching my stomach as I hit the table, the fresh stitches from my surgery starting to throb with pain.

But Owen didn’t care.

All his focus was on carefully wiping down the ring, completely indifferent to my cries of pain.

It wasn’t until blood started seeping through my bandages that he finally seemed to notice me.

“Suzy, you’re bleeding!”

His voice trembled as he rushed to help me up.

"My stomach hurts... please, take me to the hospital."

Every word I forced out seemed to intensify the pain.

"Alright, I’ll take you right now."

Owen had just started to lead me out when his phone rang.

"Hey, Owen, weren’t you coming over with the gift? What’s taking so long? Luna’s about to arrive."

He glanced at me before lowering his voice. “I’ve got a little situation at home. I’ll be there as soon as I sort it out.”

Hearing this, a sharp ache pierced through my heart, bitterness rising within me.

A "situation"?

Was that all I had become in Owen’s mind—just a troublesome inconvenience?

At that moment, a sweet voice came through the phone on the other end.

"Sorry to keep everyone waiting! It’s been so long since we last saw each other. How’s everyone doing? Wait, where’s Owen?"

…

As soon as that voice came through the phone, I saw Owen’s entire body tense up, like he had suddenly become a different person. His eyes lit up with an intensity I had never seen before—something he had never shown when he was with me.

"Suzy, there’s an emergency at the office. I need to leave right now. You’ll have to go to the hospital on your own."

He pried my desperate fingers off his arm, grabbed the ring, and rushed out, leaving nothing but a blur of motion behind him.

That day, no one knew how a wounded new mother managed to carry a seven-pound baby to the hospital and back all by herself.

By the time I returned, it was already late at night.

The house was completely dark.

Owen hadn’t come home.

But his social media had been updated.

I clicked into the post.

"The most precious gift: to love only one person for a lifetime."

Attached was a photo—a hand wearing the diamond ring. The same ring Owen had taken this morning. It fit perfectly on that woman’s finger.

The comments flooded in below.

"Isn’t this Luna? How are you posting on Owen’s phone?"

"Haha, you haven’t heard of the news? Owen drank too much tonight and wouldn’t let go of Luna’s hand, saying wherever she goes, he’ll follow. They’ll never be apart again."

"The golden couple of our class, still in love after all this time. It’s almost too perfect!"

As I scrolled through the comments, a hollow feeling settled in my chest.

If they were the golden couple, then what did that make me? What did that make our daughter?

I dialed Owen’s number, and when he picked up, all I heard were the sounds of two people together, intimate and shameless.

"Luna, don’t leave me. All these years, I’ve missed you so much. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to marry."

…

Click.

I hung up the phone.

At that moment, I knew—it was over between Owen and me.

It wasn’t until the next afternoon that he finally came home, looking worn out and exhausted.

“Sorry, babe, something came up at work yesterday. I got home late.”

“Is that so?”

I sat on the couch, my gaze cold and distant, no longer rushing to greet him like I used to.

Instead, I unlocked my phone.

“Owen, you never used to lie to me.”

On my screen was a message from Luna.

Somehow, she had found my contact and sent me a video—several minutes long.

In the video, Luna was dressed in a pristine white wedding gown, her arm linked with Owen’s as they stepped onto the grand altar.

Owen knelt down on one knee, holding a diamond ring. "Miss Dawson, will you be my wife?"

Their friends’ voices echoed in the background, cheering, "Marry him! Marry him!"

The video abruptly ended.

Faced with undeniable proof, Owen’s expression darkened.

"Suzy, since when did you become so petty?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "My husband is out there having a wedding with another woman, and now you’re calling me petty? Am I supposed to hand my husband over to someone else to be considered gracious?"

Owen rubbed his temples, his tone laced with frustration.

"It was just a joke between friends. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d misunderstand. Luna and I were high school classmates. She just got back from studying abroad, so we threw her a welcome party. Luna mentioned wanting to shoot a wedding vlog for fun, so we went along with it.

"Suzy, I’m exhausted. Can you stop this right now?"

With that, Owen tossed his suit jacket aside and retreated to the bedroom, collapsing into bed.

The faint scent of perfume, one that wasn’t mine, lingered on his clothes.

I let out a cold laugh.

Of course, after spending the night with Luna, he would be tired.

It was time I started making plans for myself.

---

Later that evening, perhaps realizing how inappropriate his behavior had been, Owen suggested taking me and our daughter out for dinner.

When we arrived, Luna was already there.

How convenient.

I turned to Owen, pointing at Luna. "What’s she doing here?"

"We were talking about dinner earlier, and Luna mentioned she was hungry, so I thought we’d all eat together," he said, frowning like I was the one being unreasonable, then turned and smiled warmly at Luna.

The two of them sat close together, with Owen gently holding Luna’s hand. "Your hands are freezing. Why don’t you take better care of yourself?"

She laughed softly. "That’s what I have you for."

I sat in silence, holding my daughter, watching it all unfold.

Luna suddenly leaned over and pinched my daughter’s cheek.

"Aww, is this Owen’s daughter? She’s adorable! I heard she’s named Luna, just like me?"

Before I could respond, Luna smiled, taking a crystal pendant off her neck and placing it in my daughter’s hands.

"This was a Valentine’s Day gift from Owen. I’ve always cherished it, but now I’m giving it to your little one."

Owen awkwardly cleared his throat. "Let’s focus on ordering food instead of just chatting."

I glanced down at the pendant. The front was engraved with "Luna," and on the back was "Owen," etched into the flawless crystal—a perfect symbol of their so-called love.

The food arrived shortly after. Spicy chicken wings, Cajun blackened fish, and fiery beef stew—all heavily spiced dishes. I picked up my fork, stared at the plates for a moment, then quietly set it down.

Not a single dish was something I could eat.

Meanwhile, Luna playfully nudged Owen. "You remembered how much I love spicy food!"

Owen lightly tapped her nose. "Of course."

That entire meal, I barely tasted a thing.

It wasn’t until the end, as Owen noticed my fading figure, that he seemed to realize something.

"Sorry, Suzy, I forgot you can’t handle spicy food. Do you want me to order something else for you?"

I shook my head. "No, it’s fine."

---

On the way back, Luna climbed into the front passenger seat before I even had a chance.

Owen didn’t say a word of protest.

I quietly opened the back door.

"Owen, I’ve been wanting to visit our high school again," Luna said, resting her chin in her hand, her eyes sparkling. "Remember that little grove? That’s where you knelt down and confessed your love to me."