"Wife, why did you go to the hospital? Are you feeling unwell?"

The concern on his face was almost palpable, his eyes wide with worry. It was as though the world had come to a halt, and all that mattered was me.

I pushed his hand away, merely brushing it off and saying I was visiting a friend.

He exhaled deeply, his tension easing as the fear melted from his expression, replaced by the same familiar tenderness.

It felt like nothing had changed.

But as I looked at him, a chill crept up my spine, spreading from my feet to my head. How could he turn on this charm so easily?

Just hours ago, he had been in the arms of another woman, yet here he was, holding me as if he had never wavered.

Words eluded me, and I found myself silently following his lead.

Saul seemed determined to make up for the tension between us, going out of his way to win me back.

He reserved a table at the finest restaurant and bought me gifts that were as extravagant as they were expensive.

But no matter how much he tried, I couldn’t bring myself to smile, not even faintly.

How many women had he done this for?

How many times had that woman, the one who kept sending me emails, been the one after me?

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the phone rang, pulling me from the depth of my thoughts.

Saul glanced at it impatiently before hanging up, his mood visibly shifting.

"Is it work?" I asked softly, offering him a chance to take the call.

He hesitated for a split second, then picked it up. "It’s my assistant. Probably needs something from the company. I’ll be back in two minutes, wife."

I already knew who was calling. Zelda Finnegan.

It had to be her.

But I didn’t say a word.

As Saul stepped away, absorbed in the phone call, I found myself watching him, lost in the past.

I could almost hear the old Saul again, the one I once knew, the one who had once begged for my forgiveness.

"Beatrix, don’t be sad, it’s my fault, my mistake."

"Please don’t ignore me, Beatrix," he had pleaded, his voice raw with desperation.

He grabbed my sleeve, repeating his apologies as his eyes filled with tears.

Even before I could cry, he was already shedding his own.

"Beatrix, you can hit me or scold me, but please don’t ignore me. I’m scared."

The phone rang again, snapping me back to the present.

I glanced at it, and once again, that familiar email flashed before my eyes.

This time, it wasn’t words of apology. It was a test result.

She was pregnant.

Four months along.

I quickly glanced over at Saul, who was still deep in conversation.

He must have known by now.

Saul’s voice was strained, his agitation creeping through, and I could barely make out his words.

“Get rid of it, and then come find me.”

His eyes met mine, and he quickly forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Just as I absorbed the weight of his words, another message from Zelda Finnegan popped up on my phone.

[Mrs. Gatlin, how’s it going? Did you see clearly?]

[I’m pregnant with President Gatlin’s child. He said he’ll divorce you soon and marry me.]

[You know, President Gatlin has long since grown tired of you. He said you’re too rigid and boring, no longer satisfying him. How can you still hold the position of Mrs. Gatlin?”]

A bitter laugh escaped me.

As Saul walked back in, he raised an eyebrow at me, his curiosity piqued.

“What’s so funny?”

I quickly turned off my phone, offering only a vague response.

“Just watching a funny video.”

Throughout dinner, neither of us spoke much, our thoughts tangled in a web of their own.

When the meal ended, Saul drove me back.

He casually mentioned that his assistant had called earlier with matters that needed his attention.

I knew exactly what it was; he was off to handle Zelda’s little ‘problem.’

Once he left, Zelda didn’t waste any time.

The messages started flooding in, each one more taunting than the last.

[Beatrix, has President Gatlin finally left you?]

[It was me who called him. So, how does it feel? Does it sting? I acted just a little coquettish, and he came rushing to my side while you... despite all your efforts, couldn’t keep him.]

[For the past year, every night he hasn’t been home, he’s been with me.]

[He told me to have this child. After all these years together, you couldn’t give him one, and he’s been wanting a divorce for a long time.]

I didn’t know if her words were true, but they still sent a cold shiver through my chest.

I saved every screenshot of her messages, though I already knew the painful truth.

The man I’d loved for eight years was nothing more than a skilled actor.

I could no longer distinguish his true self from the lies.

After everything, I picked up the phone and called my childhood friend.

"Faye, about the store you mentioned before... is it still possible for me to join?"

"Of course! We’re short-handed at the moment, and having you on board would be like adding wings to a tiger! But didn’t you say you weren’t interested before? What changed?"

She had invited me a year ago.

Back then, Saul and I had been trying to conceive while his career was just starting to climb.

I only wanted to stay behind the scenes, supporting him quietly, but it seemed like I had been playing the fool.

"Well... I was foolish before. Now, I’ve finally woken up," I said.

Faye Barlowe caught the meaning in my voice.

"Did you and Saul have a fight? What did he do?"

I didn’t try to hide anything. "I’m going to divorce him."

"Do you remember what we said back then, Faye?"

She stayed silent for a long moment, then replied softly.

"I remember. If you’re unhappy, I’ll take you away."

"But what about the child?"

I wiped away a tear and managed a sad smile.

"My child will never want a father like him. I won’t allow it."

"Saul can’t trap me, not anymore."

As I looked around at what was left, all I could take were the jewelry pieces he’d bought me over the years.

From humble beginnings to the glittering treasures of later years, each one could be traded for enough money to start fresh.

The day I left, everything seemed ordinary.

Saul and I shared breakfast, just like so many mornings before.

He looked at me, his smile warm and familiar. I returned it with one of my own.

Before I could leave, he reached out, pinching my cheek gently.

"Why are you so cute today, hmm?"

"I just keep liking you more and more," I teased, my smile growing as I brushed his hand away.

But as I studied his face, a chill settled deep in me.

This face, though older and more mature, was the same as the one I had known.

In his eyes and brows, I could still see the young Saul, the one from eight years ago.

The nineteen-year-old Saul would pull me close on rainy days, his arms a shield against the storm.

He would slip my cold hand inside his sleeve on winter nights, keeping me warm.

That nineteen-year-old Saul had loved me, and I had never doubted it.

The twenty-three-year-old Saul used to bring me late-night snacks after long days at work, his thoughtfulness never wavering despite his packed schedule.

He would take care of everything, ensuring I never had to lift a finger, even when his own time was scarce.

That twenty-three-year-old Saul had married me, and without hesitation, I had said yes.

But now, as I stood there, I couldn’t help but wonder—how had we ended up here?

Love had been real, but betrayal? That was all too real, too.

Saul seemed to sense my confusion, his hand reaching out to gently rub my head, offering me a fleeting moment of comfort.

He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his voice filled with that same care I had always known.

"Wife, the company’s a bit busy today, but I’ll try my best to make it back for dinner. Wait for me, okay?"

I nodded, offering a smile that felt almost foreign.

But once he was gone, I didn’t feel like waiting anymore. I began packing my things.

Before I left, the maid asked what to prepare for dinner.

I shook my head, my voice soft but firm, telling her not to bother.

I wouldn’t be coming back for dinner.

Never again.

That afternoon, I sent the divorce agreement and the ultrasound report to Saul’s company.

I knew, as long as I wanted it, the title of Saul’s wife would always belong to me.

But I didn’t want it anymore. The thought of it repulsed me.

From now on, I was just Beatrix.

I never imagined Saul wouldn’t even see what I had prepared.

He called me, his voice laced with guilt. "Sorry, wife, I can’t leave right now. It’s my fault. I’ll be home tomorrow, I promise. Don’t be upset."

I answered him calmly, "It’s fine; work comes first. Go ahead."

Deep down, I had already known it would be like this. People change, slowly but surely.

Year after year, the Saul I once knew had become nothing more than a stranger.

"As long as you’re not angry, wait for me at home, okay?"

He checked one last time before hanging up.

When I stepped out of the operating room, I started my journey to leave him.

By the time Saul returned home, he immediately felt that something was amiss.

The house was eerily quiet.

***

As he stepped into the house, a strange silence greeted him. Normally, Beatrix would be lounging in the living room, watching TV, waiting for his return.

But today, the room was eerily empty.

Not just the living room but the bedroom, too, was lifeless.

Yet, all her things remained untouched. Her clothes, suitcase, and purse were all still there as if she had never left.

But a gnawing unease settled in his gut.

He called Beatrix, but the line rang and rang unanswered.

Again and again, the same silence.

His heart began to race. Panic slowly crept in.

Frantically, he called the maid, only to learn that Beatrix hadn’t been home that morning.

His hands shook as he sent her a message, praying for a response, but the silence was deafening.

His words seemed to vanish into thin air.

Desperation clawed at him.

In a last-ditch effort, he called his assistant, urgently asking him to track down Beatrix's whereabouts.

His assistant’s voice crackled through the phone, confirming his worst fears.

"Beatrix didn’t buy any train tickets or flight tickets, sir. She was picked up by someone."

Picked up by someone?

Saul’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. Why had she gone? Where was she headed?

But the next words from his assistant sent a chill down his spine.

"The last place she went to... was the hospital."

The hospital?

Why would she go there? Was she sick? Panic surged through him as he tried to make sense of it all.

Then came his assistant’s voice again, tinged with surprise.

"Sir, the company received a package from Beatrix. Should we open it?"

A sharp knot formed in his stomach as he agreed.

When the package was opened, his breath caught in his throat.