The nurse paused, startled for a moment, then realized. “Oh, right… You both have the surname, Castillo. So you know each other!”

Her gaze swept over Trisha and me, lingering for a second before she smiled. “You even look a little alike. Are you sisters?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I asked softly, “Is there something you need from me?”

The nurse smiled again. “No, I’m looking for this Miss Castillo.”

She turned to Trisha. “Mr. Velasquez has come back. He’s looking all over for you.”

“Is that so?” Trisha’s eyes sparkled as she gave me a proud glance. “Was he very worried?”

The nurse’s expression softened with envy. “Of course! He said your injury hasn’t healed yet. How could you be running around? He was so anxious!”

“If you ask me, it’s just your wrist, nothing serious, but he worries far too much! Miss Castillo, you’re really lucky. Your boyfriend is handsome and rich and dotes on you endlessly!”

Trisha’s face lit up with delight as she listened, glancing at me once more. After showing off her joy, she said, “I must get back quickly!”

Once she departed, the nurse remembered my own plight, surgery with no one to sign. A flicker of unease passed over her face, and she smiled awkwardly. “Miss Castillo, your surgery was very successful. Rest well, and when you recover, you’ll find a love like his, too.”

Her words, meant to soothe, only made my heart ache more. I forced a faint smile, tasting the bitterness behind it.

Trisha stayed in the hospital for three days, becoming the focus of everyone’s attention.

Andrius had reserved the entire VIP floor for her, bringing in a dedicated medical team to attend to her every need.

In addition to that day’s pasta, he had a Michelin chef on call 24 hours a day at a nearby hotel.

Every day, fresh lavender was delivered by air to scent the hallways, so she could sleep surrounded by the fragrance she adored.

In the hospital, some whispered with envy, while others rolled their eyes behind her back.

“That wrist wound? Barely a scratch. She acts like she had open-heart surgery!”

I stayed silent, my hand pressing against the left side of my chest. The one who had truly undergone heart surgery lay in an ordinary ward, unnoticed and unseen.

A week later, I was discharged and returned home alone.

In the living room, two figures sat on the sofa, Andrius, with Trisha perched on his lap.

When she saw me, Trisha pretended to protest, nudging him playfully. “Let go of me! Sister’s back!”

Andrius only pinched her cheek, gave her a light pat on the hip, and then let her stand.

When his gaze shifted to me, it was cold and detached. “So, you finally decided to come back?”

I turned to the servant nearby. “Tell sir where I’ve been these past few days.”

Before the servant could speak, Andrius cut in, his tone impatient. “No need. You just ran off, throwing a tantrum. I told you, I don’t have time for your moods. Since you’re back, go tidy up the room. The master bedroom faces the garden; it’s perfect for Trisha’s pregnancy.”

Trisha was pregnant.

I looked at her, and she rested a hand on her belly, a bright, carefree smile on her face. “Sorry, sister. I’ll be troubling you for a while.”

Andrius added casually, “You’ve been pregnant before; you can take care of Trisha.”

I remembered the truth I had learned that day, my child could have lived, but because she was a girl and therefore useless, Andrius had stripped her of the right to be born. And now, he expected me to care for his child with Trisha.

I stood frozen, my fingertips digging into my palms, the bitter taste of iron rising in my throat. Yet outwardly, my voice stayed calm.

“Alright.”

Andrius’s expression froze for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected me to agree so easily.

A flicker of panic rose in his chest, and for the first time in days, a trace of guilt surfaced as he remembered his neglect and the harshness of his earlier words.

His tone softened, tentative and almost pleading. “Maxine, I only need a child to appease my father. I know you’ve been wronged all this time. Bear with it a little longer. After Trisha gives birth, I’ll make it up to you.”

I drew a slow, steadying breath, forcing down the nausea that churned in my stomach, and said only, “Alright.”

Without another word, I went upstairs and began packing my luggage.

Since I was leaving, I wouldn’t leave a single trace behind.

Every item in the villa had been chosen by both of us, some even handmade with our own hands.

The ceramic mugs in the cupboard bore our cartoon figures, hand-fired during our newlywed days. Now, a layer of dust lay at the bottom, untouched for a long time, a silent testament to what we once were.

The travel journal lay in the drawer, a relic of promises we once made to explore a new country every year for our “honeymoon.” It held memories of laughter, sunsets, and stolen moments, but it stopped five years ago, abandoned and untouched.

On the bedside table, the faint fragrance of grapes lingered, a trace of a past I could almost reach.

I drifted toward the terrace, remembering how I had once mentioned that as a child, our yard had a grape trellis where my mother would hold me beneath its shade, telling me stories of princes and princesses.

The very next day, Andrius had come home with a truckload of grapevines, and together we built a trellis in the garden.

“If you miss your mother, just sit here. The little grape elves will carry your longing to her.”

Back then, he had seen the quiet ache in my heart and tried to ease it.

Now the garden was covered in Trisha’s favorite lavender. The trellis had been torn down during my five-year coma, never to bear fruit again, never to carry that familiar, comforting fragrance.

Every object decorating this unrecognizable home felt like a jagged blade, slicing into my already shattered, bleeding heart.

I endured the ache, discarding them one by one, packing my things with steady hands, and finally signed the agreement.

As I approached the study door, ambiguous sounds drifted out.

“Andrius, no! Maxine is home!” Trisha’s voice sounded soft and flirtatious, a feigned refusal that twisted my stomach.

Andrius’s lazy drawl floated out, low and possessive. “You tease me, isn’t it, because you want me to take you while Maxine is here?”

“Isn’t that more exciting?”

A sudden, loud cry from Trisha cut through the air. I didn’t need to imagine what had happened next; the sounds alone twisted my stomach. The papers in my hand crumpled slightly from my tightening grip.

Want excitement? Fine.

I stepped back a few paces, letting the sound of my movement echo on purpose.

The noises from the study stopped at once.

I knocked lightly on the half-closed door, then pushed it open with a calm expression.

Andrius’s hand hovered over his buttons, frozen mid-motion, while Trisha stood beside him, both hands pressing down her skirt.

I raised an eyebrow. “Busy?”

His face flickered for a moment, but he quickly regained control. “What is it?”

I held out the documents in my hand. “Sign this.”

“What is that?”

“Property paperwork,” I said evenly, hiding the storm inside. “If you want me to give up this room, then you should compensate me with a house. Reasonable, isn’t it?”

Andrius froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard by my words, then frowned slightly, his gaze sinking into mine.

He studied me, a trace of probing in his eyes. “You never used to ask for these things on your own.”

“People change,” I said flatly, then urged him, “Sign it.”

Andrius looked at me for a long, heavy moment, then finally nodded. Casually, he asked, “Which house did you choose? I remember you liked the development by Eastwood Lake… should we buy one there….”

He abruptly stopped, the pen hovering midair. From my angle, I saw Trisha’s fingers brushing across his back, one leg pressed tightly against him beneath the desk.

Andrius paused for two seconds, his gaze darkening. Then he picked up the pen, signed the papers, and handed them back to me.

“If there’s nothing else, go rest early.”

Though his tone was composed, the suppressed desire in his voice betrayed him.

I took the papers, my gaze sweeping once between him and Trisha, the corner of my lips lifting in a faint, mocking smile.

When I closed the door, the sound of rustling clothes drifted out again. My chest tingled, but the pain was gone.

The next morning, I brought the signed agreement to the City Hall, only to halt when a familiar figure appeared before me.

“Titus Morgan?” My eyes widened. “Why are you here?”

He was the man who had once kidnapped me, Andrius’s half-brother, the illegitimate son of the Velasquez family who could never show his face.

Leaning against the car, he smoked lazily, the curling smoke blurring his features, though his gaze made my breath catch.

“Don’t be nervous.” He stubbed out the cigarette and walked toward me. “You betrayed me before. How could I not keep an eye on you?”

His words tightened my chest, a bitter pang twisting deep inside. Five years with him, only to end up choosing his brother, his enemy, in the end. No wonder he was here, watching me stumble and humiliate myself.

Stopping before me, Titus chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “Here to finalize the divorce, huh? Andrius didn’t even bother showing up?”

I lowered my eyes. “He doesn’t need to.”

Titus only smirked, neither agreeing nor denying. “Then go on.”

Fear pricked my spine, wary of his intentions, so I hurried into City Hall.

The process was startlingly fast. When the seal pressed down, memories of the day Andrius and I had received our marriage certificate flashed before me.

“Maxine, I’ll repay you and protect you for a lifetime,” his voice echoed in my mind.

Seven years of marriage, five spent in a coma. His so-called lifetime had lasted only two years.

Now the marriage certificate had turned into divorce agreement, and the whole process had taken less than ten minutes.

When I stepped outside, Titus was still there, leaning casually against the car. I approached him and pulled another document from my bag, the one I had signed yesterday.

“This is ten percent of Velasquez Corporation’s shares. Take it as a token of my sincerity.”

Titus’s gaze lingered on the paper for a long moment, then lifted to meet mine.

“Trying to prove your loyalty?” His laugh was sudden and dangerous. He reached out, gripping my wrist. “I have a better way.”

Before I could react, he dragged me back into City Hall.

In my hands, a new marriage certificate appeared. I opened it, and in the photo, Titus wore a half-smile while I stared blankly, emotionless. No matter how you looked at it, we didn’t look like a loving couple at all.

Titus suddenly pinched my chin, his gaze boring into mine. “Maxine, this time, I won’t give you another chance to betray me.”