"After Sherry Ritter became pregnant, her body swelled significantly, and her hands became as puffy as pig trotters. It was nearly impossible to fit the diamond ring on her fingers, and when she did, it looked awkward and unflattering.

“It’s perfect for you, Dora. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get it,” Angelo said reassuringly.

Hearing his words, I felt my blood boil. My voice trembled as I forced myself to speak.

"Angelo, isn’t the child I’m carrying yours?"

He ignored my question entirely, instead demanding, “How long will it take you to get here?”

I couldn’t bear to argue anymore and hung up the phone. Moments later, it buzzed again—a text from him.

[You’d better show up within half an hour, or you’ll have to go home alone to celebrate the New Year. Imagine going back with a big belly—your parents will be furious!]

Though I had resolved to go through with inducing labor, his message cut deep, and tears streamed down my face. I clutched my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, crouching on the side of the highway as sorrow consumed me. Unable to hold back any longer, I sobbed uncontrollably.

At some point, someone must have called the police. A patrol car pulled up, and a young officer stepped out. Gently, he helped me into the car and drove me home.

When I entered, the house was pitch dark. I curled up on the bed, exhaustion finally overtaking me as I fell into a restless sleep. But it wasn’t long before I was jolted awake—dragged forcefully to the floor.

My eyes snapped open, meeting Angelo’s furious gaze.

“Where were you yesterday?” he roared. “Dora and I waited at the office for hours, and you never showed up! She didn’t have the diamond ring on her hand, and her relatives laughed at her all night!”

His voice rose with anger. “How dare you sleep peacefully here?”

He flung me to the ground, and my stomach hit the edge of the bed with a sharp thud. Pain radiated through my body, and cold sweat instantly drenched my forehead.

For a fleeting moment, guilt flickered in Angelo’s eyes, and he hesitated as if to help me. But when I instinctively recoiled, shrinking away, his expression darkened.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he barked. “Just because I asked you for the diamond ring, now you don’t want me near you? Don’t forget—the child is mine, and that diamond ring was bought with my money!”

Seeing my pale face and obvious pain, Angelo took a deep breath, as if forcing himself to be patient.

“Dora is young. She can’t handle the pressure of marriage, so I stepped in to help her. You’re older and still acting like a child,” he added, his tone bordering on condescension.

I clenched my fists, suppressing the urge to retort, but before I could speak, Dora burst through the door. Her gaze landed on me sprawled on the floor, and though a flicker of triumph flashed in her eyes, she hurried forward with feigned concern.

“Angelo, no matter how upset you are, you shouldn’t let my sister sit on the floor. She’s still pregnant,” Dora said softly.

Angelo stopped her with a wave of his hand.

“You’re too kind, Dora. After what she did last night, you’re still thinking about her feelings?” He turned back to me, his tone hardening. “I have to take Dora home this afternoon, so hurry up and give her the diamond ring.”

He paused, adding with mock generosity, “If you behave, I’ll take you back to your parents in two days.”

He clearly believed I couldn’t make the trip alone and was using it to manipulate me. Yet, I couldn’t forget how he’d begged me to keep the baby just a few months ago.

“Sherry, please keep the child,” he’d pleaded back then. “I’ll come to your family during the New Year to propose.”

Blinded by his sweet promises, I had chosen to keep the pregnancy. But in just six months, everything had changed.

Now, seeing that I hadn’t moved, Angelo’s patience snapped. He crouched down, grabbed my hand, and yanked it roughly.

I had gained a lot of weight during my pregnancy, and the diamond ring now fits tightly on my swollen middle finger, leaving an indent in the flesh.

Angelo glanced at it, a flicker of disdain crossing his eyes as his lips curled in contempt.

"You’ve gotten as fat as a pig, and you don’t even try to lose weight. Look at that ring—does it even look good on your hand?"

He sneered, adding, "Some women stay slim even while pregnant. But you? You’ve let yourself go—ugly and sloppy."

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed my hand and began pulling the ring off forcefully. It was snug, and his rough movements rubbed my skin raw, leaving my fingers red and sore.

With every tug, I felt my heart sink deeper into despair.

When I first got pregnant, my health was so poor that he had taken it upon himself to manage my meals, flaunting a nutritionist certificate like a badge of honor. He had seemed attentive, and caring. Now, all of that feels like a distant memory.

I lowered my gaze, my heart aching, unwilling to meet his cold eyes.

Dora’s cheerful voice broke the silence.

"Mr. Greer, what a gorgeous diamond ring! I wish I had one like that!"

Angelo chuckled, his tone affectionate.

"If you like it, I’ll get you an even better one next time," he said with a laugh.

Dora hesitated, feigning guilt.

"But if I take it, won’t my sister be upset?"

He dismissed her concern with a shrug.

"Her hands are swollen like pig’s trotters. Wearing a diamond ring is just a waste on her."

They left together, their voices fading as they moved further away, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence.

I sighed, the weight of my scheduled abortion heavy on my mind, and pulled out my phone to call a taxi. As I opened the app, an update from the local newsfeed appeared on the homepage. My hand slipped, and I accidentally clicked on it.

[Bringing my fiancé home for the New Year!]

The attached photo showed Dora sitting in the passenger seat, her right hand held up to display the diamond ring prominently on her finger. The interior of the car was unmistakable—it was Angelo’s most expensive one.

My breath caught, but I forced myself to give the post a thumbs-up. Seconds later, tears blurred the screen. I quickly wiped them away, switched back to the taxi app, and booked a ride to the hospital.

On the way there, my phone rang. Angelo’s angry voice blared through the speaker as soon as I answered.

"I already told you, I’m just pretending with Dora! Why are you being so petty?"

Before I could respond, Dora’s voice broke in, trembling with faux regret.

"Sister, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have posted that. I just wanted to convince my parents. Please don’t be mad. I’ll delete it right away."

Angelo cut her off impatiently.

"There’s no need to delete it. She’s always making a fuss over nothing. Just ignore her."

The line went dead before I could utter a single word.

The taxi driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his expression curious and puzzled. After a moment of silence, he finally asked, “What’s going on, miss?”

I forced a weak smile and replied, "My fiancé is pretending to be his assistant’s boyfriend so he can go home with her for the New Year."

The driver blinked in disbelief before stammering, "Girl… this, this…" He sighed deeply, unable to find the right words.

Even strangers could see how wrong this was, but Angelo acted as if everything he did was perfectly normal.

I lay on the cold operating table, staring at the ceiling as the anesthetic was injected into my veins. When I opened my eyes again, my stomach was deflated, hollow.

Not far away, I saw the tiny, unformed fetus resting inside a black box. Tears streamed silently down my cheeks as I reached out, taking the box from the doctor’s hands.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, I felt an emptiness consuming me.

After what felt like an eternity, I got up and left the hospital, my steps heavy and weak. Passing by radiant new parents cradling their newborns, I could only bow my head and keep walking, feeling like a ghost drifting through their joy.

When I finally returned home, Angelo was lounging on the sofa, a cigarette perched between his fingers. He didn’t even look up as I entered.

When he heard the door open, his face immediately darkened.

"Where have you been? I called you so many times, and you didn’t answer. Hanging out so late—do you even care?"

It was only then that I noticed dozens of missed calls on my phone. I forced myself to explain:

"I just came from the hospital..."

Angelo’s gaze scanned me from head to toe. My swollen belly was hidden beneath my down jacket, giving nothing away. He sneered, his tone cold and dismissive:

"Sherry, you’ve really disappointed me. Do you even think before you lie? You just had your prenatal checkup a few days ago. What excuse is this?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, the bathroom door creaked open. Dora stepped out, wearing my pajamas.

"Sister, where have you been? Mr. Greer couldn’t find you and was worried sick."

I froze, the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat. Turning my gaze to the man on the sofa, I silently begged for an explanation.

He didn’t even bother looking up. His voice was casual, almost indifferent:

"Dora’s lease ended, and she has nowhere to stay. It’s not safe for a young girl to be out alone, so I let her stay here for a few days."

Dora offered a bashful smile and added, "I didn’t bring any pajamas, so I borrowed yours."

Angelo paused, then looked at me with thinly veiled disdain.

"Honestly, you’ve gained so much weight, you can’t even wear those clothes anymore. Why not just let Dora have them?"

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, making my chest tighten with unbearable pain. I couldn’t breathe.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry. Instead, I turned and quietly went to the bedroom.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Angelo’s surprised expression—likely shocked that I didn’t throw a fit like usual. He followed me into the room, his tone softening slightly as he spoke.

"Sherry, I’m just being honest. Why are you so upset?"

"Besides, Dora is just a young girl. Why are you being so petty? You’re still the one I want to marry in the end, isn’t that enough?"

His words, meant to placate, only made my stomach churn. I couldn’t believe the audacity, the condescension in his tone.

When I didn’t respond, he stepped closer and reached out to hug me. Before he could, his phone buzzed. A voice message from Dora played aloud:

"Mr. Greer, I think I’d better leave. It seems my sister doesn’t want me here. Please tell her not to let this ruin your relationship because of me—ah…"

The recording abruptly stopped, and Angelo’s expression shifted, his face hardening with panic.

Without a word, he grabbed his coat and pulled me out of the room.

"Come with me to find Dora. If something happens to her, it’ll be your fault! You will apologize to her!"

I protested, my voice shaking with frustration:

"I didn’t make her leave! Why should I apologize?"

Angelo ignored me entirely, dragging me outside. My body, still weak from surgery, stumbled as he nearly shoved me into the car.

Leaning back against the seat, I felt the dull throb of pain in my body blended with the crushing weight of humiliation and grief. My chest felt tight, and I could barely hold back tears.

Angelo, on the other hand, kept his face like stone, saying nothing as he drove. His foot pressed the accelerator to the floor, and within ten minutes, we found Dora on the roadside, collapsed.

The car screeched to a halt. Angelo stormed out, dragging me along with him. My legs buckled under me, and I nearly fell. He didn’t care—he just shoved me in front of Dora.

"Apologize," he barked coldly.

I stared at him, my eyes wide in disbelief.

Dora, with trembling lips and tears pooling in her eyes, shook her head weakly.

"Mr. Greer, I’m fine… There’s no need for her to apologize."

Her voice quivered, but I could see the faint glimmer of satisfaction in her gaze.

Angelo’s face darkened further. He clenched his fists, his voice rising with fury.

"I said, apologize to Dora!"

Before I could react, he lashed out, kicking me hard enough to knock me to the ground. My head spun, my body breaking out in a cold sweat as sharp pain radiated through me.

My vision blurred, my pale face slick with sweat, as I gasped for air. Still, he stood there, unmoving, demanding compliance.