On the day of my third wedding anniversary, I wait for my husband, Jonathan Myers, in the heavy downpour for four hours even though I'm already nine months pregnant.

I can feel the rain drenching me from head to toe. At the same time, I keep suffering from the irregular contractions.

Jonathan sends me a voice message. I can hear a bell tolling and a woman's laughter in the background.

"Honey, I'll be home late. Quinn told me that she's never admired the cityscape at night before."

The moment I'm hoisted onto a stretcher, I glance at my phone. Coincidentally, Jonathan's social media feed has just refreshed, showing a grid of nine photos.

Quinn Farris can be seen standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, where an array of the city lights stretch out behind her.

The caption reads, "I'm admiring the world with my baby girl."

Meanwhile, I've lost a lot of blood in the delivery room. On the surgical forms, the spot that's supposed to bear my husband's signature is left empty.

At 3:00 am, Jonathan wakes up in Quinn's bed. He then transfers me 5000 dollars and leaves a note on the transaction history.

"Thanks for your hard work."

I reject the transaction before dialing a number.

"Dad, I've thought things through. I want to leave the country."

###CONTENT

####CHAPTER-NAME:

Elizabeth's POV

The head of the obstetrics department frowned deeply when she took the report from me.

"Are you alone?" she asked. "Where's your husband?"

I smiled but didn't explain myself. Instead, I just said, "I don't have one."

"You need someone to watch over you in your current condition," she said in a tone that suggested there would be no room for compromise, pointing to the data in the report.

"High blood pressure and proteinuria. Both are symptoms of preeclampsia. You're at risk of convulsions, cerebral hemorrhaging, and placental abruption at any time."

"I understand. Thank you, doctor."

My phone vibrated after I walked out of the consultation room.

Quinn Farris had sent me a photo.

She was wearing my silk nightgown as she lounged on the couch in my home, holding the cat I had cared for for the last three years.

The straps of the nightgown had slipped down to her elbows, but she didn't bother fixing them, languidly exposing her shoulders.

"This nightgown is so comfortable, Liz. Why didn't you wear it more often?"

My husband, Jonathan Myers, had bought that nightgown for me when we got married.

I had stashed it at the bottom of the drawer with the intention of wearing it again after I gave birth and regained my figure.

I stared at the photo for a long time. I then navigated to my chat with Jonathan and typed out a message.

"I've signed the divorce agreement. It's in the second drawer of the bedside cabinet in the master bedroom."

However, when I sent the message, a red exclamation mark popped up.

Jonathan had blocked my number.

I didn't know when it happened, but I no longer had a place in his world.

…

I wasn't known as "Mrs. Myers" three years ago. Instead, I was known as Elizabeth Barry.

I was born in Cardelin and was a member of the International Doctors Alliance (IDA). I worked as a surgeon for the organization and was stationed in Yorniso.

I performed surgery on the battlefield thrice, and I delivered 43 children in refugee camps. When the sounds of shelling stretched on into the night, I stitched up a 12-year-old boy whose abdomen had been torn apart by shrapnel with only a single headlamp to guide my hands.

Jonathan appeared in my life when I returned to Cardelin for a three-month break.

He was an investor. A cool, refreshing scent of cologne always clung to him. Whenever he spoke to someone, he would lower his head slightly to look at them. He dedicated all his attention to them, giving them the wrong impression that they were the only person in his world.

Jonathan told me that he admired people like me the most.

"Did you know, Elizabeth? You looked like you were glowing when I saw you for the first time."

We were in his car when he admitted this to me. The dazzling city lights of Cliffton sparkled beyond the window.

Jonathan took my hand. He caressed the back of my hand with his thumb as if he were handling a precious treasure.

"You're just a woman, but you saved so many lives in such a far-away place. I'm just an ordinary person. What do I have to do to be worthy of someone like you?"

At the time, I thought that I had finally met someone who understood me.

####CHAPTER-NAME:

Elizabeth's POV

Jonathan flew to Yorniso seven times in the three months after we became a couple. He would always bring bountiful supplies with him, such as medications, medical instruments, chocolates, and his handwritten letters.

"I saw a shooting star today, Elizabeth. I made a wish for your safe return. You're not allowed to make fun of me."

I kept those letters in a metal box and carefully stashed them at the bottom of my suitcase.

Later, I noticed that every letter had a tiny line of text at the end.

"Send my regards to the children of Yorniso on my behalf, Quinn."

Quinn was Jonathan's assistant. Or, more accurately, she was his father's friend's daughter, who had been assigned to Jonathan's side for training purposes.

I didn't pay much attention to her at first because she was just his assistant. But whenever I thought about the past, I realized how foolish I had been.

Truth be told, my pregnancy had been an accident.

I had just completed my assignment in Yorniso and was about to sign another contract to be stationed in South Sorelia.

A week before my departure, the pregnancy test showed two red lines.

I called Jonathan, who was on a business trip in Gardemo at the time.

The place he was in was very noisy when he picked up, and I also heard the sounds of a woman's laughter.

"What's up, honey?"

"I'm pregnant."

Jonathan fell silent on the other end of the line. His voice had changed when he spoke again, sounding softer and more careful as if he were handling something fragile.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Lizzy," he called out hoarsely and emotionally. "Wait for me. I'll come home tomorrow."

Jonathan kept his word and came home the next day. He had a ring and fresh flowers with him when he sank to one knee before me.

"Marry me. Don't go so far away anymore. I'll take care of you."

I hesitated.

I had studied medicine for years and been on the battlefield for five years. I had saved hundreds of lives with my scalpel. And yet, Jonathan was asking me to throw everything away with the promise that he would take care of me.

"Elizabeth," Jonathan said, looking up at me with bloodshot eyes. "Do you know how scared I get whenever I hear about how war has broken out again in the place that you're stationed at?

"I'm scared that you'll never come back. I'm terrified of the thought that I'll never get the chance to tell you that meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me."

He paused before continuing in a low voice, "I know that your parents left you too soon. You've been shouldering everything by yourself since you were a child. But you have me now. Can you… Can you let me protect you?"

Jonathan's words struck my heart.

My parents were part of a foreign medical aid team. They died during an earthquake when I was only 12 years old.

I had been alone ever since.

But Jonathan told me that I had him now—that he wanted to protect me.

I trusted his words at the time and handed in my resignation letter.

My supervisor at the IDA called me three times, asking if I had lost my mind.

"You're the best surgeon I've ever taught, Elizabeth. Are you really going to give up on everything for a man? Is he worth it?"

"He is," I replied with a smile.

Even I was fooled by the resolute tone of my voice.

Everything began to fall apart later, just like a primetime melodrama.

It started when I had to go to my prenatal check-ups by myself.

"I have an important meeting today, honey.

"Quinn needs me to review a contract, honey. I can't leave.

"I'll get the driver to send you, honey. It's not like there's a difference."

Jonathan had an excuse ready every time, and he was absent for all the check-ups.

He also started coming home later and later.

The nights that I stayed up waiting for him grew longer and longer.

Whenever he stepped through the door, his collar reeked of an unfamiliar perfume.

When I asked Jonathan where he had gone, he smiled gently and said, "I was working overtime. Quinn was there too. I can get her to call you if you're worried."

I didn't question him further.

I thought that I was being too sensitive. Pregnant women always were, after all. They were prone to getting suspicious over nothing.

####CHAPTER-NAME:

Elizabeth's POV

One day, I found a lipstick in Jonathan's car.

It was absurd because I stopped wearing lipstick after I got pregnant.

I was preparing some soup in the kitchen when Quinn came over to "apologize".

Tears streaked down her face as she blubbered, "I'm the one who left the lipstick in the car, Liz. But there's nothing going on between Mr. Myers and me. Please don't misunderstand…"

I chose to believe Quinn at the time. Or more accurately, I forced myself to believe her words.

I was unemployed and six months pregnant. I didn't have anywhere else to go.

A person could think clearly only while they still had the privilege of choice. When they were totally out of options, they could only pretend to be oblivious.

Jonathan shot a nonchalant smile at me when he came home.

"See? I already told you that nothing was going on. Quinn's just too kind. She was worried that you would overthink, so she insisted on meeting you to explain the situation."

He walked over to me and hugged me from behind, hooking his chin on my shoulder.

"Stop acting this way, honey. You weren't like this in the past."

The past?

I was Elizabeth Barry in the past, not "Mrs. Myers".

My world consisted of operating tables, refugee camps, and people who were waiting for me to save them.

I didn't prepare soup in the kitchen while waiting for a man to come home. I wouldn't lose sleep over a tube of lipstick.

My life became stagnant after I got married. My world shrank until I only moved within two miles of my home. I only traveled between my home, the grocery store, and the hospital for my prenatal check-ups.

Meanwhile, Jonathan's business improved by the day, which also meant that he needed to meet more clients.

Quinn was promoted from his assistant to his special assistant. She then became his business partner until eventually, she became the only woman who was always by his side.

During an annual meeting, a woman discreetly pulled me aside and whispered, "Aren't you going to do something, Mrs. Myers? Quinn's stuck to Mr. Myers' side like a leech every day. Rumors are spreading throughout the entire company."

I looked at Jonathan and Quinn, who were standing a distance away, clinking glasses with each other. I smiled and said, "Let them spread."

The woman was stunned. She probably didn't expect me to respond that way.

However, what the woman didn't know was that I had investigated Jonathan and Quinn some time ago.

Jonathan's name was on the deed of the apartment unit that Quinn was living in.

Jonathan and I had bought that unit two months after we got married.

On the day we registered our marriage, he had awkwardly pulled out a prenuptial agreement, saying, "Mom wants us to sign this. If we don't, she won't approve of our marriage."

He told me that the agreement was the compromise that he and his mother, Jasmine Hart, had reached after a long discussion.

However, he also promised to hand over every single cent he made to me after we got married.

I penned my signature on the so-called prenuptial agreement with my hands that only knew how to save other people.

I had no idea that on the other side of the paper wasn't the law but human nature.

Thinking back on it, the agreement couldn't stop Jonathan from purchasing property or funding another person's lifestyle. It only served to stop me from intervening.

…

One day, when I was three months pregnant, I was throwing up terribly.

Jonathan put on his coat and left the house after he received a call. He only came back in the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol and perfume.

When I asked him where he had gone, he calmly answered, "Quinn had too much to drink. I went to pick her up."

When I remained silent, he added, "Don't overthink this. She's all by herself in Cliffton. She has no one to rely on. I can't just leave her to fend for herself."

So, Quinn was all alone and had no one to rely on.

"But what about me?" I thought to myself. "I'm pregnant with your child. I have to watch over this empty house by myself while waiting till the wee hours of the morning for you to come home. Did I not matter?"

####CHAPTER-NAME: