It was already dark when I got home. I fumbled to open the door and saw Bruce sitting in the living room, looking tired.

"Where have you been? Why are you back so late? Why didn't you cook dinner?"

I hid the hospital bag behind me and answered with my head down, "I just went out for a walk and didn't notice the time."

Bruce suddenly stood up and scolded me harshly.

"Daisy Hill, now that you don't work and don't earn money, can't you even do the housework? Did you go out to loiter on purpose, knowing that I would come back for dinner?"

With the child gone, our marriage completely fell apart.

I was completely dispirited and couldn't go out to work or interact with people. I could only rely on Bruce.

I tried to please him, "I'm sorry, I'll pay attention next time and won't forget. Can I cook for you now? It's not too late."

Bruce impatiently went back to the room and slammed the door loudly, "No need!"

After knowing that I could no longer conceive, I tried to bring up the idea of divorcing Bruce.

The Lowell family loved children so much that they shouldn't let me stop them.

Before I could mention it, my parents stopped me and warned me not to speak out of turn.

"Why do you mention divorce when the Lowell family doesn't? We don't agree! Dylan is about to get promoted at work. If you get divorced and lose the support of the Lowell family, how will Dylan fare in the company in the future?"

"Who would marry a divorced woman who can't have children? Do you want to rely on your parents?"

"If you divorce Bruce, you will never be allowed back into our family. You've harmed your child, and do you want to harm your brother?"

There was a big gap in family background between me and Bruce. Lowell family had a big, well-known company. If it weren't for Bruce's wholehearted love, I wouldn't have been able to marry into it.

But now, Bruce didn't love me anymore.

Even if I put the hospital's examination report in such an obvious place, he couldn't see it.

The illness was so severe that I had a splitting headache. In order not to make any noise at night, I bit out blood from my lips hard.

Bruce turned over restlessly, and finally couldn't bear it anymore and sat up, pulling on the bedside lamp to ask me.

"Daisy, what are you doing in the middle of the night? Do you know how annoying you are?"

My heart ached to the point of convulsions that I whispered, "I can't sleep."

My head hurt so much that I couldn't fall asleep.

Bruce sneered, "The child went into your dream to ask for your punishment. How could you possibly sleep? You should have died with him back then. It would have been better than living alone."

He forcefully threw a pillow at me and said, "I don't want to see you. If you can't sleep, then get out!"

I turned off the night light, hugged the pillow, and slowly left to sleep in the next room, which was a well-decorated baby room.

The baby room was well-decorated and everything was neatly arranged, without any signs of use.

I still remembered Bruce holding me and pointing to every corner of the room, talking about the room's decorations, with a gentle and hopeful sparkle in his eyes.

He was a different person than he was now.

I took out the painkillers the doctor prescribed for me from the crib. After taking them, I leaned against the crib and stared up at the sky-blue ceiling without saying a word.

After the intense pain faded away, my mind went blank. As I looked at it, I couldn't help but shed tears. My heart ached so much that it was hard to breathe.

Baby, I was guilty.

I would apologize to you soon.

Please, wait for me.

The doctor said that my illness was easily prone to complications of forgetfulness and amnesia, and told me to return to the hospital for a review as soon as I noticed it.

When I was in and out of the baby room eight times in one morning, just to deliver a bottle of prepared milk, I knew I was starting to forget things.

Every time I entered the room, I forgot why I came in, and when I was busy outside, I suddenly remembered, repeating this process eight times before finally completing the task.

I couldn't let this happen.

I bought a notebook and wrote down the tasks that needed to be completed each day every night.

Unfortunately, a few days later, I started to lose my memory and even forgot the notebook.

I had to start keeping a diary, recording my schedule every day.

Bruce was busy at work and he didn't go home often, which allowed me to hide this matter very well.

The time I almost got caught was when he came home suddenly, went into the study to get some documents, and saw me hunched over the desk writing something.

"Daisy, what are you doing here?"

I covered the contents of the diary with my hand and stammered, "Nothing, I haven't done anything."

"This is my place. You are not allowed to come in here in the future."

Bruce frowned and left coldly after saying this without looking at me.

I sighed and looked at the words in the diary. Three seconds later, I crossed them out with a pen.