“Really, I swear I will never steal him away from you. I know… the person he loves the most is still you.”

The kiss marks blooming across her collarbone were bright, raw, obscene.

I could almost hear the sound of my heart cracking open.

Facing the two of them, I was so stunned I couldn’t say a single word.

There were actually people in this world whose morals were this rotten?

This wasn’t a misunderstanding.

This was an insult.

A deliberate humiliation — dragging my marriage through the mud while forcing me to stand there and watch them flaunt their intimacy.

In that moment, the thought of divorce rose in my mind for the first time.

Five years of marriage, and I had never imagined we would end up here.

But that night, the thought kept returning, each time sharper than the last, slicing me open from the chest.

“Erick, I suddenly feel… you’ve become a stranger to me.”

My voice was as soft as a breeze, yet colder than ice.

I stepped back, as though retreating from a nightmare one footstep at a time.

Seeing my expression crumble, Erick hurried forward and grabbed me, babbling anxiously,

“Wren, don’t be like this. You’re overthinking. I was just helping her, that’s all. You’re the one I care about most.”

His touch made my skin crawl.

I jerked away instinctively.

“Don’t touch me.”

The words came out hoarse, almost a whisper, like I was pushing away something filthy.

“I feel sick.”

I shook off his hand the way one shakes off something rotten and decayed.

Then I turned and began walking toward the bedroom I once called my own.

He didn’t follow immediately.

From the stairs came Tara’s voice — soft, fragile, dripping with false kindness.

“Erick, you should go comfort Wren. I don’t want to cause any trouble between you two.”

“She just needs some time to calm down.”

Erick’s voice floated up, light and dismissive.

“She likes me so much. She’ll understand soon enough.”

That confidence — that utter disregard for my pain — made every step feel like crushing glass under my feet.

Two seconds later, he finally chased after me.

“Are you angry because I didn’t pick up our son? Is that why you’ve been giving me attitude?”

He sounded impatient.

“Why do you have to be so petty? Why are you making this so hard for me?”

Even when everything was his fault, I was always the one being blamed.

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “Right. It’s all my fault.”

I didn’t even bother looking at him.

Erick froze, as if he had never seen me like this.

He lowered his voice, putting on a strange, undeserved sadness.

“Tara just lost her husband. She’s falling apart. I was afraid she’d do something stupid, that’s why I went to her. You’re both so sensible, aren’t you? When I go back later, I’ll make it up to our son… our son will forgive me, right?”

If he had spared even one second to think of his son…

If he had looked back even once…

If he hadn’t been so completely consumed with Tara…

Our child would still be alive, not gone in the freezing wind on the side of the road.

I stopped walking. I didn’t turn around.

I simply said,

“Erick, your chance is gone.”

Then I kept walking, unwilling to waste another breath on him.

But Erick suddenly grabbed my arm, his voice rising in panic.

“What do you mean ‘gone’? Fine, I was wrong! I’ll pick him up from school every day starting tomorrow, okay? Just… don’t be so cold.”

In that moment, he actually sounded desperate.

But it was far too late for that.

If our son hadn’t died in that accident, maybe—maybe—I might have forgiven him.

But now?

Forgiveness was no longer possible.

“Erick, let’s find a time to get the divorce done.”

The moment those words left my lips, I shook off his hand, as if finally waking from a five-year-long dream. Without the slightest hesitation, I walked straight out.

Erick froze.

He stared at my back as though he finally sensed something slipping irreversibly through his fingers.

His brows tightened, like he wanted to hold on to something—but in the end, he said nothing.

He simply picked up his phone and dialed his secretary.

“Tina, prepare the most expensive model car. Send it to the house. For my son… so he won’t stay mad at me.”

His tone was light, dismissive even, as if pacifying a stranger’s emotions.

He didn’t know—

our son would never open that package again.

I went into the study, pulled out the marriage certificate, and was just about to contact a lawyer when my phone suddenly vibrated.

It was the group chat his buddies had created years ago just to welcome me.

“Sis-in-law, congratulations! You’re finally about to give birth!”

“Great news, we’re heading to the hospital right away to celebrate!”

I frowned, thinking for a second that my phone had malfunctioned.

Then another message popped up.

“Wrong group, idiot! This is the big sis group. Little sis is in the other chat!”

Three messages withdrawn.

The screen went dead silent.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

A pressure spread across my chest, so heavy it stole my breath—then pain started radiating across my abdomen.

So they had another group chat.

A group chat built secretly behind my back—

to welcome Tara.

Those same men who always called me “sister-in-law” with such respect…

In private, they had already crowned her “little sis.”

It was absurd.

Cruel.

Laughable.

I stormed out of the room, only to run into a servant rushing toward me.

“Madam, you’re awake? The young madam suddenly went into labor early. Sir has taken her to the hospital!”

I let out a cold laugh.

“Madam? Young madam? Who gave you the right to call her that?”

The servant trembled.

“It… it was Miss Tara. She said sir already agreed. She’s also the mistress of the house. Just that… you’re the first wife, she’s the second—”

I didn’t let her finish.

I headed straight for the garage.

By the time I reached the hospital, Tara had already given birth.

The hallway was crowded with Erick’s buddies, laughing and cheering as if it were a holiday.

“Erick, I bet the big sis still doesn’t know little sis has already given birth!”

“Don’t mention the big sis. If she hadn’t thrown a tantrum, Tara wouldn’t have gone into early labor.”

Erick was standing beside a baby bassinet, gazing at the newborn with a tenderness that felt foreign—unrecognizable.

His fingertips gently traced the infant’s cheek, his eyes soft, overflowing with affection.

“Such a beautiful baby,” he whispered.

“Kind of looks like you, Erick.”

“Don’t say that. If Wren finds out, she’ll overthink.”

On the bed, Tara’s makeup looked untouched, flawless—more like she’d come for a spa treatment than childbirth.

She lifted her eyes toward Erick, voice soft enough to drip.

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks. Whether she agrees or not, I meant what I said. Your child will take my surname and be recorded in our Xiao family genealogy.”

Erick lowered his voice.

“We need to finalize the divorce first. It won’t be difficult.”

“You’re not worried Wren will get angry?”

“Once the household registration is done, I’ll just marry her again. She’s obedient—she won’t make trouble.”

He smiled, calm and certain.

“If she does, I’ll just hide it from her.”

Tara’s eyes grew misty.

“Wren is such a kind person. She’ll definitely give us her blessing. I’ll truly be grateful to her.”

Someone beside them chimed in immediately:

“Sister-in-law’s love for Erick is something no one can compare to! Back then, to help Erick secure that project, she even dared to handle those old men at the banquet table—drinking, singing, entertaining them without so much as a frown.”

“And don’t forget the time Erick had that severe gastroenteritis and was rushed in for emergency surgery. She thought he was dying. She knelt outside the operating room and refused to leave, crying until her voice was completely gone. We all saw how deeply she cared.”

“With someone who loves Erick that much, how could she ever leave? This little thing? It’s nothing to her.”

Hearing this, Erick fell silent for a moment before pulling Tara closer, holding her protectively in his arms.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you and the child have a home.”

In that instant, standing at the doorway, it felt as though the entire world went silent.

I finally understood—

those who love the deepest are the ones most easily turned into a joke.

Watching him hold another woman in his arms, my fingers curled tightly at my sides.

How thoughtful he was.

He had already planned to give Tara a home.

Since he wanted to give—

how could I not grant it?

I was about to head to the cemetery to sit with my child, when the cemetery administrator suddenly called.

His voice was frantic, almost cracking.

“Ms. Wren! Someone is tampering with your child’s grave!”

For a second, it felt like lightning struck straight through my body.

My blood roared in my ears, and my heart slammed violently against my ribs.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t breathe.

I simply turned and ran—ran like I was tearing myself apart.

My child loved sunlight, loved daisies.

She once said that when she grew up, she wanted to plant an entire backyard of white flowers.

She never got the chance.

So I did it for her.

I didn’t put up a tombstone.

I used a sea of white daisies to build her little world—

the gentlest home I could give her.

But when I reached the depths of the cemetery, the sight before me nearly took my breath away.

Erick stood there.

Tara was nestled safely in his arms.

Two bodyguards were swinging shovels, ripping up my daisies—throwing them aside like trash.

My child’s urn sat carelessly on the muddy ground, stained with dirt.

My world collapsed.

“What are you doing!”

My scream tore out of me like something ripping open from the inside.

I rushed forward, shoving the bodyguards away, half-feral with panic.

Tara shrank deeper into Erick’s arms, her voice trembling pitifully.

“I heard someone say your child wasn’t really buried here… I didn’t believe it, so I told them to check if there were ashes inside. Without a tombstone, how was I supposed to know? Why are you yelling like that… you’re scaring me…”

Her delicate, trembling act—

yet her methods were more vicious than anyone’s.

I didn’t waste breath arguing with her.

I snatched a shovel and began digging wildly, ripping open the soil they had just filled.

This was my child’s place—

her only resting place.

No one could touch it.

No one could take it.

“Wren, have you lost your mind? Stop!”

Erick roared, seizing the shovel from my hands.

I lifted my face to look at him, my eyes frozen with hatred.

“Erick… calling you a monster is too much of a compliment.”

Then I fell to my knees and used my hands to dig.

Soil mixed with daisy stems wedged between my fingers—

and none of it hurt.