“That’s not what I meant, honey.”

Brynn’s voice carried a hint of panic, his expression stiffening with unease.

“Daddy, it’s okay if Auntie doesn’t like me,” Solomon murmured softly, his lashes trembling, looking like he might burst into tears.

Seeing that, Brynn’s heart seemed to soften.

He glanced at me, his eyes filled with helplessness and a quiet plea.

“Honey, can you try to accept Solomon?”

“I’ve already locked the snake away,” he added. “Just keep him company for a bit, okay?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I walked over to Solomon and gave him a cursory glance.

“What do you want to play?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze shifted upward, and a strange smile twisted at the corners of his mouth.

Sensing something was wrong, I instinctively tried to step back, but before I could, he suddenly pulled something from behind his back.

It was a live snake.

Its skin was cold and slick, its tongue flicking out with a hiss. Solomon held it by the tail with two fingers, and without a second thought, he flung it toward me.

“Ah!”

I screamed, my heart hammering in my chest, and I stumbled backward, crashing to the floor. A sharp pain shot through my back, and my head slammed into the edge of the coffee table.

Even worse, a searing pain sliced through my lower abdomen as if a hundred knives were carving through my flesh.

Clutching my stomach, everything went black, and the world around me faded.

“…It hurts… it hurts so much…”

I curled into a ball, the waves of pain crashing over me, cold sweat soaking my back.

“Honey!”

Brynn rushed over, his face drained of color, eyes wide with alarm. “What’s wrong?!”

“I’m pregnant…” I lifted my face toward him, tears spilling down uncontrollably.

He froze for a moment, his face draining of color, turning as white as a sheet. Without a word, he scooped me up and rushed out the door.

Solomon stood there, frozen, his eyes dark with malice no child his age should possess.

Outside the operating room, in my dazed state, I vaguely heard the doctor’s hushed voice.

“The fetus is gone.”

“There’s been excessive bleeding; she’ll need rest and observation.”

I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face, soaking the pillow beneath me.

Even though I had already decided to end the pregnancy, the sudden loss still crushed my chest, leaving me gasping for air.

Baby, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of this.

When I awoke, I was alone in the hospital room.

The door creaked open, and Brynn stood in the doorway, looking drained, holding a cup of warm water in his hand.

“Honey, why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

That was the first thing he said.

I stared at him, the absurdity of his words washing over me.

“So now you’re blaming me? Blaming me for not telling you sooner that I was pregnant? Your son threw a snake at me, and now I’m at fault?”

He paused, his expression softening for just a moment, before he lowered his voice, almost as if changing his tune.

“That’s not what I meant, honey. You don’t know how terrified I was when I saw you bleeding; I was so afraid of losing you. From now on, let’s just focus on raising Solomon. I don’t want you to go through the pain of pregnancy again.”

I turned my head away, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me.

He was still playing the part of the loving man.

“But honey, Solomon didn’t mean it…” Brynn explained softly.

“He said he thought you liked animals; it was just a misunderstanding. Don’t be too hard on him, okay? He’s still a child. He might even be the only child we ever have—”

I bit my lip so hard it nearly bled.

“So that’s it? It’s over? He scared me with a snake. I lost our baby, and that’s how it ends?”

Brynn stood there, speechless, unable to find a response.

The silence was broken by Sylvie entering, carrying a steaming bowl of carrot and chicken soup, her voice soft and gentle.

“Sister-in-law, you’ve just had a miscarriage, and your body is weak. I stewed this for two hours.”

Her mention of the miscarriage brought a brief flicker of relief in her eyes.

I glanced at the bowl, my vision clouded by a familiar sting.

Carrots. The one thing I had hated since childhood.

Brynn didn’t notice. He coaxed gently, “Honey, just drink a little. Don’t be stubborn; you need to nourish your body now.”

I raised my hand and sent the bowl crashing to the floor, the hot soup splattering across the tiles, filling the room with its sweet, meaty scent.

“I said I’m not drinking it.” I gritted my teeth. “Do you not understand what I’m saying?”

“Natalie!” Brynn finally snapped.

“You’re emotionally unstable because of the miscarriage, I get that. But you can’t take it out on Sylvie! She worked hard to make this soup!”

I shut my eyes, not wanting to face either of them.

“Fine. You stay here and calm down.”

Brynn’s voice turned icy as he dragged the pitiful-looking Sylvie out of the hospital room.

In the days that followed, he didn’t come near me.

I saw Sylvie posting pictures of Brynn taking her and Solomon to Disneyland on social media.

I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

Brynn’s love for me had never been as deep as I had imagined.

All the warmth I thought I saw had been filtered through my own blind affection for him. When my postpartum confinement ended, I returned to that house, no, their house.

I opened the storage room and began slicing my wedding dress, piece by piece, with scissors.

Wedding photos? Gone.

Videotapes? Gone.

All the foolish keepsakes? Thrown to the floor.

Everything that held memories of sweetness between me and Brynn shattered it all.

The last thing I shattered was the glass photo frame I always kept by my bedside.

With a sharp crack, it hit the ground, and the glass splintered into a spiderweb of cracks, slicing into my calf.

Blood began to trickle down in a winding path, staining my slippers red.

The housekeeper had stood frozen in shock since I started destroying everything, and when she saw the blood, she panicked and secretly called Brynn.

He rushed back, his footsteps frantic. The moment he entered, he saw me leaning against the sofa, expression indifferent, my leg stained with blood.

“Honey!”

He hurried over, scooping me into his arms and placing me on the sofa. His voice shook, “What happened? How did you get hurt?”

I lowered my gaze, murmuring, “I accidentally cut myself.”

“Accidentally? How did you break so many things?” His eyes flickered to the shattered wedding photos on the floor, his heart tightening.

“Are you angry with me? Are you upset that I’ve been away these past few days?”

I didn’t answer. I simply shifted my leg, pulling away from his reaching hand as he tried to apply the ointment.

He grabbed my ankle and began wrapping it carefully, his expression more flustered than mine.

“Don’t move; let me do it. It won’t hurt.”

As he dabbed disinfectant onto the wound, he spoke quickly, almost breathlessly, “I know I was wrong. I’ve really neglected you these past few days, but it’s not because I don’t care. I’ve just been caught up in Solomon’s matters.”

“If you’re angry, take it out on me. Yell at me, scream at me, just don’t hurt yourself, alright?”

His hands were gentle as if he feared I might shatter with the slightest pressure.

“We can retake the wedding photos, reshoot the video, or do whatever you want. Anything you don’t like, we’ll change. Just don’t do this to yourself again.”

I looked at him in silence for a long moment, then slowly gave a nod.

Yes, anything I didn’t like could be changed.

And from now on, I wouldn’t be the one hurting myself anymore.

Seeing me nod, Brynn finally exhaled, like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Honey, I’m so glad you’re not mad anymore. Come here, let me hold you.”

He pulled me into his arms, burying his face against my neck like a child needing comfort.

But I had a feeling he wasn’t done yet.

Sure enough, later on Instagram, he said, “Honey, I’m turning thirty soon. I’m planning to use my birthday to publicly announce Solomon’s identity, to let the world know he’s my son.”

“After the celebration, I’ll take you both on a vacation to the island. Didn’t we buy a private island a while ago? We never got the chance to go, but now’s the perfect time.”

He smiled, eyes shining with anticipation.

“Didn’t you always say how wonderful it would be to wake up every morning to the sound of waves and sunlight pouring into the room?”

“Let’s go there together, the three of us, as one happy family, alright?”

I leaned back against the sofa, my head spinning slightly.

“Okay,” I replied softly.

You three go together happily as a family.

And I, the outsider, would quietly disappear.

He seemed stunned for a moment, as though surprised I agreed so easily. Slowly, a smile crept onto his face.

“Honey, what birthday gift are you preparing for me this year?” Brynn looked at me with expectation in his eyes.

I curved my lips and answered, “A surprise.”

His eyes lit up instantly. He pulled me into his arms, whispering about how wonderful I was.

These past few days, he had been occupied helping Sylvie with her inheritance matters, everything had finally been settled today.

That meant he no longer needed to maintain that marriage.

He could, just like the fortune teller said, divorce Sylvie when he turned thirty.

Then, he could officially become my husband, in name and in law.

But I didn’t know that was what he had in mind.

And he didn’t know I had once planned to tell him about my pregnancy as his birthday surprise.

But now, I had already spoken with my father.

On his birthday, I would go home and fulfill the arranged marriage.

Perhaps because Brynn’s birthday was drawing near, Sylvie began to lose her grip. She started provoking me on purpose, trying every trick to get under my skin.

The day before his birthday, she walked downstairs holding a stack of folders. It was as if, by accident, a few papers had slipped from her hands and scattered right at my feet.

Looking down, I saw a photocopy of a marriage certificate.

She bent down in a hurry, pretending to be flustered, and muttered, “Oh no, it fell down. Sorry. I was making copies for my ID renewal and forgot to put it away.”

I said nothing. I didn’t even lift my eyes.

She paused, clearly thrown off, then forced a smile and added,

“Sister-in-law, you probably didn’t see it clearly, right? I look terrible in the photo, so embarrassing.”

She kept her eyes locked on mine, desperate to find a crack in my expression, a flicker of emotion, a hint of jealousy. But there was nothing.

I closed my book and replied coolly, “Didn’t see it. Pack up your things and leave the room.”

Sylvie stood frozen, lips trembling, before biting down in defeat and walking away with her tail between her legs.

But she wasn’t finished.

That afternoon, as I headed out to run a few errands, I passed the garden and caught the voices of a few elderly women chatting away:

“That little boy, Solomon, right? He’s the spitting image of his father! Especially those eyes, just like how Mr. Brynn looked when he was young.”

“More than that, I think he even resembles his god-sister. The nose, the corners of the mouth, it’s uncanny. Like they were cut from the same mold…”

“Anyone who didn’t know better would think they’re the real married couple.”

I stood quietly by the wall, sipping from a glass of water.

The reflection on the glass mirrored my blank expression.

Of course, Solomon looked like them.

He was their child.

It was clear then Sylvie had begun to panic.

She feared I wouldn’t walk away from Brynn. And if I stayed, all her careful schemes would crumble into dust, leaving her with nothing.

So she made a gamble, one last reckless move to push me out for good.

On the day of the birthday banquet, the hall brimmed with guests.

Sylvie stepped in, bold and brazen in a striking red dress, holding Solomon’s hand like a queen making her grand entrance, like she was claiming her throne for all to see.

“Mommy, can we sit here?”

“Yes, Solomon, be good.”

She smiled, poised and radiant. Solomon’s voice rang out, “Mommy!”

Heads turned instantly.

The crowd stirred into a frenzy.

“Wait, wasn’t Sylvie supposed to be Brynn’s god-sister? That boy’s already so big?”

“Didn’t Brynn always date Natalie? Since when did the kid start calling Sylvie ‘Mommy’?”

“Divorced? When did that happen? I’ve never heard a word!”

“God-sister? More like a mistress in disguise!”

Brynn’s face went rigid. Just as he moved to stand and explain, Solomon clutched Sylvie’s leg tightly and shouted even louder, “She’s my real mommy! Aunt Natalie isn’t! Daddy, can Mommy live with us too?”

A heavy silence fell across the room like a curtain.

The elders looked at each other, confused and uneasy.

Even Brynn’s friends were at a loss, exchanging puzzled glances.

Brynn stood frozen. Solomon, suddenly defiant, kept calling Sylvie “Mom.”

He tried calling me, hoping I would pick up and clear the air.

But all he got was a cold, mechanical voice. “The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable.”

His brows knitted together. Before he could dial again, whispers stirred nearby, “I think they really divorced. Natalie just posted on her Instagram.”

“What?!”

Brynn’s voice caught in his throat. His fingers trembled as he yanked out his phone and pulled up my page.

Right at the top is my all-too-familiar account.

Staring back at him was a red marriage certificate.

That bright crimson cover scorched his eyes like a brand, burning straight through him.

Then, his eyes dropped to the name etched below, Natalie.

And the groom’s name wasn’t his. It wasn’t him.

His world rang with a hollow roar, like a dam bursting inside his chest. He stood frozen as though something had been ripped from him, leaving only silence in its wake.

With shaking hands, Brynn tapped on the photo.

The man standing beside me had a clean, handsome profile, tall and upright, with a soft gaze aimed at the camera.

I stood beside him, wearing a smile long lost to time.

Below the image was a simple caption. [From now on, stepping into a new life.]

His gaze froze.