Perhaps sensing Michelle’s change in attitude, Sigmund began sticking close to her over the next few days, hardly letting her out of his sight.

To make up for what happened that night, he booked a candlelit dinner aboard a luxury cruise.

The dining hall was decorated in a refined, old style, and beyond the windows stretched the endless ocean.

Just as the waiter brought over flowers and wine, Emily appeared, looping her arm around Sigmund’s with a delighted smile.

“What a coincidence, Sigmund! You’re here too?”

Michelle’s expression froze for a moment.

There was no such thing as coincidence.

This had clearly been planned.

No wonder he had suddenly suggested dinner on a cruise. He’d only wanted a chance to run into Emily.

“Miss Lowe, would you mind if I joined you?”

Michelle didn’t even have the chance to refuse. Sigmund had already pulled out a chair for Emily, looking more than pleased to have her there.

When ordering, Emily laughed teasingly. “You ordered all my favorite dishes again. Aren’t you going to ask Miss Lowe what she likes?”

Sigmund pushed the menu toward Michelle with a gentle smile. “Take a look. See if there’s anything you want.”

She shook her head. “You decide.”

Dinner felt endless, every bite tasteless. Emily and Sigmund chatted easily, completely absorbed in each other, while Michelle sat there like an unwelcome guest.

Feeling suffocated, she got up and stepped outside, wandering into another part of the ship.

As she passed one of the private lounges, someone suddenly grabbed her and yanked her inside.

“You look familiar,” a man sneered. “Since you’re here, why don’t you join us for a drink?”

“Weren’t you the high-and-mighty Miss Lowe? Never took an invite before. Guess now that you’ve fallen, you don’t mind drinking with us after all.”

Michelle frowned. These men had been chasing her for a long time and still held a grudge for the humiliation she’d dealt them before.

“Sorry, I’m allergic to alcohol. I can’t drink.”

She tried to leave, but in the next moment they blocked the door.

A wave of fear rose in her chest and a chill ran down her back.

“Michelle, I’d advise you not to refuse a drink. No one’s protecting you now. What, don’t tell me you are relying on your sugar baby? Behave, and you’ll suffer less. Otherwise, don’t blame us for getting rough.”

When one of them lunged, Michelle’s breath caught and she kicked him hard between the legs.

She grabbed an ashtray to defend herself. “I warn you… Don’t touch me, or…”

“Or what? I don’t believe you can stop us.”

A fist struck Michelle across the face, making her head swim. She stumbled and couldn’t keep her balance.

They shoved her to the floor; her forehead slammed into the corner of a table and blood spurted out.

The sight of blood only excited them more. They whistled and forced alcohol into her mouth.

“I’ll devour you tonight. You used-up whore. Don’t act so damn innocent...”

Before he could finish his sentence, the private room door flew open.

Someone had kicked it in anger.

Sigmund saw the scene and his eyes went blood-red as he stormed in and punched one of the men hard in the face.

“How dare you touch my woman? You’re asking to die!”

He went wild, beating the man until he was covered in blood.

Then, with one last kick, Sigmund crushed the man’s face under his shoe, forcing him to kneel and apologize to Michelle.

Only when the others stepped in to pull him back did he finally relent, scooping the blood-soaked Michelle into his arms and rushing her out.

On the way to the hospital, he carefully wiped the blood from her forehead, his hands trembling. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve taken you there. This is all my fault.”

Michelle no longer knew how much of what he said was real or just another act.

She only knew that none of this had happened by coincidence.

Among those men, at least one had clearly recognized Sigmund.

Otherwise, they never would’ve backed off so easily.

Her eyes reddened as she asked softly, “You picked a fight with them for me. Aren’t you afraid they’ll come after you?”

Sigmund pressed his forehead to hers, his voice low and strained. “I’m not afraid. Nothing matters more than you.”

If she hadn’t already known he’d been lying to her all along, she might have been moved to tears by that line.

But sadly, every word out of his mouth felt hollow now.

The car was silent until his phone rang, shattering the moment.

The change in his expression was instant. His body went rigid, his face darkened.

“Michelle, can you go to the hospital by yourself?”

She froze, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.

He pulled the car to the side of the road and hurried out. His figure grew smaller in the rearview mirror until it vanished completely.

Only then did Michelle start to laugh—softly at first, then through tears she couldn’t stop.

She remembered the voice she’d heard through the phone just moments ago.

“Sigmund, Emily’s in trouble. Please hurry back.”

After getting her wounds treated at the hospital, Michelle was called into the doctor’s office.

The moment she saw the report, it felt like a dull blade driving straight into her chest, each breath searing with pain.

How could this be possible?

She and Sigmund had always taken precautions, and even when passion got the better of them, she had always taken the pill afterward.

This baby couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“Doctor, please help me schedule the procedure as soon as possible.”

The surgery was set for three days later.

During the following days, Sigmund didn’t call her once in front of me.

When a message from Emily popped up on her phone, Michelle tapped her profile photo without thinking.

Emily’s social feed read like a love diary, documenting every tender moment between her and Sigmund since her return.

He cooked for her himself, feeding her each bite with care.

He brought her lavish gifts every day, just to keep her entertained during her hospital stay.

He searched through joke books, staying up late to tell her stories and make her laugh.

He cared for her with patience and warmth, even promising her a surprise once she was discharged.

Michelle stared blankly at the screen, and her mind drifted back to the early days with Sigmund.

Back then, she often came home drunk after business dinners, and Sigmund would wait outside the club to drive her home.

When she threw up, he was always the one by her side, cleaning up and comforting her.

She truly believed he had feelings for her—even if those feelings were built on money, she didn’t care.

But now she realized she’d been wrong all along. She had thought she was the one using Sigmund to fill the emptiness in her life.

In truth, she had been his greatest amusement.

That night, Michelle drank too much again.

She kept dreaming the same dream over and over—asking Sigmund if he would marry her and waiting endlessly for an answer that never came.

Anxious and heartbroken, she finally opened her eyes and saw his face, his eyes filled with a tangle of emotions.

“Why are you crying in your sleep again?”

Michelle touched her cheek and realized her face was wet with tears.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her heartbeat.

“I dreamt you said you didn’t love me. That you never planned to marry me.”

She said it casually, brushing it off as nonsense, missing the flicker of shock that crossed Sigmund’s eyes.

He pulled her into his arms, his tone laced with unease. “Is it because I haven’t been home these few days? You missed me, didn’t you? Don’t overthink it. Who else would I marry besides you?

“Baby, I just don’t have the means to give you the best right now. I don’t want you to settle for less. Once I’ve earned enough, I’ll propose to you right away. Okay?”

Michelle smiled against his chest, her tears spilling freely.

There was a time, after one of their passionate nights, when she had joked, “You’re so reckless every time. What if I end up pregnant?”

He’d taken her seriously and said gently, “I’d love for us to have a child. When I can give you a stable life, we’ll have one together.”

Michelle silently slipped out of his arms, but he quickly pulled her back to sit down beside him.

“Didn’t you say you liked this bakery’s cake? I waited in line for two hours to get it. Come on, try it.”

At that moment, a message from Emily popped up on her phone.

“How’s the cake? I only mentioned it in passing, and he ran off to buy it for me. I even told him to grab another one for you. It’s your favorite flavor, right?”

The amusement drained from Michelle’s eyes. She picked up the cake and tossed it straight into the trash.

Sigmund’s face darkened immediately, thinking she was still angry.

“Sigmund, I’m allergic to mango.”

A flicker of guilt crossed Sigmund’s face.

He pulled her into his arms, murmuring, “I’m sorry, baby. I got caught up and forgot. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The next day, he took her out, keeping the destination a mystery.

Half an hour later, Michelle found herself standing in a bridal boutique.

When she saw the carefully selected gown Sigmund had chosen, her eyes widened.

“What are we doing here?”

“You’ve always wanted to get married, haven’t you? I thought you could try on some dresses. If you like one, we’ll buy it.”

His tone was calm, almost casual, but Michelle’s heart twisted painfully.

What was the point of buying the gown? To put it on display?

She didn’t understand what he was planning, but she did need to pick a wedding dress for her own wedding.

So, she quietly went along, trying on one gown after another.

Finally, Sigmund pointed to the last one and told the clerk, “This one. Have it wrapped and sent to this address.”

He wrote down the address of the villa, then walked over and wrapped his arms around her.

His breath was warm against her ear, his voice low and husky. “Baby, you look beautiful in this.”

Michelle forced a light tone. “This dress must be expensive. I’ll pay for it.”

“It’s just a dress. I can handle that,” he said, taking her hand, only to realize the silver ring she’d treasured for years was gone.

A strange unease crept through him.

“Where’s the ring?”

Michelle pulled her hand back calmly. “I put it away. I didn’t want to lose it.”

“It’s not worth much. If it’s lost, I’ll buy you another. Baby, just give me a little more time. Once I’ve saved enough, I’ll get you a real diamond ring and propose to you properly.”

Hearing the same lie once was already enough.

All Michelle felt now was bitter irony and cold laughter in her heart.

Sigmund’s fingers brushed over the faint mark where her ring had once been.

He lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss against it.

Then, glancing past Michelle, his expression suddenly changed.

“Baby, try on a few more dresses. I’ll go grab us something to eat.”

Before she could respond, he let go of her and hurried out of the store.

Sensing that something was wrong, Michelle quickly changed and followed him.

When she finally caught up, her breath caught in her throat.

At the intersection ahead, a terrible crash had occurred.

Emily lay in a pool of blood, and Sigmund—injured himself—was cradling her tightly, refusing to let go.

When the paramedics arrived, both of them were rushed toward the ambulance.

With what little strength he had left, Sigmund gripped a nurse’s hand and rasped, “Save her first…”

Michelle stood frozen as the ambulance sped away, her mind blank.

“I think they were fighting,” a bystander said nearby. “The woman ran into the street out of anger, and the man tried to save her. Looks like he took the worst of it.”

“Yeah, I heard him begging her to forgive him before it happened. Guess they both paid the price.”

Michelle’s head buzzed.

She clutched her chest, bending over as a sharp, tearing pain spread through her heart.

Only then did she understand what it looked like when Sigmund truly loved someone.

A weak smile tugged at her lips—no anger or bitterness, just a hollow kind of irony for the three years she’d spent blind.

Her phone rang. The voice on the other end was steady and detached.

“Miss Lowe, your procedure is scheduled for ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Please arrive at the hospital in advance.”