After leaving that street, I returned to my bookstore.

Seven years ago, after I left the Jackson family, it was my husband, Ian Parker, who took me in. He was also the one who opened this bookstore for me.

My fingers absentmindedly traced the wood grain of the desk as my thoughts drifted back to seven years ago.

Back then, I was pregnant with Timothy's child.

Esther's chest hurt, and Timothy insisted on staying by her side.

I grabbed his arm and told him I wasn't feeling well. I asked him to take me to the hospital.

However, he shook me off and impatiently said, "Naomi, why are you so dramatic? Esther isn't feeling well. What's wrong with me taking extra care of her?"

The force of his shove threw me off balance. I tumbled down the stairs.

My stomach slammed into the sharp edge of a step. Pain shot through me, and I curled up on the ground.

He didn't even look at me once before turning around and leaving.

Lying on the floor, I felt something warm flowing out of my body. There was more and more of it.

I called his name repeatedly, but he never answered.

When I looked up, I saw Esther sitting in the passenger seat of his car through the window. She was looking at me through the window too.

She saw me falling down the stairs, me lying on the ground, and the blood pooling around me.

Yet she never warned Timothy.

She simply watched. She then smiled and rolled up the car window.

Once their car was gone, I dragged my bleeding body toward the front door.

I clawed into the grout lines between the tiles until my nails broke.

Ian happened to be driving by. When he saw me crawling on the steps, he panicked.

He carried me into his car and ran red lights all the way to the hospital.

But it was too late. The baby was gone.

When I woke up after surgery, Ian was the only one sitting beside my hospital bed.

The moment he saw my eyes open, he said calmly, "The baby's gone."

I stared at the ceiling. I felt completely hollow.

The next day, Timothy was about to accompany Esther overseas for recovery.

I climbed out of my hospital bed, pulled the IV needle from my hand, and returned to the Gibson residence.

Timothy was packing his luggage. When he saw me standing in the doorway, he frowned.

"What are you doing here?"

"Don't go." My eyes welled with tears as I grabbed his sleeve.

"Timothy, please don't go."

He shook me off.

"Naomi, can you stop making a scene?

"Esther isn't well. She needs to recover overseas. I can't leave her alone," he said impatiently.

He never noticed that my stomach was flat.

He never noticed that my face was pale or that my legs were trembling just from standing.

All he thought about was Esther.

Standing there in front of him, I suddenly felt calm.

I retrieved the divorce agreement from my purse and handed it to him.

Without even reading it properly, he signed it and tossed it back to me.

"Naomi, stop using such pathetic tricks to keep me around."

He then wheeled his suitcase away without a single glance back at me.

I watched him disappear through the doorway. The signed divorce papers were crumpled in my hand.

That night, it rained. I stood outside the Gibson residence until I collapsed.

When I woke up, Ian was beside me.

He said, "Naomi, come with me."

I nodded.

"Mommy!"

A sweet little voice suddenly pulled me out of my memories.

I looked up and saw my phone screen light up. It was a message from Ian.

[I just picked David up from school. I bought some cake too. We'll wait for you before we eat.]

I looked at the screen and smiled.

David Parker was the son Ian and I had. He was five years old.

I replied with a simple 'okay' and slipped my phone back into my pocket.

Just then, the wind chime above the shop door rang.

Esther stood in the doorway. Her hair was curled into large waves that cascaded over her shoulders, making her face look even paler and smaller.

When she looked at me, her eyes were filled with provocation and smug satisfaction.

"Naomi, it's been a long time."

I ignored her and continued organizing the books on the counter.

She wasn't bothered. Instead, she wandered around the store.

"Naomi, have you really fallen this far? Running a little bookstore like this? How much can you possibly make in a month?"

She turned around, looked at me, and smiled.

"I heard Timothy came to see you today. He even asked you to go back and have a baby for him, didn't he?"

I paused and looked at her in confusion.

My gaze made her falter for a second, but she quickly recovered and continued smiling.

"Don't get the wrong idea. He just needs a womb. You know better than anyone who he actually loves."

She stopped in front of me. She didn't even try to hide how proud she was.

"Naomi, you're nothing but a baby-making tool. I'm the only person he's ever loved."

I tightened my grip on the book in my hands.

"Esther, what exactly are you trying to say?"

She laughed and slowly circled the counter.

"Naomi, what are you even holding on for? Without the Gibson family, you're nothing.

"You're running this pathetic little bookstore. You probably can't even support yourself. And you're dragging around a burden on top of that–"

"Who are you calling a burden?"

"Oh? Did I hit a nerve?" She covered her mouth and laughed.

"Was I wrong? That kid you had with some random guy. What else would he be if not a burden?

"Timothy doesn't know, does he? Were you already pregnant with another man's child when you married that nobody?"

I heard a buzzing sound in my head.

"Esther, shut up."

"I'd rather not." She stepped closer. Smugness was written all over her face.

"Naomi, you got rid of Timothy's baby for that man, and now you're pregnant again.

"How do you have the nerve to act innocent in front of Timothy? Don't you find yourself disgusting?"

My hands were trembling.

No one knew better than Esther how I had lost my first baby.

She was sitting in that car. She watched me fall down the stairs through the window. She saw my blood flow across the ground. She watched me lying there and begging for help.

Back then, she had done nothing. She only watched.

Now she was twisting the story around.

"Esther, if you keep spewing nonsense, I'm not going to be nice about it."

She laughed so hard she nearly doubled over.

"Naomi, you're such a wretch. Timothy must have been desperate to settle for you."

I raised my hand and slapped her.

Esther covered her face with one hand. She was stunned.

Her eyes instantly welled up with tears.

"Naomi, how could you hit me?

"I came here out of kindness. I was trying to convince you to come back to the Jackson family. I'd understand if you didn't appreciate the gesture, but to hit me–"

Her gaze suddenly shifted to the entrance.

The familiar sound of leather shoes clacking rapidly against the wooden floor echoed through the shop.

Esther threw herself directly into Timothy's arms. Tears streamed down her face.

"Timothy, I was only trying to persuade Naomi to return to the Jackson family and apologize.

"I just told her she shouldn't have married another man and gotten rid of your baby. Then she got angry and pushed me–"

Timothy steadied her by the shoulders. His cold gaze landed on me.

"Naomi, was what Esther said true?

"Were you cheating on me all along? You got rid of my child for another man?"

I stood where I was. My entire body was shaking with anger.

"She's lying!"

Timothy frowned and looked at Esther.

She immediately pressed a hand to her chest. Her face turned pale as she leaned weakly against him.

"Timothy, my chest hurts. Naomi pushed me earlier. I might've gotten hurt–"

Timothy wrapped an arm around her. When he looked at me again, there was even more disgust in his eyes.

"Naomi, why would you push her?"

"I didn't push her!"

"If you didn't, why would her chest hurt?"

"Are you blind, Timothy?" My voice was trembling.

"Can't you see she's putting on an act?"

"Enough!" He roared before releasing Esther and grabbing my wrist.

"Naomi, you're coming with me to the hospital right now. You're getting rid of this baby.

"Then you're coming home with me and continuing your role as Mrs. Gibson, and you're going to give birth to a Gibson heir!"

I stared at him in disbelief.

"You're insane."

"I'm not." His voice was terrifyingly calm.

"Do you think you still have a choice?"

"Let go of me!" I tried to break free.

"Timothy, let me go!"

"No." His grip tightened.

"You're leaving with me today."

I struggled continuously but still couldn't break free. He squeezed even harder. The pain brought tears to my eyes.

Instinctively, I used my free hand to protect my stomach.

His gaze followed the movement, and his eyes darkened.

"Timothy, I'm married. My husband is Ian Parker."

"The baby I'm carrying is his. If you hurt me, he'll make you regret it!"

He froze for a second before laughing.

"Ian Parker? Naomi, have you lost your mind? If you're going to lie, at least make it believable."

"Why would Ian want you? You were discarded by the Gibson family!"

"I'm not lying!"

I finally freed my wrist and took two steps back.

"You're the one who signed the divorce papers seven years ago. I wasn't discarded by you. I was the one who stopped wanting you.

"I'm Ian's wife now, and this baby is his!"

Timothy's expression darkened.

"Naomi, don't push your luck."

He took a step closer, towering over me.

"You think dropping Ian's name is enough to scare me off?

"Who do you think you are? The Parker family would never want damaged goods like you."

I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.

Esther stood by the doorway and stared in shock.

"Naomi! H-How could you hit him?"

Timothy's head snapped to the side. A red handprint slowly appeared on his cheek.

He turned back to face me. His expression was frighteningly dark.

"Naomi, if you won't come to the hospital with me, we'll get rid of the baby right here."

He looked out the door. "Come in."

Four bodyguards dressed in black suits filed into the bookstore.

Leaning against the doorway, Esther couldn't hide the triumphant smile that flashed across her face. She quickly stopped smiling.

I backed into a corner. My palms were slick with sweat.

Timothy stood among the bodyguards and watched me coldly.

"I'll ask you one last time. Are you coming with me or not?"

I clenched my jaw and remained silent.

He nodded.

"Fine. Do it."

Two bodyguards started walking toward me, one from my left and the other from my right.

That was when a voice came from the entrance.

"Mr. Gibson, I don't think it's appropriate to threaten my wife in my bookstore."

Ian stood in the doorway. In his left hand was the hand of a five-year-old boy. In his right was a box of cake.

His gaze swept past everyone in the room before settling on me.

The little boy tilted his head and curiously stared at all the men in black suits.

"David, go to your mom."

The boy released Ian's hand and ran over to me before wrapping his arms around my leg.

"Mommy!"

Ian walked forward and stopped in front of Timothy.

The two men locked eyes.

One seemed cold and imposing, while the other was calm and refined.

Ian spoke first.

"Mr. Gibson, you've given my wife a fright."