I hung up the phone and turned it off.

With nothing but my ID and a few things I'd prepared for the baby, Claire and I left the home I'd lived in for three years.

I didn't want to burden her, so I headed to a nearby hotel. Claire had already covered my hospital bills. I emptied every pocket I had and still couldn't scrape together enough for a single night's stay.

That was the moment it hit me — I was nothing. A woman who couldn't survive without Ethan Sterling. Without him, I was completely helpless.

Claire saw me struggling. She took my arm, walked me out of the hotel lobby, and brought me back to her apartment.

"Stay here. Rest. Heal. Whatever comes, we'll face it together."

I broke down in her arms and sobbed.

In the weeks that followed, I didn't contact Ethan. Not once.

It took him a full month to show up at Claire's door.

"You've had a month to cool off. That's enough, don't you think? Stop throwing a tantrum. You know perfectly well you can't survive without me." He softened his voice. "Come on. Be good. Come home."

I stepped back, dodging his outstretched hand.

His brow furrowed deeply.

"You're really going to keep living at a friend's place with our daughter? You're fine with her drinking cheap formula? Wearing bargain diapers? Doesn't it worry you that she might not develop properly?"

He paused to let that sink in.

"Your friend only makes five thousand dollars a month. She can't keep lending you money. And all it would take is one word from me to have her fired."

My ears started ringing.

"You're... threatening me?"

Ethan let out a slow sigh.

"I've been with Iris these past weeks, helping her through treatment. I'll admit I haven't been there for you and the baby the way I should have. But I'm trying to get her better so she can move on with her life and stop interfering with ours."

Interfering?

I stepped forward and ripped open his shirt.

Fresh scratches — vivid, red, unmistakable — clawed across his chest.

The panic on his face was impossible to miss.

I stared at those marks. The wounds on my heart had barely begun to scar over, and now they were torn wide open again, raw and bleeding.

"What a creative way to repay a debt of gratitude."

My sarcasm wiped the composure right off his face. He tugged at his tie in agitation.

"She panicked during a treatment session. In her mind, I'm her husband. She was just reaching for me — looking for protection. She's innocent, Sophia. It's not as sordid as you're making it."

The words left his mouth and he froze, realizing what he'd just said. I stood there, stunned.

"So you think... I'm the one slandering her? Smearing her reputation?"

His jaw tightened.

"I'm just stating facts. Look — can we go home? I'm exhausted. I don't want to fight."

I wanted to refuse. God, I wanted to refuse. But I didn't have a cent to my name. I'd been living off Claire's generosity for a month. I had no leverage. No position to bargain from.

"Fine. I'll go back. But I owe Claire a hundred thousand dollars. Transfer it to her. Now."

Ethan didn't even blink. He sent Claire two hundred thousand and added a note: Thank you for looking after my wife and baby.

I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

Only after Claire confirmed the money had come through did I finally let myself exhale.

Ethan took the baby from my arms. She'd grown so much in a month — plumper, rosier, impossibly adorable. She waved her tiny pink fists at him, and I watched his whole expression melt.

He kissed her face again and again.

But then —

When we reached the front door, he placed her back in my arms.

"Iris isn't fully recovered yet. If she sees me holding the baby, it could set her back. So for now, we're just... two people living under the same roof. Strangers. I'll cover everything for you and our daughter, but we can't be seen being close. Do you understand?"

The words struck me like lightning.

The humiliation. The betrayal. They coiled around me like invisible chains, pulling so tight I could barely breathe.

Ethan rested both hands gently on my shoulders.

"Sweetheart, I just need Iris to get better. Once she's recovered, no one will come between our family ever again."

I let out a bitter laugh. I had no choice.

I followed him inside.

Iris was sitting on the sofa, wearing Ethan's shirt.

I recognized it instantly. It was the first birthday gift I'd ever given him. I'd embroidered our initials on the cuff by hand. He'd told me once that it was the most precious gift he'd ever received — that no one else was allowed to touch it.

But now Iris hadn't just touched it. She was wearing it against her bare skin.

I stood there, paralyzed, as she threw herself into Ethan's arms, her hands looping naturally around his neck.

"Babe, where's my present?"

Ethan shot me an awkward glance, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a diamond bracelet.

I knew that bracelet. The Sterling family heirloom — the one that signified the matriarch of the next generation. The one Ethan had placed on my wrist himself, after Richard cut him off entirely and threatened to disinherit him for insisting on marrying me.

It was too valuable to wear daily. I'd kept it locked in the safe.

Iris dangled it from her wrist and flashed it at me.

"Even if you gave him a child, it doesn't change the fact that I'm the Sterling family's daughter-in-law."

Despair and heartbreak crashed over me all at once.

I swallowed the agony rising in my chest.

"Where is my room?" I asked. "Mine and the baby's."

Iris played the lady of the house to perfection, instructing a servant to show me and my daughter to a guest room.

The servant led us to the far end of the second floor — the room furthest from the master bedroom.

I said nothing. I made up the small bed for my daughter and gently laid her down.

The little one was so well-behaved. Not a single cry.

Ethan came into the room in the small hours of the morning.

Same as always, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, his hot breath grazing my cheek.

My stomach lurched.

Every touch of his was like a poisoned blade, carving into the softest part of my heart, over and over again.

The pain was unbearable.

He felt me stiffen and pulled back, confused.

He turned on the light.

"I asked the doctor. After one month, it's fine."

I sat up and looked at him, my gaze utterly flat.

My voice came out weightless, almost detached. "You broke your promise when I came out of the delivery room. I had an emotional breakdown, hemorrhaged, lost nearly three-quarters of my blood. My body is too weak right now. I can't do this."

With every word I spoke, the color drained a little more from Ethan's face.

He held me tight. I could feel his hands trembling.

"Babe, I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm a bastard. Hit me."

He grabbed my hand and slapped it hard against his own cheek.

I pulled my hand free without expression.

"It's done."

Perhaps to make amends, Ethan called the bank's customer service line right in front of me, and my supplementary card was reactivated. "I'm staying with you and the baby tonight."

The words had barely left his mouth when Iris's shrill voice pierced through the walls.

Ethan's jaw tightened with irritation.

"Go," I said. "I don't want the baby woken up."

He let out a quiet sigh, leaned down, and kissed my cheek.

"I'll be right back."

The moment he left, I rushed into the bathroom.

I scrubbed the spot where his lips had touched until the skin was raw and swollen. But my stomach still wouldn't stop churning.

That night went exactly as I'd expected. Ethan didn't come back.

The next morning, I was heading downstairs for breakfast when I ran into him stepping out of Iris's room.

Through the gap in the door, I caught a glimpse of her lying on the bed — bare back exposed, nothing but a thin sheet draped across her waist.

Something detonated inside my skull.

My legs buckled.

Ethan caught me before I hit the floor, pulling me into his arms.

"Nothing happened. I was sitting on the edge of the bed the whole time."

I pushed him away, careful not to let it show.

Then he saw my face.

Something seemed to click.

"You... You're that disgusted by me already?"

Disgusted?

It wasn't just disgust. It was revulsion.

"I'm going to eat breakfast."

I turned and walked downstairs. Before stepping into the dining room, I tossed my jacket into the trash.

He'd touched it. It was contaminated.

Ethan saw.

His fist slammed into the wall. Blood seeped from his knuckles.

Something inside him ached in a way he couldn't name.

Threaded through with a flicker of panic. Of dread.

After breakfast, I went back to my room to look after the baby. When I picked her up, her forehead was burning, and her tiny body was covered in red blotches.

I grabbed her and rushed to the master bedroom.

"Ethan, the baby — she's —"

Before I could finish, Ethan came barreling out with Iris in his arms.

His face was drawn with alarm. "Iris saw me talking to you this morning and convinced herself you were trying to seduce me again. She had an episode. I need to get her to the hospital."

I stepped in front of him.

"Something's wrong with the baby. Let me ride with you."

Iris bit her lip, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Ethan, please... I don't want to be in the same car as that homewrecker."

A flash of something — barely perceptible tenderness — passed through Ethan's eyes.

He looked at me. "It's probably just the new environment. The baby's adjusting. She's so little — she'll be fine. Let me take Iris to the hospital first, and I'll send someone to pick you up."

Before I could say another word, Ethan was already carrying Iris downstairs.

I looked down at the baby in my arms — gasping, struggling, in obvious pain — and bit back a scream of helpless fury.

Ten minutes passed. No one came.

I called Ethan, frantic.

It rang for a long time before he finally answered.

"Iris's situation is complicated right now. I can't be interrupted. Don't call again for a while."

Then the baby vomited blood.

The color drained from my face.

"Ethan, the baby — she —"

He hung up. When I called back, the phone was already off.

Despair and anguish closed in around me from every side.