A week before our wedding, my fiancee, Lauren Blair, went to the hospital for a prenatal checkup. She was accompanied by her newly hired assistant, Ian Kane.

Coincidentally, she ended up being assigned to my clinic.

I stood there holding Lauren’s pregnancy report in my hand, staring through the narrow gap in the door at the two of them outside.

Ian pulled her into his arms by the waist, confessing with aching tenderness, "Lauren, I love you."

"I love you too, Ian. I'm only married to Sam because of the circumstances I’m stuck in, but you've always been the one who holds my heart."

I stopped hesitating. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my father.

"Dad, I accept the marriage alliance with Ms. Sheridan. The wedding date can remain. Just change the bride."

From the clinic window, I looked down and saw Lauren Blair already walking out of the hospital with Ian Kane holding her arm.

I picked up my phone and called her.

"Are you coming home tonight?"

She answered instantly. "I’m not. Something urgent came up at work, so I have to stay late."

My eyes drifted back to the couple embracing on the sidewalk. "Are you feeling unwell? I think I just saw you at the hospital."

Lauren’s hand paused midair as she straightened Ian’s tie. She looked around quickly. When she didn’t see me anywhere, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"No, you must’ve seen wrong. I’ve been in meetings at the office all day."

My vision blurred for a moment. "You sound like you’re in a pretty good mood. Did something good happen today?"

Her voice turned cold. "No. Anyway, I’ve got other things to deal with at work. I’m hanging up."

And she did—just like that.

Ian carefully helped her into the passenger seat, and the two of them drove away together.

I stared at the scene in front of me, my mind replaying the words she had whispered to Ian with such devotion.

"Ian, I love you. I'm only married to Sam because of the circumstances I’m stuck in, but you've always been the one who holds my heart."

My chest felt like it was filled with tiny, stabbing needles, and my tears slipped down before I could stop them.

That afternoon, when I left the hospital and went home, I unexpectedly found Lauren there.

For a moment, hope rippled faintly through me, but it vanished the moment she opened her mouth.

"I’ll be staying at the office for the next few days. I’m just here to grab some clothes."

The reddish marks blooming along her neck were impossible to miss. They exposed her lie instantly.

Nevertheless, I didn’t call her out. Instead, I helped her pack her clothes and toiletries.

Seeing me so calm, devoid of any anger or accusation, made her pause. "I made dinner for you. I’ll make sure to come back before the wedding."

She stepped toward me as if to hug me.

However, I shifted aside and asked the question that had been lodged in my chest, "Do you really have to stay at the office? We’re getting married in just a week."

Lauren’s expression darkened. "The company is struggling with cash flow. There’s a lot going on. Can you stop being so childish and quit causing trouble for me every day?"

She grabbed her suitcase and slammed the door behind her.

I stood there, stunned, unable to recover for a long time.

Lauren and I had grown up together. Since we were kids, I had always loved trailing behind her. She used to treat me well, too.

In elementary school, when the other boys bullied me because I was chubby, she would step in front of me and scold the boys who were bigger and taller than she was.

In high school, when I struggled with my grades and felt crushed by the pressure, she helped me study, pulled my scores up, and even took me traveling during school breaks so I could relax.

When did all of that start to change?

It was after Ian joined her company as her assistant.

Two years ago, I brought her a homemade lunch at work.

She tossed it into the trash with a look of disgust, saying it didn’t even look edible, then turned around and ate the takeout Ian had ordered for her. I confronted her over it, but she shielded Ian behind her and slapped me. She told me never to come back to her company again.

A year ago, she gave my winter coat to Ian. I ended up standing out in the freezing snow wearing only a thin dress shirt. I ended up being hospitalized that night.

Six months ago, we went to try on wedding outfits together. Halfway through, Ian called, and she left me alone in the bridal shop. I endured the stares and whispers and picked out the wedding attire by myself. Later, I found out she had gone to the beach with Ian instead.

Once upon a time, I naively believed that as long as I treated her well, listened to her, and avoided upsetting her, she would eventually turn over a new leaf and fall in love with me again. I thought that she would remember what we used to be, and we could go back to how things were.

In the end, I was the only one living in those memories.

Her prenatal report felt like an invisible slap across my face. Ian’s confession was a knife driven straight into my heart.

Even now, with the wedding so close, she still chose Ian.

How ridiculous.

In these five years of loving her, I was the only one giving anything.

Even so, in Lauren’s eyes, what did any of that mean?

An obstacle in her love life?

A burden?

A problem she had to deal with?

I didn’t hesitate anymore. I took out my phone and sent a message to my father, Lewis Sawyer.

"Dad, I accept the marriage alliance with Ms. Sheridan. The wedding date can remain. Just change the bride."

My father once told me that Lauren wanted to marry me so that he would invest in her family’s company, Blair Dynamics Corporation, but at the time, I refused to believe it.

Now I was forced to accept the truth. It was precisely because Blair Dynamics Corporation's finances couldn’t keep afloat that she ended up forcing herself into a marriage with a man she didn’t even love.

If that was the case, then I might as well fulfill their secret office romance.

At the dining table, I opened each of the takeout containers Lauren had brought home. One glance was enough for me to recognize them instantly as Ian’s favorite Chinese takeout.

Leftovers. All of them spicy.

She remembered what Ian liked to eat, but she didn’t remember that I couldn’t handle spicy food, and she used whatever was left over to brush me off.

After a full day at the hospital, I was exhausted. I didn’t complain. I forced down a few bites and went to bed early.

In the middle of the night, I woke up doubled over with stomach pain, curling into myself under the blanket.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and called Lauren, wanting her to come home and take me to the hospital, but no matter how many times I dialed, the call wouldn’t go through.

Enduring the pain, I got up and spent nearly ten minutes just to make it to the living room for a glass of warm water. I leaned weakly against the sofa, trying to ease the ache.

Suddenly, my phone chimed, breaking the silence of the night.

It was a friend request from Lydia Sheridan, the eldest daughter of the Sheridans.

The Sheridans and the Sawyers had been close for generations. When we were kids, Lydia used to trail after me, calling me "bro". After that, she went abroad for school. By now, it had been nearly twenty years since we last saw each other.

I hesitated, then accepted the request.

The moment I did, a message came through.

"Why are you still awake so late?"

I answered honestly. "Stomach pain."

"Come outside. I’ll take you to the hospital!"

My heart jolted. My eyes flicked toward the door.

Did that mean… she was right outside my apartment?

Before I could make sense of it, Dad called. "Sam, I heard from Lydia that your stomach hurts?" His voice was full of worry.

"Yeah. A bit. It’s better now."

Dad was overseas at the moment, in a time zone opposite ours, so his call didn’t surprise me.

"I got your message last night agreeing to the marriage alliance and immediately told the Sheridans. I didn’t expect Lydia to fly back without saying a word, go straight to your building, and wait downstairs for so long.

"Then she called me the moment she heard you were in pain. She was afraid you’d try to tough it out and refuse to go to the hospital, so she told me to convince you."

Hearing that, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t moved. However, that was all I felt—just moved.

At the hospital, Lydia stayed with me while I got examined, then took care of all the payments. By the time she finally returned to my bedside, her face was clearly exhausted.

I felt embarrassed. "Thank you. You’ve been running around all night. You should go home and rest. I can handle sitting here alone for the IV drip."

The light in Lydia’s eyes dimmed for a second, but she still followed my lead.

"Alright. Rest first. After your IV bag finishes, I’ll come back and take you home."

I nodded. After she left the room, I pulled the blanket up and closed my eyes, drifting to sleep.

At dawn, I was jolted awake by my phone ringing. It was Lauren.

"Sam, even if you’re acting out, there’s a limit. Where did you run off to? Why wasn’t I able to find you at home this morning?"

Her sudden interrogation left me speechless for a moment.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t called her last night, but she didn’t spare even a single word of concern.

Bitterness rose sharply in my throat.

I explained weakly, "I ate something spicy last night, and my stomach condition flared up. I was at the hospital getting an IV."

She went silent for three seconds. "You’ve been hooked up all night. It should be finished by now. Come home."

I looked up at the IV bag, which was still a third full. "Yeah. I’m heading back."

After ending the call, I pulled out the needle and left the hospital.

The moment I stepped inside the house, I saw Lauren leaning against the sofa with a gift box beside her.

My gaze slid past it and landed on her. "Why did you come back?"

If this were before, I would’ve wished she came home every day. I would’ve wanted nothing more than to cling to her endlessly, but now I asked the opposite.

Lauren felt a flash of displeasure, though something else quickly overshadowed it.

"I want your creamy seafood chowder. Make it and pack a serving for me."

A quiet suspicion stirred inside me. This wasn’t something she wanted. This was something Ian wanted.

I had once stumbled across Ian’s Instagram, where he shared what he ate every day. Among those posts was creamy seafood chowder, the same one I always made for Lauren to take to work.

As I walked into the kitchen, I pretended to speak casually. "Creamy seafood chowder, huh? That reminds me of something interesting.

"One of my patients the other day almost miscarried because she accidentally ate too much leftover shellfish her mother-in-law brought home from a restaurant. Pregnant women should be careful about shellfish contamination.

"Despite all that, the mother-in-law still blamed the restaurant’s chef. Isn’t that funny? Fortunately, the baby made it."

I glanced back at Lauren and saw her face instantly drain of color. That confirmed everything I had suspected.

I thought I had gone numb, but pain still surged through my chest in sharp waves, and my eyes turned hot with an ache I couldn’t swallow.

I turned away, steadied myself, and forced my voice back to neutral as I rinsed the ingredients.

Behind me, Lauren’s cold voice cut through the air. "Don’t bother cooking. I don’t want it anymore. That gift on the table is for you. And you’re coming with me to a luncheon meeting at noon."

With that, she turned and walked out.

I set down what I was holding, my eyes drifting toward the gift box as a faint, self-mocking smile pulled at my lips.

She didn’t remember that I couldn’t eat spicy food. How would she possibly remember that I didn’t even like wearing watches?