I slit my eyes open just a little, looking at Elowen’s face, only to find it more unfamiliar than ever.

No wonder that when my fiancé cheated on me with Maya, the all-powerful Elowen suddenly began relentlessly pursuing me.

All that talk about secretly loving me for over a decade and begging me to marry him was nothing more than a ploy to stop me from ruining Maya’s happiness.

Another wave of contractions hit me, making my entire body tremble in pain. Before I knew it, my legs were forcibly spread apart and my most private part was completely exposed to the air.

A single tear slid down from the corner of my eye. Gathering all my strength, I grasped Elowen’s hand and pleaded in a trembling voice.

"I don’t want a natural birth… Please, let me have a C-section. I beg you… I won’t fight with Maya…"

Elowen froze for a moment, a flicker of guilt flashing through his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an affectionate expression. He gently stroked my face and spoke tenderly, "Baby, are you so delirious from the pain that you’re talking nonsense? I chose a natural birth because it carries less risk than a C-section. I almost lost you just now. I can’t take that risk again."

His voice was soft and soothing, yet his tone left no room for argument.

I opened my mouth in despair, but another wave of intense contractions left me paralyzed in pain.

Seeing my suffering, a trace of pity flickered in Elowen’s eyes.

"Don’t be afraid, baby. I’ll have the doctor give you a painkiller. You’ll feel better soon."

As soon as he finished speaking, Dr. Grove inserted a syringe into my body, injecting all the liquid inside.

But instead of easing the pain, it only intensified. It felt as if an invisible hand was forcefully trying to rip the baby from my womb. A searing pain tore through me, as if scissors were cutting me open. The agony was so overwhelming that I blacked out, only to wake up moments later.

"Push! Push! The head is out! Keep pushing…!"

Finally, just before I completely lost consciousness, the baby was born safely, its sharp cries echoing throughout the hospital room.

Through my blurred vision, I saw Elowen immediately turn to look at the child. When he noticed that the baby’s features resembled Maya, a rare smile appeared on his face.

He didn’t spare me a single glance throughout the entire process, letting me bleed uncontrollably, my body covered in blood, urine and filth, utterly wretched and disgusting.

When I woke up again, it was already the afternoon of the next day. Instinctively, I tried to move my legs, only to realize that my lower body felt completely numb like it wasn’t even part of me.

Remembering what Dr. Grove had said in the operating room, I felt a wave of despair crash over me.

At that moment, a familiar voice drifted in from outside the door.

"Elowen, why did you insist on having me switch the painkiller for a labor-inducing drug? You knew that this particular drug would damage her internal organs and now Callista can’t even produce milk. Don’t you think this has gone too far?"

"I wanted to make sure she couldn’t produce milk. How could I let my and Maya’s child drink her milk? What if the baby developed feelings for her instead? I absolutely won’t allow that to happen."

Scalding tears slid down my cheeks as my grip on the bed’s edge tightened so much that my fingers turned white.

No wonder the so-called painkiller had only intensified the agony. It had been a labor-inducing drug all along.

I glanced down at my chest. It was dry, sagging slightly, with no sign of milk production, completely unlike a mother who had just given birth.

"Maya has already chosen a name for our daughter, Yasha. Anyway, I won’t stay long. Maya is waiting to see the baby. I’ll let Callista take a quick look before taking the child to her."

Elowen’s voice rang out again as the door swung open. He walked in, holding a newborn in his arms.

Seeing that I was already awake, Elowen gazed at me tenderly and gently placed the baby in front of me.

"Baby, you've worked so hard. Our family has welcomed another little one. Look at this tiny face, it looks so much like you. I've already decided on a name for our baby. Let's call her Yasha. It suits her perfectly."

I stared at Yasha’s face, one that resembled both Elowen and Maya but bore no trace of me. The irony was almost laughable. I had endured nine months of pregnancy, risked my life in childbirth, yet the child I brought into this world belonged to Elowen and another woman.

And my real children? The ones who should have been mine? They had all been killed by Elowen’s own hands.

Before long, he used the excuse that my body had been weakened by multiple miscarriages and couldn’t produce milk, saying the baby had to be sent to a specialized nursery for care. He promised to bring me to see her once I recovered.

I said nothing. I simply nodded numbly. This child wasn’t mine. I had no reason to keep her by my side.

Seeing the hopelessness in my expression, Elowen’s eyes flickered with a strange emotion.

I knew it was the fleeting guilt of a man whose conscience had momentarily awakened after committing a heartless act.

Not long after Elowen left, I received a friend request and I instantly recognized it was Maya because her profile picture was a photo of herself holding a small white dog.

I found the dog quite familiar and instinctively opened Elowen’s Instagram account. I discovered his profile picture was the same dog, cropped from the photo of Maya.

No wonder such a proud person like Elowen would use a dog as his profile picture for five years. It was to match with Maya’s profile picture.

As soon as I accepted the friend request, Maya posted something.

It was a photo of her and Elowen, with her holding the baby that had been living in my belly for nine months.

The caption read. “Our family of three is reunited.”

I knew she posted it for me to see. When I scrolled down, I realized that these five years of my marriage were actually all related to Maya.

On the day I married Elowen, Maya posted a photo of our wedding bed with the caption.

“Sleep peacefully. This bed has already been tested by me and him and the quality is excellent.”

After my first miscarriage, when I was lying in the operating room being resuscitated, Maya also posted a photo of Elowen’s back as he was busy in the kitchen, with the caption.

“Having a brother is really great. I just mentioned period pain and he ran all the way overseas to take care of me.”

But that day, he told me he was on a business trip abroad and couldn’t come to take care of me.

The three miscarriages that followed all coincided with the days Maya posted on her photos. Every post was about how Elowen pampered her, either accompanying her to build a boring block tower, watching the aurora with her, or taking pictures of priceless gemstone necklaces for her.

As for me, he always brushed me off with different work excuses, leaving me to face the cold, lonely operating table alone. Meanwhile, I felt sorry for him, thinking his work pressure was too much and I told him to focus on handling things abroad without worrying about me.

Looking back now, I realize I was quite considerate, always clearing the way for them to have time to love each other.

I had no interest in scrolling further. After wiping away the tears from the corner of my eyes, I dialed my best friend’s phone in Yvermont State.

“You asked me before if I was willing to come over there as a dance consultant. I’ve thought about it and I want to go.”

“That’s great! Make sure you prepare well. I’ll come to pick you up in five days.”

After hanging up the phone, I contacted a local lawyer and asked them to prepare a divorce agreement for me.

For three consecutive days, Elowen didn’t come to see me, but Maya’s posts were constantly updated with their family of three’s daily life.

It wasn’t until the fourth evening that Elowen pushed a wheelchair into my hospital room and his first words were an apology. “Sorry, baby. There was an issue at the company these past few days and I’ve been too busy to come see you. But as soon as I finished, I came straight here to see you.”

His tone was sincere and earnest, with no hint of insincerity.

If it hadn’t been for the countless hickeys I saw beneath his collar, I might have been deceived by him once again.