Raphael was always busy with work, so Gabriel took it upon himself to look after me and Lucia.

He bought me a bunch of new clothes and handbags as he promised, "Don't take it the wrong way. It's not that I don't love you anymore; it's just that Raphael can't step away from work right now. Plus, he doesn't trust anyone else to take care of Lucia. You understand, don't you?"

When I didn't answer, he wrapped his arm around my waist, his warm breath brushing against my neck. "Come on, don't be mad at me. In a couple of days, I'll take you to church to pray for your safety and well-being."

What he didn't know was that I wasn't angry; I was just numb. I had already died on the night that my child was taken from me. Every word he said now felt like a feather brushing past me, unable to stir even the slightest ripple in my heart.

…

The day we went to church, Lucia and Raphael came along as well.

The path to the church went through a steep mountain path, so Raphael kept close to Lucia while looking after her.

Gabriel frowned, lowering his gaze to hide the frustration in his eyes.

"What's wrong, Gabe?" I asked, a little out of breath.

He hastily regained his composure, crouched in front of me, and offered, "There's still a long way to go before we reach the top, Darling. Since you haven't fully recovered yet, you should let me carry you up."

My cheek rested against his broad back, his warmth seeping through his clothes and into me. Every step he took was steady, as if he would never let me fall.

It reminded me of the day he came crashing through the waves to reach me. In my haze, I thought a prince had appeared before me.

"When I'm all better, let's visit my parents' graves," I murmured, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Without a moment's hesitation, he said, "Sure, we'll do whatever you want."

When we celebrated our first anniversary, he promised my parents just as firmly that he would spend his whole life doing whatever I wanted.

Raphael walked over with four prayer candles. "Light them up and place them by the altar. I'll take Lucia to the chapel for a bit."

Gabriel forced a smile. His grip on my hand tightened, his palm slick with cold sweat. "Lucia's not in good health. A baby can wait, can't it?"

Lucia leaned into Raphael, chuckling behind her hand. "It can't wait anymore. Mom and Dad called just last night. They're urging us to have a baby."

Her eyes drifted ever so slightly in my direction. "They've been waiting so long for a grandchild, only for something this awful to happen."

The blood drained from my face. Raphael avoided my gaze and hurriedly pulled her away.

Gabriel stared blankly at their retreating figures, lost and dazed. It took him a while to come back to his senses, placing his hand on my belly.

He kissed me fervently, and between his ragged breaths, I heard him whisper, "It doesn't matter if we don't have a child. You're all I need."

Yet, his heart hammered against his chest.

"Let's go," I said flatly, without responding to whatever he said.

We lit our candles, and Gabriel lowered his head as he prayed.

I teasingly asked, "So, what did you pray for?"

His eyes crinkled as he pressed his forehead against mine. "That you'll love me forever."

My gaze dimmed, and I turned away, placing my candle at the altar. Only I knew that I'd never be able to love him for the rest of my life, not after learning he'd killed our child.

The car accident had shattered the bone in my calf, so standing too long always left me with a dull ache.

Suddenly, the pain flared up again, and it was sharp enough to make me gasp.

Gabriel's face tightened with worry. "What's wrong, darling?"

However, before I could answer, a shrill ringtone cut me off.

"What did you just say? I'll be right there!" His hand trembled as he hung up. "Lucia just fainted. Raphael and I need to rush her to the hospital. Go home without me."

Before I could say a word, he hurried off to the chapel.

I was rooted to the spot, watching his figure disappear into the crowd. I knew he had decided to abandon me yet again.

The draft flickered through the rows of prayer candles, making their flames dance. I walked over to the one he had lit. On the small slip of paper beside it, in bold, sweeping strokes, he had written: "I pray that Lucia will always be healthy and happy."

I held that note in my hands like a lost child and broke down in tears. There were passersby walking around me, but I couldn't care less. The pain was unbearable.

However, the pain in my leg was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. Gabriel had always fed me one lie after another.

With tears streaming down my face, I typed out a message. "Please help me prepare a death certificate, Dr. Camden."

I only set my phone down after the doctor, Kathleen Camden, replied, "Alright."

After stumbling home in the pouring rain, soaked to the bones, I found Gabriel's mother, Caroline Harmon, waiting inside. She had always looked down on me because I was an orphan who couldn't help Gabriel with his career; she was convinced that I wasn't worthy of him.

Back then, Gabriel had gone against her will to marry me.

She sat on the couch, her eyes churning with emotions, like a calm before the storm.

"You're finally back." Caroline glanced at me and made no attempt to hide her disdain for me.

Rain dripped from my hair into my collar, and the cold made me shiver all over.

Gabriel draped his coat over my shoulders, his strong arms drawing me into his embrace. He said apathetically, "Mom, whatever it is, let's talk about it tomorrow."

Caroline knocked the coffee mug from the table, sending it crashing to the floor in pieces. She pointed at my nose, fuming, "What's so good about this woman? Mrs. Prescott's daughter is returning to the country soon. Hurry up and divorce her!"

Startled, I shrank into his arms, only to catch the scent of roses—Lucia's scent.

Gabriel clenched his jaw and said firmly, "Phoebe might not measure up to Lucia, but I promised I'd stand by her and love her for as long as I live! Get those ideas out of your head, Mom."

Nausea rose in me the instant those words left his lips. I pulled away from his arms, fighting the churning in my stomach.

I slipped the ring off my finger, thrusting it into his hand. This time, I didn't cry. I couldn't.

I looked straight into his dark eyes and said, slowly and firmly, "Since I'll never measure up to Lucia in your eyes, I agree to the divorce."