Clenching my fist, I said, “Honey, you’ve always hated the taste of milk. Don’t force yourself to drink it, okay?”

Adriana gave a helpless smile, but her tone left no room for argument.

“Allen, stop being silly. The doctor said the more you dislike food, the more it means your body is lacking it.”

“If I can’t sleep well, the baby won’t rest well either. Don’t you love him the most? For you and our baby, I have to drink it.”

Without giving me a chance to stop her, she lifted the glass and downed the milk in one swift motion.

Adriana... were you really that afraid my child would stand in Khalil’s way?

Or was it simply that, in your heart, only a child with him was worth having?

I shut my eyes in despair.

Not even thirty minutes later, the effects of the drug began to show. Adriana curled up on the bed, her body trembling in agony, sweat pouring down her face.

She had barely finished her call to her private doctor when he stepped through the door—as if he had been waiting right outside the whole time.

Even though I’d been through this seven times before, losing another child still felt like having my heart torn apart.

In a daze, I heard the doctor say, “Sir, this time, the bleeding was more severe than any of the previous miscarriages. I’m afraid her reproductive system may be permanently damaged. She likely won’t be able to conceive again.”

I felt the blood in my veins freeze. My hands went ice-cold.

Adriana said nothing. Her eyes were red as she looked at me with guilt.

“Allen, please don’t worry. Even if we can’t have children, I still love you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”

This woman—who had grown up as a pampered heiress—had just suffered another miscarriage, and yet she held my hands against her chest, gently trying to warm them with her own body. Even in sleep, she refused to let go.

Late that night, she murmured in her sleep, “Khalil, don’t be afraid. I’ll make sure you get the happiness you deserve.”

The tears I had been holding back finally burst forth.

At our wedding, she had also promised to give me happiness.

But now I see—it was just a lie to stop me from interfering with Khalil.

And I realized, everything about our marriage had been one enormous, cruel joke.

Inhaling sharply, I sent a message to my childhood friend overseas.

[You mentioned wanting me to travel the world with you. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll come find you in Australia the day after tomorrow.]

As I put down my phone, the pain in my chest became unbearable.

I had just lost another child—and this time, it had been murdered by his own mother.

I locked myself in the bathroom, memories of the past three years with Adriana flashing through my mind.

Silent tears slid down my face.

As I stood, my phone slipped from my hand and fell to the floor.

When I bent down to pick it up, I noticed something hidden beneath the sink cabinet—wrapped layer after layer in expensive silk, as if it were a treasured artifact.

I unwrapped it—and found a thick photo album.

It contained every photo of Khalil from the age of 15 to 28.

I recognized the cover—it was the same one I’d once seen in Adriana’s office.

Adriana had always loved photography.

Though technically Melissa’s aunt, she was only a few years older than us. When we were kids, she always carried herself with a cold, aloof demeanor—watching Melissa and me play from the sidelines, as if our games were too childish to bother with.

Then, when we were fifteen, Khalil approached me, asking if we could be friends. I saw he was always alone, so I introduced him to both Melissa and Adriana.

Looking back, it must have started then.

From that moment on, Adriana began joining our outings. She also started learning photography.

I thought it was just part of growing up—her coming out of her shell.

But now I understand—she had met someone she liked.

Most of the photos in the album were ones I had never seen. They captured Khalil in moments even I hadn’t noticed: every smile, every frown, every glance, even a casual stretch—she had preserved them all through her lens.

Ever since we got married, Adriana never touched a camera again.

Once, I asked if she could take a photo of me, but she brushed it off, saying her camera had been lost. Then she recommended a famous photographer instead.

Turns out it wasn’t lost at all—she just didn’t want to use that lens unless it was for someone she truly loved.

My eyes were too dry to cry anymore. I quietly placed the photo album back where I found it.

On my phone, I booked a plane ticket and drafted a divorce agreement.

If she loved Khalil so much, then I’d set her free.

—

The next morning, my eyes were swollen like walnuts.

Adriana looked genuinely distressed. She personally made me a nutritious breakfast and even boiled eggs to reduce the swelling around my eyes. She peeled them with care and pressed them gently to my eyelids.

Her tenderness and concern made me doubt everything—was last night just a bad dream?

Seeing that I hadn’t touched a single bite, she sighed.

“Allen, we lost our baby. I know you’re heartbroken—I am too. But you still need to take care of yourself. Please eat something, don’t make me worry, okay?”

“Where’s the baby’s body? I want to see him.”

Three months in—my child should’ve been fully formed by now.

But he’d never have the chance to come into this world.

And just like seven times before, her answer was the same.

“I already arranged for the baby to be buried properly. You’re too emotional right now—I didn’t want you to see it and feel worse.”

“Mom and Dad are also devastated. Let’s go to the old house tonight for dinner and spend some time with them.”

...

As soon as we arrived at the old family estate, I saw Khalil holding onto Adriana’s mother’s arm, acting playful and affectionate.

When he spotted me, he raised his eyebrows with a smug grin.

“Allen, you’re here? Long time no see. Come, sit down. I heard your ‘tadpoles’ didn’t pass the quality check again—poor Adriana had another miscarriage. You must’ve cried all night, huh? Try not to wear yourself out.”

Since the wedding incident, things had fallen apart between me, Melissa, and Khalil. I usually avoided coming here when they were around.

But today, luck clearly wasn’t on my side.

I thought of the photo he’d posted—Melissa’s six-month baby bump. I thought of the truth: that child was Adriana’s. My heart twisted painfully.

Adriana had never let my child survive past the third month.

When her mother—my mother-in-law—saw me, her expression immediately soured.

“Useless piece of trash. How many times has this happened now? And you still have the nerve to look tired? How did my daughter end up with someone like you?”

She was Adriana’s biological mother, but only Melissa’s step-grandmother. At fifty, she was still ambitious, and watching the CEO position—originally meant for Adriana—fall into Melissa’s hands, filled her with bitterness.

In the past, Adriana might have spoken up for me.

But now, her eyes were fixed on Khalil, filled with longing and devotion. It was like she couldn’t hear anything else being said in the room.

“Grandma, don’t be angry,” Khalil said with false concern. “It’s not Allen’s fault he wasn’t born to be a father. It’s not like he meant to lose that many babies.”

My mother-in-law scoffed coldly.

“He’s a walking curse. All he does is drag my daughter down.”

Then, Khalil put on a pitiful act and started to stand—but suddenly stumbled, pretending to twist his ankle.

Even though he quickly regained balance, Adriana rushed to his side, shoving me aside without hesitation.

Right in front of her parents, she touched his face and asked anxiously, “Khalil, are you okay?”

He looked over at me with a mocking smile, then said in a pitiful tone.

“Adriana, I think I twisted my ankle... It really hurts~”

Without a second thought, Adriana wrapped her arm around his waist and helped him upstairs—straight into the second-floor bedroom without even sparing me a glance.

My mother-in-law looked at me meaningfully, her words sharp as knives. “You’ve got weak seed and can’t even hold onto your wife. If Melissa hadn’t married Khalil first, you think my daughter would’ve looked twice at you? You still have the gall to sit here and eat? Get upstairs! Just looking at you kills my appetite.”

I had always known that my mother-in-law disliked me.

To her, I was the man Melissa didn’t want—someone clinging pathetically to her precious daughter, a disgrace to Adriana. After so many miscarriages, her disdain for me only deepened.

Still, because she was Adriana’s mother—and because I believed the problem might truly lie with my own body—I swallowed the guilt and endured her scorn.

And Adriana… at least she used to defend me, even if just a little. That was enough to keep me silent.

But now, her heart and attention were entirely on Khalil.

She didn’t even remember I existed.

For a fleeting moment, I wanted to scream the truth, to reveal everything. But in the end, I didn’t.

I had already decided to leave—what point was there in fighting back now?

Wordlessly, I turned and went upstairs.

That’s when I noticed Khalil’s bedroom door was slightly ajar.

Something compelled me to walk toward it.

Inside, what I saw nearly tore me apart.

Khalil—disheveled and half-dressed—was pressed against Adriana, who lay beneath him.

“Adriana, you really do love me the most. Melissa can’t have kids—if Allen has a child first, she’ll lose her right to inherit the company. Who knows how much I’ll suffer because of that.”

Adriana’s breath was uneven, her cheeks were flushed with lust. She asked gently, “Is Melissa treating you well? Has she been mean to you?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Ever since we successfully combined our fertilized egg, she thinks she’s really pregnant. Keeps praising how manly I am, spoiling me like crazy. She's also afraid that I'll be tired so massage my feet, and even treating me better in bed.”

Adriana’s smile faltered. There was a trace of bitterness in her voice.

“As long as she treats you well... as long as you’re happy... then I have no regrets.”

“Adriana, you’ve done so much for me. I can’t marry you, but I can give myself to you. Tonight, I’m yours.”

Adriana finally gave in, lifting her face to meet his lips. The two fell into a frenzied embrace, losing themselves in each other.

I had never imagined that the always cold, restrained Adriana could be so reckless—so lost in passion.

Tears fell silently as I turned and stumbled back to the guest bedroom.

She didn’t come back the entire night.

—

The next morning, Adriana looked at me with an apologetic smile.

“Allen, I really meant to come back last night. But Mom pulled me aside to talk for hours—I just couldn’t get away.”

I didn’t expose her lie. I simply turned toward the door and waited for her.

That’s when a bucket of cold, greasy slop came crashing down over my head.

Khalil stood in front of me, still holding the empty slop bucket, grinning like the devil.

“So, Allen... how’d you like the way Adriana looked under me last night?” he taunted.

He had left the door open on purpose.

Smirking, he added, “Losing a child hurts, doesn’t it? But hey, that won’t be a problem for you anymore. Adriana can’t carry your children ever again.”

“You had the audacity to keep getting her pregnant? Trying to compete with me for the role of Lawson Group’s CEO’s husband? Keep dreaming.”

“Adriana gave everything up for me. She willingly forfeited her inheritance, endured countless painful extractions—just so she could fuse with my sperm. Even those dead babies of yours... they became my nourishment.”

My head shot up, my voice trembling.

“What did you say?”

He sneered, lips curling in triumph. “Why do you think Adriana never let you see the babies after she miscarried? She always said they were buried, right? No—she just didn’t want you to know. I told her eating them would strengthen my body.”

A wave of despair, rage, and disbelief crashed over me.

That’s why she never let me see the babies?

For Khalil... she went that far?

He laughed cruelly.

“Don’t give me that pitiful look. Who can you blame but yourself? Useless father, useless man. Your kids were only ever good enough to feed me.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

With all the strength in my broken heart, I raised my hand and slapped Khalil hard across the face.