Nine years into my "non-cohabiting partnership" with Simon, his father passed away.

The first condition in his will was simple: Simon and Ella had to conceive a child.

On the day the child turned one month old, Simon would inherit his father's fortune.

Simon told me this himself—the night I walked in on them tangled in our bed.

Afterward, as he took a slow drag from his cigarette, he murmured, "Lily, just wait a little longer. Once I get the inheritance, I'll marry you."

But he went back on his word.

From then on, every time Simon planned to meet Ella at our house, he would hang a string of bells on the door.

Since his father's passing, those bells had chimed ninety-nine times.

After the ninety-ninth, the news arrived—Ella was pregnant, and their engagement party was set.

My daughter saw the invitation, hesitated, then softly asked, "Mom, is Daddy's name on this?"

I forced a smile and gently smoothed her messy hair into a neat ponytail.

"Daddy is marrying the one he loves," I said. "And I'm taking you home."

Simon never understood—I never cared about that marriage certificate.

Simon Hoffman had asked me out to dinner.

He was still tied up in a meeting, so I got to our reserved private dining room ahead of him.

While I waited, I pulled out my phone to check on flights home, hitting the peak of the summer travel season. The earliest one I could get was ten days out.

My birthday was also in ten days.

That same day, Simon and Ella Johnson were throwing their engagement party.

Well, that was one celebration I was not going to crash.

The door swung open and in came Simon, catching me off guard. I quickly locked my phone screen.

The room was large, yet he made a beeline to sit right beside me, warmly grabbing my hand.

In a flash, it felt as if I had returned to the night our non-cohabiting relationship began nine years ago. That night, he snuck into my room, gently kissed my hand, and whispered promises of a love that would last a lifetime.

However, now there was a ring on his finger—a ring I knew all too well. Given who he was, Simon was meant to have just one matching set for life.

He could not wait to be tied down to Ella.

The ring's gleam under the restaurant lights was like a dagger to my eyes.

He must have caught my gaze because he chuckled awkwardly and slid the ring off.

"Sorry... I forgot to take it off."

I kept my expression neutral. "Why bother? It's yours, isn't it?"

He paused, looking stunned, but then his phone ringtone shattered the silence. He picked up, and his face twisted into a grimace.

"A fender bender?! Is everyone okay? If you say so, but what's the doctor's verdict? Hold on, I'm on my way."

He ended the call and turned to me, his distress written all over his face.

"Ella's car got hit from behind, and I've got to go see her. She's expecting and needs someone around. Go ahead and eat. I'll make it up to you with another date, okay?"

Suddenly, I was hit with a wave of indifference. I zipped up my bag and stood up.

"Something's come up. I've got to run."

Simon reached out to stop me and asked, "Are you upset? Lily Scott, come on, it's almost done!"

I did not respond. Instead, I just pulled away from his grip and headed for the door.

"Lily! Lily! Hold on!"

I took a deep breath and turned to look at him. "Simon, I'm really in a rush. I can't wait any longer."

'That's that, Simon.'

I hurried down the street, head held high, blinking back tears that no one could see.

'In ten days, Simon, we'll each go our own way,' I thought to myself.

My little girl was under the weather, so I took some time off work to take her to the hospital.

Without thinking, I gave the cab driver an address. Only after we arrived did I realize it was the Hoffman family's hospital.

My daughter, Nicole Scott, was getting her blood drawn, her face all scrunched up. I gently rubbed her head, trying to soothe her.

Out of nowhere, the hospital erupted into chaos. I looked up to see a familiar figure heading my way.

It was Simon.

It hit me then.

After Ella's accident a few days ago, Simon's mother, Julia Parker, had insisted she rest up at the hospital. She was right upstairs.

Simon looked like he had just seen us, his eyes wide with surprise. "What happened to Nicole? You didn't even give me a heads-up."

With a scoff, I whipped out my phone and flashed the chat at him, highlighting the message I had sent three hours earlier, still unanswered.

Simon squirmed, lost for words, and after an awkward pause, he clumsily steered the conversation elsewhere.

"Actually... My mom's asking for you upstairs."

I scooped up my daughter and nodded for Simon to show the way.

Ella's room was a private sanctuary at the top of the hospital, reserved for the Hoffmans.

Stepping inside, I caught sight of Ella, heavily pregnant, trying to edge out of bed.

Simon was at her side in an instant, his face a mask of soft worry.

Julia's eyes, sharp as daggers, cut to me, dripping with her usual scorn.

The Hoffman elders had never taken a liking to me.

I had tried to explain that a non-cohabiting partnership was my family’s tradition, but they clung to the idea that I was irresponsible and flighty.

Julia's face transformed when she looked at Ella, her grin so wide it could split the sky.

"Ella had a scare recently... but thank goodness, everyone's okay. With that settled, it's time to put things right."

She gave her son's shoulder a reassuring pat, her eyes flicking to me with revulsion.

"That child of yours won't be any good, dragging our family name through the mud. Just make sure everyone knows the baby Ella's carrying is yours, Simon."

Simon's brow creased with concern. "Mom, that's a bit harsh. Lily is, after all…"

I inhaled deeply, my daughter in my arms, and stepped closer to Simon.

"Nicole, listen up. From now on, he's Mr. Hoffman to you, not 'Daddy'."

I turned back to Julia and gently whispered, "Your wish is my command."

Simon's eyes widened in shock, his gaze fixed on me.

Nicole, confused, could only pout and let her tears fall.

I did not look at Simon. Instead, I gently squeezed Nicole's cheek, coaxing a smile from the little one.

Ella's shy smile was directed at me as she said, "Lily, you know how terrified I was. We nearly lost the baby."

Ella dabbed at her eyes, the picture of vulnerability. "Simon mentioned your bracelet has healing powers, that you wore it when Nicole was born."

Her eyes drifted to my wrist, her silent plea evident.

Simon had given me that bracelet on our third anniversary.

I silently slipped off the bracelet, gripping it tight in my fist for a moment.

Everyone in the room held their breath.

Then, with a smile reaching my eyes, I passed the bracelet to her.

Simon kept his head down, lost in silence.

How ridiculous I felt, for a moment thinking he would remember the bracelet and intervene.

I was deluding myself.

With a smile, I told Ella, "It suits you beautifully."

I lifted Nicole up a bit more, holding her close, and walked away without looking back.

"Lily..."

Simon's voice trailed after me, but Julia cut him off.

"Just let her leave! We don't need that kind of negativity."

From the corner, Ella gasped and exclaimed, "Simon, I think the baby moved!"

"What? Let me have a feel."

I quickened my pace, their voices soon fading into the distance.

Back home, Nicole was still reeling from the news of her father's absence, her tiny face creased with sorrow, tears clinging to her lashes, her cheeks flushed from crying.

She gripped my hand, her voice quivering with the brink of tears. "I want Daddy to be there for my birthday again..."

I gently pushed her damp bangs aside and pulled her onto my lap, correcting her softly, "We call him Mr. Hoffman now, Nicole. He's not Daddy anymore. How about we go home, would you like that?"

Nicole's voice cracked with the strain of crying. "Isn't this supposed to be my home?"

"This is Mr. Hoffman's place, not ours. Just a little longer, and I'll take you home, sweetheart."

Nicole's teary eyes drifted to the grand piano in the corner of the living room, a birthday present from Simon last year.

Back then, she had been ecstatic, begging her father to teach her to play, feeling like the luckiest 'Princess Nicole' in the world. Simon had indulged her with a loving smile, his eyes brimming with fatherly affection.

However, that was all in the past.

"Can I have just one more birthday with Daddy?"

She was too young to let go, to call him anything else.

I did not chide her. Instead, I stroked her hair and said, "Alright, I'll talk to Mr. Hoffman."

Nicole was caught up in the grown-ups' storm, whether she liked it or not.

I would do whatever it took to make things right for her.