"Don’t think that you've earned any special favor just because you saved Thorian back then. Thorian hates dirty people more than anything. The moment you offered yourself, delaying everything, you were already tainted..."

"You’ve been married for seven years, so what? He still won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. He spends every day with me to release his pent-up energy. He even said it to me in bed."

"He thinks you... are filthy."

Her gaze pierced through me as if she was stripping me bare.

For a moment, I was transported back to that suffocating afternoon, panic rising in my chest as I realized I had run myself into a dead end, all for Thorian’s escape.

When I was rescued, the photos taken by the kidnappers became damning evidence, and their testimonies were used to smear my name.

I denied everything with desperation, but Thorian simply cried, holding me tightly and solemnly vowing to take responsibility for me.

At that moment, I foolishly believed that our love was invincible, that nothing could tear us apart.

But I never anticipated that this would only mark the beginning of seven years of suffering.

It felt like a giant hand was squeezing the very air from my lungs, the pain so suffocating that I could barely breathe.

My fingers tightened around the wheelchair handle, my knuckles white with the effort.

"Get out," I commanded, pushing with every ounce of strength I had, but she simply yanked it back, effortlessly.

She seized my hand and pressed it to her swollen belly.

"I’ll tell you a secret," she sneered, her voice dripping with malice. "I’m not pregnant."

I stared at her, disbelief flooding me, but her eyes were contemptuous, sharp, and unyielding.

"Thorian could never bear to see me suffer like that. Our child is inside you. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, to bear his child?"

Her gaze was a weapon, slicing through me with ease, leaving me feeling like a fish stranded on dry land, gasping for air, helpless and exposed.

"You’re shameless," I muttered, my words barely audible.

The moment my hand grazed her, she suddenly groaned in pain, crumpling to the floor in a heap, blood spilling out in a pool beneath her.

"My baby, my baby…" she sobbed.

Behind her, Thorian stood, his face as dark as a storm cloud, fury radiating off him.

In an instant, he grabbed me by the neck, slamming me into the wall.

"Farah," he hissed through clenched teeth, his voice low and dangerous, "If her baby dies, I’ll make you pay with your child!"

The pain from the knife wound flared up, dizzying me with its intensity.

My heart felt as though it had been hollowed out completely, leaving nothing but an aching emptiness.

I watched Thorian lift Breanna and walk away, his back turned to me, each step taking him farther from where I stood. Bitterly, I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, feeling like a forgotten shadow in the distance.

Then, my phone buzzed, pulling me back to reality.

[Identity deactivation procedure has started. It cannot be undone. It will be successfully deactivated in seven days.]

The words hung in the air as if the final nail had been hammered into the coffin of my existence.

After that day, I returned home, my movements mechanical as I packed to leave.

Thorian had spent hours at the hospital, calling me several times to remind me to rest and to check on the baby.

I had heard the news: Breanna had miscarried, but now, she held the baby that had once been mine.

I pretended not to hear it, tossing the emergency kit I had so carefully prepared for him into the trash without a second thought.

I dismantled the study he had once asked for, cutting up the movie discs and music CDs I had painstakingly collected just for him, as though severing the last ties between us.

When I received the notification that the deactivation had been completed, I set fire to all of our photos, watching them curl and blacken in the flames, feeling each piece of the past burn away with them. I was preparing to leave, to step out of the suffocating remnants of what we once shared.

Then, Thorian returned.

He glanced at the fire pit casually, almost as if he didn’t care about the destruction I’d just set in motion, before placing a box of crab roe buns in front of me.

"Farah, that day... I was wrong. I shouldn’t have let my emotions control me and said such hurtful things. I made you suffer."

He paused, running a hand through his hair. "The baby’s condition hasn’t been good these past few days. He’s been in the ICU. You can blame me, resent me all you want, but the baby... he’s innocent."

His voice softened, and the words seemed to reach the deepest part of my heart, pulling at the edges of the damage we’d caused. "Come with me to the hospital, at least to see him. Please?"

The cold edge of my phone pressed sharply into my palm, sending an icy chill straight to my bones.

I knew why he was here. The baby’s organs were failing, and with double the amount of medication, the bleeding was heavy. He wouldn’t survive.

Thorian’s fingers brushed against my belly with an almost tender touch as he slipped a rose-colored ring into my hand, his silent plea hanging between us like the last breath before a storm.

"The doctor said the best solution is an organ transplant. What do you think? We could try again, have a healthy one this time."

"If you don’t like IVF, then we won’t go down that path. This time, it’ll be real, a child of ours, truly ours."

"Then, the four of us will be the happiest family in the world."

Before I could answer, a message from Breanna appeared on my phone, its cruel words flashing across the screen.

[As expected, garbage breeds more garbage. There’s no choice but to make you have another one.]

The photo she sent made my heart stop. There she was, proudly wearing the same rose-colored ring I had once cherished, one hand clutching a baby lying unconscious in an oxygen chamber.

The rose-colored ring, once a symbol of our love and the child who should’ve been the embodiment of our dreams, had become a curse. What once filled me with longing now sent a chill through my spine.

I turned my head, refusing to let Thorian’s kiss touch my lips, the weight of everything making it impossible to respond.

In the uncertainty of his gaze, I placed my hand gently over his, offering a calm I didn’t feel.

"Alright, I’ll go to the hospital once I finish up here."

Thorian’s eyes widened for a moment, but the shock quickly faded, replaced by an eager joy that couldn’t be masked.

Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and shot a message to Breanna.

He tried to reassure me as though convincing both of us.

"Breanna’s been taking care of the baby these past few days. I just wanted to let her know the baby’s mother is coming back. Don’t overthink it."

I offered a small smile, saying nothing, watching him hurry to the hospital, practically bursting with excitement to reunite with Breanna.

Turning away, I closed the door behind me and tossed my phone aside, the weight of it all sinking in.

After wiping away every trace of myself, I grabbed my suitcase and stepped onto a plane bound for foreign skies.

From that moment onward, we would exist in separate worlds as distant as the stars.

Our paths would never cross again.

…

In the sterile quiet of the hospital, Thorian waited, his patience slowly wearing thin.

He had no doubt that Farah would come, just like she had before, sacrificing herself for him.

Her love for him was undeniable; she would never let the child suffer without doing everything in her power to help.

But as the minutes ticked by, his confidence began to waver.

He reached for his phone, dialing her number, only to be met with silence.

It was the first time she hadn't answered his call.

He could still see the edge of the photo burning in the fire pit, the chilling finality of Farah’s words echoing in his mind.

His heart tightened, panic rising as he waited, uncertain of what was happening.

No, it couldn’t be.

The answer he feared was impossible.

Thorian shoved Breanna aside, determination flaring as he made his way home, intent on finding Farah.

But just as he was about to leave, a figure appeared at the door.

He laughed to himself, dismissing his anxiety.

Farah was like a stubborn shadow; there was no way she wouldn’t show up.

Confident, he swung open the door, ready to lecture her for the drama she’d caused.

But instead of Farah, someone handed him an envelope with a cool, professional air.

"Sir, here’s your registration letter."

Farah was nowhere to be found.

Thorian’s heart stuttered in his chest.

Before he could speak, Breanna snatched the envelope from his hands, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

She cast a glance at the name "Farah" on the envelope, her lips curling into a mocking laugh.

"I guess she regrets it," Breanna sneered. "Regrets saving you back then. Now, she won’t even save the child. She’s just run off."

Thorian's brow furrowed, irritation flashing across his face, but his pulse quickened with a growing sense of dread.

Breanna ripped open the envelope, and two papers slipped out.

One was a consent form for an abortion.

The other was a signed divorce agreement.