7

Martin took out the box containing our wedding rings from a file.

He opened it and took out the diamond ring inside.

Grabbing my wrist, he forcibly slipped the ring onto my finger.

I've become more detached from everything, and while I was angry at Martin's actions, it wasn't enough to let my anger show, especially with Pomelo watching nearby.

I casually tossed the ring into the kitchen trash can, not bothering to look at Martin, and coldly said, "Get out."

Martin didn't look too upset. Instead, a hint of awkwardness crossed his face.

Ignoring him, he turned his attention to Pomelo, "Little girl, what's your name?"

In a sweet, childish voice, Pomelo replied, "I'm called Pomelo."

Martin asked, "Why are you here participating in this show?"

Pomelo responded, "Daddy and Mommy sent me here to make money to treat my little brother's illness."

Hearing Pomelo's words, I paused what I was doing.

Most of the kids participating in this variety show were the children of investors, celebrities, or wealthy families. How could Pomelo come from such an ordinary background?

Martin held Pomelo on his lap on the sofa, continuing, "What's wrong with your little brother?"

Pomelo lowered his head, his little face full of sadness, and shook his head, "My little brother has leukemia and needs a bone marrow transplant, but our family has no money."

The egg custard I made for Pomelo was ready.

Listening to Pomelo's words, I got lost in thought and reached for the custard bowl with my bare hands.

I screamed in pain as I burned myself, and the custard and bowl fell to the ground.

Martin saw this and quickly put Pomelo down, rushing over, "Let me see."

He grabbed my hand to check the burn.

It wasn't serious, just a bit red, but it was my first time cooking in years, and the egg custard I made for Pomelo was ruined.

Martin held my hand under cold water, scolding me, "Don't you know your own cooking skills?"

I pulled my hand back and coldly replied, "You have some nerve staying here after I told you to get out."

After a while under the cold water, my hand stopped hurting. I squatted down and said to Pomelo, "Pomelo, we'll have to order takeout for dinner tonight."

Pomelo nodded, holding my hand and blowing on it, "Mommy, Pomelo will blow on it; it won't hurt anymore."

For some reason, my nose started to sting.

Martin sneered, "If the cameras weren't off, ordering takeout would have people thinking you're abusing the kid."

He's always had a sharp tongue.

He's been like that since he was a kid.

In the past, I might have snapped back at him, but now, all I feel is a deep sense of weariness.

8

Martin said, "Give me the apron."

I immediately ordered him out, "I won't eat anything you cook. It's late. You should leave."

Martin began untying the apron I was wearing, "How about I cook something for the kid?"

Pomelo looked up at Martin, "Daddy, I have a name. I'm called Pomelo, remember?"

Martin asked, "Pomelo, what do you like to eat? Daddy will make it for you."

Pomelo glanced at me with her big, grape-like eyes and sweetly said, "Whatever Mommy likes, Pomelo likes too."

"Alright, you and Mommy go wait outside for a bit," Martin said to Pomelo before starting to search the fridge for ingredients.

I led Pomelo out of the kitchen.

Martin's cooking skills are excellent, though he rarely cooks.

Whatever he makes for Pomelo should be fine.

Pomelo took a peek into the kitchen and then said to me in her sweet voice, "Mommy, you don't seem to like Daddy, do you?"

I was speechless.

How was I supposed to answer such a deadly question from Pomelo?

9

Martin quickly prepared a four-dish meal and a soup.

Without exception, they are all my favorites.

I wasn't sure if Pomelo would like them, so I asked her, "Pomelo, do you like these?"

Pomelo nodded happily, "I love them."

Seeing how much she enjoyed the food made me feel a bit surprised.

This little girl's tastes are just like mine.

I love eating shrimp, but peeling them is a hassle and makes my hands greasy.

When Martin and I were dating, he always peeled them for me.

Even now, he hasn't changed.

He placed the peeled shrimp in my dish, but when he saw Pomelo also loved shrimp, I pushed the plate towards her.

Martin's face visibly darkened, but perhaps because Pomelo was still young, he just pursed his lips and said nothing.

After dinner, I started urging Martin to leave.

After all, the cameras would be on tomorrow.

I didn't want anyone to know about my relationship with Martin.

Martin refused to leave, so I hardened my tone, "If you stay here, do you want me to end up on tomorrow's trending searches?"

Martin pressed his thin lips together and firmly told me, "Gloria, I came here to tell you that no matter what, I won't agree to a divorce."

Before I could respond, he grabbed his coat and left the apartment.

10

"Child...baby..."

Around one or two in the morning, I woke up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat.

I dreamt of that night five years ago when I was eight months pregnant and got knocked out and left at the hospital.

When I vaguely regained consciousness, the baby had already been born, and I overheard the doctors talking.

"Sigh, it's a girl, but unfortunately, the fetus was too small to survive."

At that time, I was too weak, too weak even to ask questions when I heard those words, and I fell unconscious again.

When I woke up again, Martin was by my side.

I asked him, "Where's the baby?"

Martin told me the baby was gone, that she had been stillborn.

Losing the baby nearly destroyed me, sending me into a deep depression.

I curled up like a fetus, trying to find a sense of safety.

Every time, I'd wake up from these dreams, tears already streaming down my face.

12

After a month of filming with the crew, I grew closer to the little girl.

Ever since what happened back then, I've always been repulsed by children, and at first, Pomelo was no exception.

But this little girl's sweetness eventually melted away my initial resistance.

The crew came by to inform us that Pomelo's parents had temporarily pulled her from filming because her brother was sick, and she needed to go to the hospital.

Given how close Pomelo and I had become, with her always calling me Mommy, I decided to go with her.

As soon as we arrived at the hospital, her mother grabbed her arm without caring if it hurt and dragged her to the doctor.

"Doctor, my daughter is here. Can you check if her bone marrow is suitable?"

I saw Pomelo's biological mother crying her eyes out, looking at her daughter as if she were a lifeline.

This kind of differential treatment made me feel extremely uncomfortable.

Pomelo was taken in for tests.

Her father greeted me with a smile, "You're Pomelo's mommy from the show, right? You're really pretty. To be honest, you and Pomelo look like a real mother and daughter."

Instinctively, I touched my cheek, a subtle smile curling at the corner of my lips.

Indeed, more than one person had said that Pomelo and I had a mother-daughter resemblance.

Last week, the crew filmed an outdoor scene.

Pomelo and I were even dressed in matching mother-daughter outfits.

Not only did the crew say we looked alike, but the audience watching the live stream also commented on our resemblance.

If my baby had survived, she would probably be about Pomelo's age now.