"No, something unexpected happened this time, but it'll be soon. I'll contact you then."

Just as I hung up, the hospital room door was pushed open.

Jonathan stood at the door, his eyes fixed on my gentle features. This was the first time in the past two years that he had seen me smile without a bitter and resentful expression.

His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Wendy's morning sickness is pretty bad."

He offered the explanation out of nowhere, but his gaze lingered on my phone by the bed. “I have to go back and take care of her.”

I knew he wanted to ask who had called me, but he eventually held it back.

Because asking would mean he still cared about me, which would bruise his ego.

He grabbed his suit off the couch and tossed it out. "Something urgent came up at work. I'll come to see you tomorrow."

After the door closed, I counted the drops of medicine falling from the IV drip. One drop, two drops.

Just like counting the lies he'd told me over the past seven years.

In Jonathan's world, "tomorrow" was a day that would never come.

Three days passed and Jonathan never appeared. Instead, a constant stream of videos came from our mutual friends.

He was at a charity gala with his arm around Wendy's waist, feeding her dessert at a Michelin-starred restaurant and kissing her growing baby bump on a yacht.

On the day I was discharged, a new post popped up on my feed.

Jonathan had posted a grid of nine photos.

He was kneeling in the middle of a lavender field with his ear pressed to Wendy's belly. The caption read, "Waiting for our little princess."

The sunlight was perfect and the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at Wendy could melt ice.

The comments section was filled with cheerful remarks calling Wendy beautiful.

He hadn't blocked me, so I clicked "like."

My phone vibrated instantly, Jonathan's name flashing on the screen.

I didn't answer. I slipped my phone into my bag and handled the discharge procedures alone.

I heard a familiar laugh as I walked towards the obstetrics and gynecology department entrance.

"Mrs. Wendy, your husband is so considerate."

A young nurse at the reception desk said, her face full of admiration.

"He's been coming with you to every prenatal checkup! Even a heat pack for the ultrasound was brought so you wouldn't get cold."

I froze. My fingers instinctively brushed over my flat stomach.

There was a time when Jonathan had been just as anxious about me, just as meticulously caring.

In fact, I got pregnant once after that time.

But before I could tell him the good news, I came home to find Jonathan and Wendy entangled in the living room.

When she saw me, Wendy burst into tears and hid in his arms.

"Mrs. Zander, please don't misunderstand. I was just helping Jonathan relieve some stress."

I was so overwhelmed. I wanted to tell him I was pregnant. That I didn't need anyone else to have a baby for me.

But before the words could leave my lips, a sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen.

The baby that hadn't even had time to be real was gone like that.

Jonathan knew nothing about it. He was disheveled, hugging the sobbing Wendy and roaring at me.

"Daphne, what the fuck is wrong with you? You scared Wendy to tears! You can't even keep a baby. Why don't you just die already?"

"What are you doing here?"

A cold voice pulled me back to reality.

Jonathan had appeared before me without warning. Wendy was clinging to his arm, her baby bump clearly visible.

I stepped back instinctively. "Just finishing my discharge paperwork."

"Daphne, you look so pale," Wendy suddenly chirped, her fingers twirling around his tie.

"Jonathan, let's take her home with us, okay? She just donated blood for me. We should really thank her."

Jonathan pinched Wendy's cheek. "You're so kind-hearted."

Then he turned to me, his expression back to that familiar indifference. "Get in the car. Don't keep Wendy waiting."

I wanted to say no, but I remembered the documents I'd left in the study back at the villa. So, I followed them silently.

Jonathan's usually spotless study now reeked of Wendy's perfume, a cloying sweetness that made me nauseous.

I rummaged through the files, only to find a bulge under one of them on the desk.

I saw a black lace strap when I looked down, the edges stained with suspicious marks.

"Oops!" Wendy, who had followed me into the study, exclaimed. Her cheeks flushed. "H-how is this still in the study?"

Jonathan glanced at me, a cold smirk playing on his lips. "Forgot to clean up."

I lowered my head, suddenly recalling the first year of our marriage when I had secretly placed a homemade lunchbox on his study desk.

He had returned that day in a furious rage, saying I had dirtied his study.

But now, Wendy's girl juice was smeared across his desk and all he did was smile indulgently.

Wendy playfully nudged his shoulder with a feigned annoyance. Jonathan chuckled, then as if a thought struck him, he suddenly asked me, "Daphne, what were you doing suddenly barging into my study?"

"Getting my safe deposit box that I left here."

I lifted the small box in my hand. It held my and Jonathan's marriage certificate and our household registration book.

But he had clearly forgotten about it, his brow furrowed as he pressed.

"What did you put in there? You've been acting strangely lately. Did you buy something behind my back?"

Jonathan walked over and snatched the safe deposit box from me.

Faced with the combination lock, he was clueless. He narrowed his eyes at me, his gaze threatening.

I said softly, "Our wedding anniversary."

That date had just passed not long ago, but the man before me kept trying different combinations and still couldn't open it.

Finally, he was utterly fed up. Then, he threw it back at me and snapped.

"I don't care what you bought. Throw it out. Daphne, you don't deserve to spend my money."

I didn't say a word, clutching the safe deposit box as I returned to the guest room.

Jonathan seemed to want to say more, but Wendy suddenly claimed she felt unwell. He quickly carried her back to the main bedroom.

After settling Wendy down, he came downstairs and, unusually, instructed the housekeeper, "Make a few dishes tonight that are good for blood. The ones Madam likes."

Back in the guest room, when I stepped inside, I saw my suitcase had been smashed and the things inside were either broken or missing.

I was thankful I had my ID card on me and some other documents had survived only because I had forgotten to pack them.

I opened the safe deposit box and carefully placed everything inside into my inner pockets.

Just as I was about to leave, Wendy leaned against the doorframe, blocking my way.

"Wow, Daphne. I didn't think you were this good at pretending."

Her red lips were slightly curled. Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You can still pretend to be so calm, even though I have ridden on your head and bullied you."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

Then Wendy suddenly acted like she remembered something and dramatically covered her mouth.

"Oh, right. Do you know why Jonathan didn't drive you to the hospital last month when your old man was on his deathbed?"

She waved her phone at me. The screen showed a picture of her and Jonathan, cuddled together on a trip abroad.

"It was because I had a beauty treatment appointment that day and Jonathan said my face was more important than that old man's life."

I slapped the phone out of her hand. She screamed and shoved me hard. I stumbled back into a bookshelf. A delicate antique vase crashed to the floor and shattered.

Right at that moment, the ground began to tremble violently.

"An … an earthquake!"

Wendy's face turned deathly pale. She turned to run but was blocked by a fallen bookcase.

Thick smoke started rising at the end of the hallway and a short circuit sparked a fire.

My body was still weak from just being discharged from the hospital and quickly gave way. I collapsed onto the broken glass scattered on the floor.

"Daphne!"

I heard Jonathan's voice coming from afar, followed by the housekeeper's dissuasion, "Mr. Zander! It's too dangerous!"

"Get out of the way!"

The sound of footsteps grew closer. Jonathan rushed into the smoke-filled room.

The first thing he saw was Wendy huddled in a corner, sobbing.

"Jonathan! I'm so scared." Wendy reached out her arms.

Jonathan picked her up without hesitation. When he turned around, he finally saw me lying on the ground.

Our eyes met. His lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing. He carried Wendy as they disappeared into the smoke.

The earthquake quickly subsided, but it took the firefighters an hour to extinguish the fire.

Jonathan asked repeatedly, but no one said they had seen me.

Neither in life nor in death was my body found.

At the airport, after I mailed out everything I needed to, I clutched my chest and prepared to board my flight.

My phone rang again. It was Jonathan.

I calmly pulled out the SIM card and tossed it into the trash.

Jonathan, from this day forward, you and I have absolutely nothing to do with each other.

"Stop messing around with me. I know you're not dead. I'll accompany Wendy for a prenatal checkup at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Return to me immediately and I'll take you to a physical checkup."

Jonathan stared at his phone screen for a long time, waiting for a reply that never came. Frustrated, he tossed his phone across the room.

The following day, at a private hospital VIP ward.

"Jonathan, is the baby, okay?" Wendy gently rubbed her slightly rounded belly, eyes brimming with tears.

Jonathan gently hugged her shoulders. "The doctor said everything's fine."

But his voice was a bit dry because he kept thinking about me.

"That's good … " Wendy leaned on his shoulder. "You've been so distracted since this morning. I thought something had happened to the baby."

Wendy's mother, who came to care for her, said indignantly. "I said Daphne was a jinx. Ever since she showed up, nothing good has happened to Wendy!"

Her words stabbed Jonathan right in the chest.

In a daze, he saw again the look in Daphne's eyes on the day of the earthquake.

So calm, as if she had already foreseen his choice.

He unlocked his phone. Still no messages.

Daphne used to respond instantly, even if he messaged her at 3 a.m.

Since when did she learn how to play hard-to-get and go full-on silent treatment?

"Mr. Zander?"

His assistant's voice pulled him back to reality. "The chairman flew back early. He's calling for an emergency board meeting."

Jonathan rubbed his temples. "Got it. I'm on my way."

The assistant waited, but Jonathan didn't hang up right away.

After a pause, he spoke in a low voice. "Go buy the latest Cartier necklace."

"Yes, sir. For Miss Stevens, right? I'll … "

"Wrap it nicely," Jonathan cut him off. "And put it in my wife's room. The sapphire one."

He remembered that it was my favorite color.

That man still believed I would soon return to admit my mistake.

At eleven o'clock at night, Jonathan pushed open the house door.

Under the dim light, a slender figure was curled up on the sofa.

"Daphne, I knew you couldn't hold out for long. See? You've obediently come back … "

His words stopped abruptly.

When he saw it was Wendy, his sarcastic words died in his throat.

Wendy didn't notice Jonathan's strange behavior. She said softly.

"Jonathan ... Daphne still hasn't come back. I sent her a message to apologize, but she's ignoring me. Do you think she's mad? Maybe I should move to the guest room."

He patted her back half-heartedly, but his gaze drifted towards the tightly closed room upstairs.

There used to be a woman there who would leave a light on for him every night.

"Don't overthink it. You're afraid of the dark. Why would you sleep in the guest room? This home will be yours from now on. Alright, go back to your room and rest."

After coaxing Wendy back to her room, he walked towards the kitchen, loosening his tie with inexplicable annoyance.

He drank bottle after bottle of wine. The phone screen lit up and then went dark, displaying only one warning message.

[Tomorrow is my dad's wedding. Get your ass back here. Don't embarrass me and Wendy. This is your last chance! If you return, I won't hold it against you for running off.]

On the wedding day, Jonathan escorted a beautifully dressed Wendy, making a high-profile appearance as if Wendy were his rightful wife.

When his father, Dean Zander, approached, he let go of Wendy's hand.

"Why didn't Daphne come with you?"

Dean held his young new wife's hand. His sharp gaze made Jonathan's Adam's apple bob.

He subconsciously adjusted his cuff, uttering the lie he had prepared long ago. "Dad, Daphne hasn't been feeling well lately. I told her to rest more. She should be here soon."

Surprisingly, he covered for me now, afraid of upsetting his father.

Dean smiled and even asked, "Is Daphne pregnant? It's about time you two had a child. After all, a child from another woman isn't legitimate."

Jonathan's expression stiffened. He met Wendy's embarrassed gaze but instinctively looked away. "We're considering it."

Dean didn't know yet that I couldn't have children.

My seat was still empty when the wedding was about the gift-giving part.

Jonathan kept rubbing the wedding ring on his ring finger, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Halfway through the banquet, the guests began presenting gifts and toasts. Still, no sign of Daphne.

By the third time Jonathan checked his watch, his knuckles had gone white.

He slipped away from the crowd and stood behind a pillar in the corridor, dialing the number he knew by heart.

"The number you have dialed is currently switched off … "

The cold, automated voice made his chest feel tight.

Just as he was about to redial, the banquet hall doors swung open. A deliveryman walked in, holding three beautifully wrapped gift boxes.

"Mrs. Daphne sent these as wedding gifts," the butler whispered into Dean's ear.

Under the gaze of everyone, Dean personally opened the first gift I prepared, which was an antique porcelain from the ancient Roman era.

Dean's eyes lit up. This was exactly the porcelain he mentioned that he liked half a year ago. He has always been an antique lover, and he didn't expect that I would cater to his taste so much.

The first gift box satisfied his heart so much that he couldn't wait to open the second gift box, but when his eyes saw what was inside, he was stunned.

The emerald pendant passed down through generations of the Zander Family lay quietly on the velvet bed. It was the heirloom my mother-in-law had placed around my neck years ago.

"What … " Before Dean could recover from his shock, Jonathan had quickly tore open the inner layer of the gift box.

The corners of Jonathan’s mouth twitched upward until he saw what was inside,his smile faltering into complete stillness.