I had just finished my last specialist consultation of the day when a pregnant woman barged in.

My medical assistant reminded her she needed to check in at the front desk. She rolled her eyes.

“Check in, my ass! I'm carrying the CEO of Farley Group's baby. That's all the appointment I need!”

But the CEO of Farley Group, Malcolm Farley, was my husband. Seven years married. Devoted, or so I'd believed.

She must have noticed my face drain of color, because her lips curled and she tugged her collar low, eyes brimming with triumph and provocation.

“Malcolm is insatiable, honestly. I'm already pregnant and he still can't keep his hands off me. Hickeys all over, and I've been running a low fever from all the excitement. Hurry up and examine me, would you?”

I stared at her for a long time. Then I spoke. ：“Let's start with a blood test.”

The woman gave me an unreadable smile.

“A blood test? You want to check the sex, don't you. You're even more desperate than I am to know whether this baby will be the Farley heir. Isn't that right, Mrs. Farley? Seven years and you couldn't produce a single child.”

I shook my head, expression ice.

A low-grade fever, paired with a rash that no amount of hickeys could disguise.

All I wanted to confirm was whether she had HIV.

——

“Fever? Looks more like you're in heat.”

A patient's family member who knew me happened to be passing by and couldn't hold back.

“You're pregnant, so I wasn't going to say anything, but that delusion of yours needs medical attention too! Everyone knows how much Mr. Farley adores Dr. Thomas.”

“I've only had a handful of appointments here, and every single time there's been a fresh bouquet of rare flowers flown in by Mr. Farley's people. A different arrangement every day, just to keep Dr. Thomas smiling.”

“When Dr. Thomas had a stomachache, he canceled a hundred-million-dollar deal to bring her soup himself and give her a massage.”

“Even Mrs. Farley says Amanda Thomas is the only daughter-in-law she'll ever accept. You should salvage what's left of your dignity and stop making things up!”

Those words steadied the panic spiraling through my chest.

I should trust Malcolm.

“Making things up?!”

The pregnant woman, Vivian Chambers, looked like her face might twist clean off.

“Open your damn eyes and wait. I'll bring him here myself!”

She pulled up a chat and sent a voice message. ：“Malcolm, baby, I'm at the hospital. Come quick, okay?”

A reply pinged back instantly. Vivian lifted her chin. ：“Mr. Farley says he's on his way!”

The commotion had drawn a crowd of onlookers in the hallway.

I didn't leave either, though I was only waiting for her blood work. That was my duty as a physician.

“Malcolm, baby, I'm over here!”

Vivian's face broke into a victorious grin as she waved toward the far end of the corridor.

I turned, disbelieving. And there he was. Malcolm Farley, walking toward us.

He cut through the crowd in long strides, slid his hand around her waist, and spoke in a tone that was indulgent and faintly exasperated.

“Why didn't you stay home like I told you? What are you doing here?”

Vivian pouted, playing coy. ：“It's your fault for wearing me out! I was worried about the baby, so I came to get checked. And then these people accused me of making up stories about you. Malcolm, baby, tell them. Tell them the baby's yours.”

Malcolm's gaze turned frigid. He swept the room. ：“Who has a death wish? Who dared question my woman?”

My woman.

Two words. They crushed every skeptical glance in the room into silence.

And they crushed the last shred of hope inside my chest along with them.

Malcolm finally noticed me in the corner, my eyes burning red.

A flicker of something crossed his face. It vanished almost before it registered, and he composed himself and walked toward me.

“Honey, I wasn't planning to hide this from you forever. After all, Vivian's baby will need to be raised by you eventually. You can't have children, so I had no choice but to find someone to have one for you. Everything I did, I did with you in mind. Be good. Be the bigger person.”

He spoke low enough that only I could hear. Every word landed like a fist against my ribs.

I dug my nails into my palms until they ached, my eyes burning red：“Do you even remember why I can't have children?”

Seven years ago, right before our wedding, one of Malcolm's defeated business rivals came looking for revenge. He'd wanted to kill Rosalie to make Malcolm pay.

I'd been having afternoon tea with her at the time. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of her.

The knife meant for her heart plunged into my uterus instead.

That single stab cost me my ability to ever bear children.

I knew a family like the Farleys needed an heir. So I swallowed my pain and offered to break things off.

Malcolm fought to keep me. He stood outside my apartment in a downpour all night long.

Even after he collapsed with pneumonia and slipped into delirium, he kept murmuring that he'd never need children, that all he needed was me.

That same man who'd once sworn the world to me now stood before me, his voice as calm and cold as a stranger's.

“Why bring up the past? Let's talk about the present and the future.”

“The present is that Vivian is carrying my child, and she's keeping it. As for the future, you'll raise the child. That's your duty as Mrs. Farley.”

His tone was flat, unbothered, as though this weren't betrayal at all but a business negotiation.

Something inside my chest tore open, raw and bone-deep.

Then my assistant came hurrying over, her expression conflicted, and placed Vivian's blood work report in my hands.

Positive. Just as I'd suspected.

I drew a long breath and looked Malcolm dead in the eye.

“Fine. Then let's only talk about the present and the future.”

“Right now, I'm telling you that Vivian has an STD. Your grand plans for the future? You might want to rethink those.”

Malcolm snatched the report from my hand. His face went dark.

He strode straight to Vivian, barely contained fury flickering behind his eyes：“Explain.”

“Is it the gender results……”

Vivian's gaze landed on the report. Her breath caught.

A flash of panic crossed her face before she threw herself into Malcolm's arms, her eyes reddening on cue.

“She's framing me! You know I was a virgin when we got together! I'm carrying your baby, and you'd believe her over me?”

Tears spilled down Vivian's cheeks in an unbroken stream, landing on the sharp ridges of Malcolm's knuckles, dousing his anger and suspicion in one stroke.

Malcolm wiped her tears away with his thumb, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur：“Hey, don't be such a crybaby. I believe you. Stop crying, alright?”

“No! No!”

Vivian refused to let it go. One hand pressed protectively over her belly, the other jabbed a finger at me.

“This isn't over! My stomach hurts from the stress. She started this, so she gets on her knees and apologizes!”

Malcolm's gaze faltered for a moment, but in the end, he turned to me and gave the order.

“I know you're upset, and that's why you forged the test results to scare Vivian.”

“But she's carrying my child. She can't handle that kind of shock, and she shouldn't have to suffer.”

“Just apologize.”

A deafening buzz filled my skull, and the murmurs around us erupted all at once.

“Isn't Mr. Farley supposed to be famous for doting on his wife? He actually cheated?”

“And now he wants the wife to kneel to the mistress? The world's gone upside down.”

“So what if she hasn't gotten pregnant in seven years? Dr. Thomas is still young, and she's the Miracle Surgeon. Why couldn't he just wait?”

……

A taste of rust flooded the back of my throat. I'd bitten clean through my lip.

I stretched my mouth into a smile and walked toward Vivian.

“You're right, it is my fault——”

“Slap!”

My palm cracked across her smug face.

“You slept with another woman's husband, got knocked up with a bastard child, and had the nerve to flaunt it in my face. My only mistake was not slapping you sooner. I should've put you in your place the second you walked in.”

“Smack!”

I backhanded Malcolm across the face.

“My real mistake was believing your promises. Seven wasted years.”

“It's over, Malcolm. I want a divorce.”

I swallowed the swarming ache in my chest and turned to leave.

Without warning, a shove from behind sent me crashing stomach-first into the edge of the wall.

The old wound, the one I'd gotten shielding his mother from a knife, screamed to life. The pain buckled my legs and I crumpled to the floor, cold sweat soaking through the back of my shirt.

“Seems I've spoiled you too much. That's why you act like a lunatic, slapping me and my woman. You——”

His tirade cut off the moment he saw the state I was in. He crouched down, something uncertain flickering across his face.

“I just wanted you to get on your knees. I didn't mean to hurt you. Is it your stomach?”

His palm settled over my abdomen on instinct, fingers kneading with a gentleness that was practiced, familiar.

Every time the weather turned gray and wet, the scar that had once cut down to bone would throb without mercy.

Malcolm had taught himself massage therapy just to ease my pain, because he couldn't stand to watch me suffer.

The same tenderness that once gave me warmth now made my skin crawl.

I shoved his hand away：“Worry about yourself first. I'd suggest you get a blood test too, because there's a good chance you're already infected.”

“Enough!”

Malcolm's gaze went dark：“Whether Vivian is clean or not, I know better than anyone. Shut your mouth.”

“Ugh, babe, don't waste your breath on that old hag.” Vivian clung to his arm, all doe-eyed and pouting. “If she wants a divorce, let her have it. She's the one who can't have kids. She's the one at fault. Make her leave the marriage with nothing!”

I caught the greedy spark lighting up Vivian's eyes and let out a cold laugh.

“Oh, someone's leaving with nothing, alright. According to the prenuptial agreement, the party at fault is the one who cheated. That's Malcolm. And he's the one who walks away empty-handed.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

Malcolm glared at me.

I glared right back：“Try me.”

His answer was a kick driven by pure rage.

I hit the floor, arms curling around my stomach, face drained of color. Not a trace of pity remained on his. He only snarled：“I never knew you were this calculating. Have you been scheming to take my assets this whole time?”

A bitter, broken laugh scraped out of my throat：“You're the one who insisted on signing the prenup. You said it was my safety net. If you hadn't cheated, who could have used it against you?”

Time really was a cruel magician, twisting love beyond recognition.

Vivian seized the moment, stepping forward and raising her stiletto over my lower abdomen, ready to bring it down.

At the last possible second, a figure threw herself toward me.

A sharp voice rang out：“All of you, stop! Nobody lays a hand on a member of the Farley family!”

It was my mother-in-law. The woman who had loved me like her own daughter.

Vivian yanked her foot back in fright.

The wire-taut tension inside me snapped, and the tears I'd been holding back for so long finally fell.

But Rosalie Farley didn't so much as glance at me. She stepped right over my body, took Vivian's hands in hers.

“Vivian, sweetheart, you texted me that someone was bullying you, so I rushed right over to back you up. Now, who's the one with a death wish?”

Vivian's smugness returned in an instant. She pointed down at me, crumpled on the floor：“Her!”

I lifted my head, a wrecked mess, and through the blur of tears met my mother-in-law's ice-cold stare.

That was when it hit me. Malcolm's affair. She'd known all along.

The "Farley family member" she meant was Vivian.

It felt like cotton had been stuffed down my throat. When I finally spoke, my voice was barely a rasp：“……Why?”

I had saved Rosalie's life twice.

The first time, it was late-stage recurrent ovarian cancer. The surgery was so high-risk that I was the only surgeon in the world who could perform it. I stood at that operating table for sixteen straight hours before I pulled her back from the brink.