After entering a shotgun marriage with my CEO husband, my mom and my sister naturally moved into the Foster Estate to live off the family.

When my feet swelled during pregnancy, he would wash his hands and massage them for me.

Before the baby was even born, he had already chosen an heir’s name.

But when my CEO husband, Ryan Foster, was diagnosed with a terminal illness, incurable and irreversible, I was the first to burn through a million dollars of savings.

I quickly terminated the pregnancy and jumped on the trend of posting TikTok “Cheers to Myself” videos, designed to provoke.

Facing the camera, I smiled and said, “First glass, to my younger self. I was lucky enough to finish school with the help of kind strangers and part-time jobs to pay tuition, then married into wealth.”

“Second glass, still to myself. After Ryan got sick, I chose to end my pregnancy. That took courage—I didn’t want a child to hold me back in life.”

The online backlash was explosive, people furious at my shamelessness.

I only chuckled softly.

“Don’t be so quick to judge. Soon, all of you will owe me an apology.”

The moment the words left my mouth, the internet trolls erupted.

“Now anyone can just make these videos?”

“Are you dreaming? Your partner gets sick and you immediately abort the baby—are you even human? And you want us to apologize to you?”

“Keep dreaming!”

“People like you always get what’s coming!”

Some even DM’d me, asking for my address so they could send me razor blades.

I replied to each one.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here waiting. I bet you won’t dare.”

My words only enraged them further, their insults flooding the comment section.

Watching the chaos, I lifted the corner of my lips faintly.

Just as I was about to type, the sound of the door opening came—Ryan’s voice.

“Babe, do you want something to eat?”

“Mrs. Zhang said you went to the hospital today. Are you feeling unwell? I’m sorry, I haven’t paid enough attention to you lately because of my health.”

Ryan’s tone was warm, the tone of a good husband.

And he really was a good husband. No matter what happened, he was always the first to arrive, and he never once lost his temper with me.

Every anniversary gift was carefully prepared.

Our love never faded with time. During pregnancy, when my feet swelled, he massaged them himself every single night.

At a college reunion a month ago, his buddies teased him with laughter.

“Ryan, looks like you’ve really fallen hard.”

“But every ugly daughter-in-law eventually has to meet her in-laws. You two are already married—when will you take Emily Dawson to meet your mom?”

Standing at the door, eavesdropping, I couldn’t help but clutch the hem of my dress, my heart full of hope.

But Ryan didn’t answer. He only fixed his deep eyes on the man who had spoken.

That man immediately realized his mistake, panic flashing across his face as he stammered to change the subject.

“Ryan, it was my stupid mouth. Don’t be mad at me, okay?”

Another one of Ryan’s closest friends scolded him.

“Seriously, watch your tongue.”

“You know who Ryan is.”

“If he really loved Emily, would he have transplanted his and Lily Dawson’s embryo into her? Honestly, I can’t wait to see Emily’s reaction when she finds out the truth.”

Those words cut into me like knives, over and over.

In that moment, I couldn’t endure it any longer. I turned and fled.

Inside the private room, people had already noticed the commotion outside.

When they saw it was only a stray cat, everyone let out a breath of relief.

But Ryan’s expression didn’t change.

He stared at the cat, lost in thought, and Emily’s morning reminder echoed in his mind, leaving him uneasy.

Maybe Emily had really been there just now.

But he quickly dismissed the thought. After all, the baby was already in her womb, and the due date was only months away. Even if Emily knew, there was nothing she could do.

One man even dared to ask boldly, “Ryan, if that was Emily outside just now, what would you do?”

Ryan paused, then glanced coolly at the man.

His tone was casual, as though he were talking about something trivial.

“So what if she knows? I’ve already made her resign without severance. And she’s still pregnant—she can’t run far.”

“Haha, Ryan, you’re ruthless!”

I had barely gathered myself when the knocking on the door grew louder.

I quickly called out, “Ryan, don’t open it yet. I just woke up—I’m changing.”

“Alright.”

Hearing my voice, Ryan stopped knocking, but I didn’t hear him walk away.

…

I sighed. I knew I couldn’t avoid this forever. I stuffed a pillow against my stomach to pretend the baby was still there.

Facing Ryan, I forced a loving smile, as if our marriage were still full of tenderness.

“Ryan, I went for a checkup today. I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

Ryan rested his chin on my lap, gazing at me with those soulful eyes, his voice gentle.

“Emily, we will. When the time comes, we can deliver early by C-section, and the baby can go straight into the incubator.”

“Emily, I’ve seen the suffering you’ve endured during pregnancy. If only we hadn’t decided to keep this child… but once he’s born, I’ll raise him right.”

Ryan valued this child deeply. At first, I had naively believed we would be happy forever.

But I never expected to become nothing more than a vessel for him and Lily to have a child.

Love can be performed too. Looking at Ryan’s face, I said calmly, “There’s no chance anymore.”

Ryan froze.

“Emily, what do you mean, no chance?”

I smiled lightly, pretending it was nothing.

“Nothing. Ryan, I was just thinking about our baby. You’ll meet him soon.”

Just then, there was another knock, followed by a lively, playful voice—Lily’s.

“Sis? Brother-in-law? Are you inside?”

I noticed Ryan’s expression flicker unnaturally.

Then Lily bounded toward me, her eyes locked on my stomach.

“Sis, how’s the baby? You’ve got to take care of my little nephew! I can’t wait to play with him.”

She giggled, reaching out to touch my belly.

But I remembered the words I’d overheard at the reunion and felt a wave of disgust. Instinctively, I stepped back.

Still, I forced myself to act the part of a caring sister.

“Of course. My son will be in your care, Lily. I believe you’ll make a great aunt.”

Lily’s face froze for a moment at my words, then quickly recovered.

“Sis, I’ll take care of my nephew for sure.”

She reached for my belly, her eyes shining with delight.

But I ignored her, rising to leave without hesitation.

Her hand hung awkwardly in the air, her face a mask of disbelief. She hadn’t expected me to treat her that way.

As soon as I left, her expression twisted into something sinister.

“Ryan, does Emily know something? She wouldn’t even let me touch her stomach.”

Ryan pulled Lily into his arms, nuzzling against her chest.

“Relax, Emily isn’t that smart.”

He lifted his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his gaze burning with lust as he looked at her.

“Besides, I’m dying anyway. Even if Emily realizes the baby isn’t hers, if she tries to terminate, she won’t survive the internet backlash.”

Listening outside, my heart turned ice-cold.

Then Lily spoke again.

“Exactly. Emily will never know that she’s actually Mrs. Foster’s biological daughter. I’ve never once treated her like a sister.”

“Thank goodness Mom had the foresight to switch us at birth. That old Mrs. Foster raised someone else’s son her whole life and never knew. She and Emily really are two of a kind.”

The sounds that followed from inside left no doubt what they were doing.

My fists clenched so tight my palms nearly bled, yet I couldn’t move.

Memories of my mom’s behavior surged up.

She had never acted like a loving mother to a pregnant daughter, but more like a hostile mother-in-law.

During my early pregnancy, I suffered severe morning sickness, retching over the toilet every day.

Instead of pity, my mom pinched her nose in disgust and scolded me for making the bathroom smell.

But with Lily, she was endlessly patient.

Lily had been brought home when I was just old enough to remember. My mom had looked at me sternly.

“Emily, she’s your sister now. You must protect her with your life. Do you understand?”

Confused, I’d agreed.

And I did. I always thought Lily was the outsider, and I was the real daughter, so I gave her everything I could, even hiding treats to share with her.

I never imagined I was the outsider all along.

I stood there laughing and crying, then made up my mind. Later, I yanked strands of Ryan’s and my mom’s hair, plus my own, and called an Uber to the hospital.

When the results came back, my heart sank into an abyss.

I wasn’t my mom’s biological daughter—Ryan was.

So all the unfair treatment I had endured made sense.

When Lily was sick with a fever, my mom slapped me bloody for “not taking care of my sister.”

When Lily didn’t finish her school assignments, my mom blamed me.

I had thought it was grief over my father’s death that made her so cruel.

But no—it was because I wasn’t her real daughter.

Stumbling out of the hospital, dazed, I lifted my head and froze.

Across the street stood a woman who looked strikingly like me, tears in her beautiful eyes.

In that instant, I knew—I was looking at my real mother.