I came across Vicky's latest update.

[He came over immediately to bring me medicine when I caught a cold.]

I was in unbearable pain, yet Zach abandoned me without hesitation because of Vicky’s minor cold.

At that moment, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing—laughing at how ridiculous and pitiful I had become. But as I laughed, tears started streaming down my face.

Wiping them away, I picked up my phone and messaged the professor:

[Professor, I’ll be able to report to Florida in a week.]

I studied design in college and received an invitation from a foreign professor to further my studies. I turned down the opportunity back then because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Zach.

But the professor never gave up on me, and we kept in touch. For the first time, I agreed to his offer. He replied immediately, sending a flood of messages in excitement.

After responding to all of them, I fell asleep in the hospital ward.

I was half-asleep when the sudden ringing of my phone startled me awake. On the other end of the line, Zach’s familiar, slurred voice came through.

"Yvette, come pick me up. You have to come pick me up."

His brother took over the call, giving me the bar’s address. I hesitated for a while but eventually decided to go.

The dim lights of the bar cast a shadowy haze over the scene. There Zach was, nestled in Vicky’s arms, French-kissing her passionately.

His brothers jeered around him.

"Zach, you and the eldest sister-in-law still make the best match!"

"Zach, now that Yvette Lane’s back, you can finally stop enduring Vicky’s nonsense!"

My unexpected arrival silenced their teasing.

I could understand their perspective. From the outside, it must have looked like I was repaying Zach’s kindness. Maybe even Zach himself believed that.

Despite being in Vicky’s arms, the moment Zach saw me, he stumbled over and clung to me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Yvette, hey, baby is here," he murmured drunkenly.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his behavior. He always acted like a spoiled child after drinking.

Under Zach’s insistence, I helped him to the parking lot.

The next morning, when he woke up, his face was clouded with irritation.

He barely touched the breakfast the maid brought, rubbing his temples instead.

"You didn’t make me hangover soup today," he grumbled.

I set my sandwich down and didn’t know how to respond.

I had already made up my mind to cut Zach out of my life.

I simply looked at him silently, offering no reply. My indifference made him uneasy, and he spoke again, panicking:

"I didn’t do anything bad last night, did I?"

I had seen him being intimate with Vicky and heard his brothers’ taunts. But I didn’t feel anything anymore. I needed moments like these—painful and undeniable truths—to harden my resolve.

My silence only deepened his guilt. He suggested dinner that evening, speaking with a flattering tone.

We met at a restaurant later that night.

The private dining room was beautifully decorated, with a breathtaking view of the Bund. But Zach’s sudden departure to fetch wine turned into an encounter with Vicky.

When he returned, he explained curtly, "Just ran into a friend."

I smiled faintly and nodded, pretending not to care.

As I quietly ate, I watched them talking just outside the room.

After Zach stepped away again, Vicky entered, her gaze sharp and confrontational.

"Didn’t you see it all?" she sneered.

I ignored her comment, but she grabbed my collar, her previously composed demeanor replaced with fury.

"Don’t think that just because he went home with you last night, you’ve won."

I calmly pushed her arm away and kept my distance. Before I could respond, her lips curled into a strange smile. She suddenly leaned back, letting herself fall.

Zach’s angry voice echoed as he rushed into the room.

"Yvette, what are you doing?"

He hurried to help Vicky up as she leaned weakly against his chest.

In a trembling, wronged tone, she murmured, "Zach, it’s okay. I just lost my balance."

She was clearly lying, yet Zach harshly accused me:

"Hurry up and apologize to Vicky!"

I caught a glimpse of Vicky’s triumphant smirk.

Keeping my tone indifferent, I repeated, "It wasn’t me. This has nothing to do with me."

Zach grabbed my collar, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Why do you still act like some spoiled princess?" he spat.

"Don’t forget—you don’t have your parents to shield you anymore. You’re nothing but a dog I keep around now."

Zach always knew how to cut me where it hurt most.

My parents passed away suddenly a year ago. They had been my pillar of strength, and their loss left me adrift. Since then, Zach’s treatment of me had grown colder and more distant. It was only the news of the baby that brought some warmth back into our relationship.

But now, his words crushed me.

It wasn’t enough for him to trample on my love—he ground my dignity into dust.

Despite the bitterness welling up inside, I lifted my chin and said, "If you don’t believe me, check the surveillance footage."

Zach glared at me with disappointment in his eyes before turning to embrace Vicky. Without another word, he walked out of the private room with her in his arms.

I stared at the river view through the window, but all I could feel was the piercing ache in my chest.

I never thought he would look at me with such disdain. When my parents passed away, I entrusted all their wealth to him, thinking we were building a future together. Yet, he regarded me as useless and reduced my worth to nothing more than an object.

Late that night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, when my phone buzzed with a series of messages.

[Little sister, I heard you’ve been chasing Zach for seven years. Funny how I’ve only been back for a few days, and you’re already losing.]

[Do yourself a favor—step aside now. I’d hate to see you humiliated any further.]

She even sent me intimate photos of her and Zach.

The images burned into my mind: their bodies entwined in bed, her perched on the kitchen counter with him between her legs. Every detail was visible.

My hands trembled as I stared at the screen.

I hadn’t expected Zach to be so eager. Vicky had only been back for three days.

I pulled the quilt over my head. Strangely, I couldn’t cry anymore. It was as if I’d already accepted the reality that Zach never loved me.

I didn’t know when he came home, but I felt his arms wrap around me as he sighed softly.

"Yvette, what am I going to do with you?"

I caught sight of faint kiss marks on his neck and the unmistakable scent of another woman’s perfume clinging to him.

Still, he held me close.

"You shouldn’t have hurt Vicky," he said.

I pulled away from his embrace, but his expression darkened.

"You’re so childish," he muttered.

"You’re coming with me tomorrow to apologize to her."

I closed my eyes, unwilling to see or speak to him any longer.

His hand moved to my abdomen, and his voice softened.

"The baby needs a good mother."

Those words hit me like a blow. The loss of our child was a painful reminder that Zach and I should have ended long ago.

When I didn’t respond, his anger flared.

"If you don’t apologize, I’ll scatter your parents’ ashes."

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. His threat was merciless. My parents had been the ones to save him, yet he now weaponized their memory against me.

My voice trembled as I replied, "I’ll apologize."

His expression eased into a satisfied smile, while despair crushed me like weight.

The next morning, Zach dragged me to the villa next door.

Vicky greeted us in her pajamas, her eyes brimming with glee.

Zach pushed my head down, forcing me to bow.

"Apologize to her," he ordered coldly.

Swallowing my pride and choking back tears, I said, "I’m sorry."

Vicky wrapped an arm around my shoulders with faux graciousness.

"It’s nothing serious," she said sweetly.

But as soon as Zach’s back was turned, she leaned in and hissed,

"Little sister, didn’t I tell you? You don’t stand a chance against me."

Her voice dripped with venom as she added,

"I’ve only been back a few days, and Zach’s already given me a villa and moved me right next door—just so we can spend more time together."

As she spoke, the pendant on her neck caught my attention—a red cinnabar talisman. My heart clenched. It was the same one my mother had painstakingly obtained for me, kneeling 81 times in prayer before she passed away.

When Zach was gravely ill, I had not only donated a kidney to save him but also gave him the talisman for protection. I never imagined he would give it to her.

My hand instinctively reached for the cinnabar. Zach suddenly grabbed my neck, his grip firm as he scolded me harshly.

"Yvette, haven’t you learned your lesson? How dare you try to fight with Vicky again?"

Tears streamed down my face, falling onto his hand. For a moment, there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but when he saw the talisman in my hand, his anger flared up again.

"It’s because of you!" he snapped. "You caused Vicky to sprain her foot last time. I gave it to her to keep her safe."

I stared at him, speechless, struggling to process his words. Summoning every ounce of humility, I pleaded softly,

"This is my mother’s keepsake. Please, can I have it back?"

Zach hesitated, seeming on the verge of agreeing, but Vicky interjected in a saccharine voice,

"But I like it too."

Zach froze, then softened his tone, patting my arm as if that would soothe me.

"Since Vicky likes it, let her wear it for a while, just for fun."

A bitter laugh escaped me as tears mixed with the sound of my voice. I laughed and cried until it hurt.

Zach pulled me into his arms.

"You’re pregnant," he said, almost chastising. "You shouldn’t get so worked up."

His words only fueled my anguish. Before anyone could react, I snatched the talisman and swallowed it whole.

Panic flashed across Zach’s face. He pried my mouth open in a frenzy before sweeping me into his arms and rushing me to the hospital.

As I underwent the stomach-pumping procedure, Zach hovered anxiously. When the cinnabar was finally expelled, he heaved a sigh of relief.

But before I could even reach for the soiled talisman, Vicky’s shoe came down on it with a deliberate stomp. The red beads shattered into countless fragments.

"Oops, sorry," she said, her voice dripping with mockery.

Zach’s indifferent response stung even more.

"It’s better this way. That thing was driving Yvette crazy."

I stared at the broken pieces on the floor, my heart breaking alongside them. They had trampled on the love and legacy my parents had left me.

As the doctor explained post-procedure instructions, Zach asked casually,

"By the way, Doctor, how’s the baby?"

But before the doctor could answer, Vicky tugged him away. He didn’t wait to hear the rest.

I returned home alone, my mind racing. Without a second thought, I arranged to relocate my parents’ graves. I needed to expedite my plans to leave. I couldn’t stay in this city any longer.

As I waited for the move, our wedding anniversary arrived.

Zach insisted on celebrating, refusing to take no for an answer. But just as we were about to leave, Vicky emerged from the neighboring villa and slid into the front seat without hesitation.

"She just got back from America and wanted to join us," Zach said lightly. "Don’t mind her."

I watched Vicky munching on potato chips, occasionally feeding Zach one.

My thoughts wandered back to the past. Zach used to hate anyone eating in his car. I once sipped water during a long ride, and he poured the rest over me in anger. Even when I was starving and in pain, he forbade anything that might leave a smell.

But now? Love had clearly redrawn his boundaries.

The anniversary dinner felt surreal. The waiter, confused by their overly familiar behavior, mistook them for a couple.

I ate the steak Zach had cut for me while watching him and Vicky share nostalgic laughter. Their closeness didn’t stir a single ripple in my heart anymore.

When the meal ended, I handed Zach a neatly sealed envelope.

"This is for you," I said. "Open it when you’re home."

His brows furrowed slightly as he accepted it.

Suddenly, the fire alarm blared, throwing the restaurant into chaos. People scrambled toward the exits, and I found myself caught in the crowd.

Zach, however, didn’t hesitate. He instinctively pulled Vicky into his arms and ran for the door.

I stood there, jostled by the panicked crowd, watching his retreating figure.

For a fleeting moment, I reached out, desperate to grab the edge of his coat, hoping he’d look back and take me with him.

But he never turned around.

I stood there alone, helpless as the panicked crowd pushed me forward. My feet were trampled multiple times, the sharp pain bringing tears to my eyes. I couldn't tell what hurt more—my feet or my heart.

Dragging my luggage, I finally made my way to the airport, still shaken. The images of people consumed by flames haunted me, as did Zach's cold indifference.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and sent a single message to Zach:

[Goodbye.]