After 10 years of trying, Marianne Marlowe was finally pregnant. But Kennedy Bryden, her partner, was preoccupied with taking care of Suzanne, the daughter of his first love.

The little girl only had to call him "Uncle Ken," and he would cook for her in the middle of the night or risk his life for her future.

But when it came to Marianne, all he had left was impatience.

"Do you really have to compete with a little girl, Marianne?"

Marianne smiled faintly. "Not anymore."

She made her decision. She let him—and their baby—go.

——

Marianne walked away from the life they had built together. She eventually married her childhood sweetheart, a man with powerful connections, and became pregnant again with a long-awaited baby.

But this time, Kennedy was on his knees, crying and begging her.

"Marianne, please… come back with our baby."

[Dr. Obrien, I've made up my mind. Schedule me for an abortion as soon as possible.]

Marianne typed out another text.

[Director Angus, I'm not planning to conceive anymore. You mentioned before that a certain investor wanted me for a film. Is that offer still available?]

Replies came almost immediately.

Director Angus's message was full of enthusiasm. [Absolutely! The investor returned to the country and funded this project specifically for you, Marianne. The role is yours whenever you're ready!]

Marianne's response was quick. [Great! I'll come in tomorrow for a fitting!]

Dr. Obrien's response, however, carried a softer tone of concern. [Marianne, you've gone through so much to get pregnant. Are you sure you want to abort your baby?]

Marianne's stomach churned as she read the message. Instinctively, she touched her belly, where the baby she had worked so hard for was growing.

'I'm so sorry, my baby. Please forgive me,' she apologized quietly. 'I can't bring you into a world where your dad doesn't want you.'

Her thoughts were interrupted by Kennedy's sharp voice.

"What's wrong with you now?" he asked as he walked into the foyer, his irritation filling the air.

Marianne quickly pulled her hand away from her belly, forcing her voice to stay calm. "Nothing," she replied quietly.

Kennedy frowned. "If you've got something to say, just say it already. I need to get back to Suzie."

As he moved toward the door, Marianne didn't bother to explain further.

"Go on," she said, her voice hollow. "She's more important than me anyway. I'm fine—I just had a stomachache."

Kennedy let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the space between his eyebrows as if exhausted.

"Marianne, look, Suzie can't take care of herself. She needs me. But you?" He paused, his tone hardening. "Why do you always have to compete with a kid?!"

Marianne froze at his words, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.

'Right, why am I still trying?' she asked inwardly. 'He's not the man I fell in love with anymore.'

Her mind drifted back to when they first met. They had been on a film set, and Kennedy was being bullied by the lead actor. He was forced to kneel for hours, repeating the same scene until his knees were raw and bruised.

Marianne couldn't bear it and stood up for him, only to get blacklisted herself. Her punishment came swiftly—freezing water scenes in the dead of winter, with no one helping when she nearly drowned—except Kennedy.

He couldn't even swim, but he jumped in after her, coughing and choking as he pulled her. Cradling her frozen face in his hands, he swore he would protect her for the rest of his life.

After Kennedy became a superstar, Marianne had wanted to return to acting, but he wouldn't hear of it.

"I'll make the money," he told her. "You don't need to suffer in this industry. Just stay home and take care of our family."

And that's how she spent the next 10 years—trapped as the perfect housewife. From reviewing contracts for his films to sewing buttons on his shirts, everything fell on her shoulders.

Their distant but quiet life changed the moment the young girl Suzanne entered the picture.

Suzanne's mother, Kennedy's first love, had passed away, leaving the nine-year-old girl in his care. The young girl even took his last name.

From that moment on, in the parts of his life Marianne couldn't see, Kennedy poured all his love into Suzanne.

All Marianne got in return was indifference.

Meanwhile, Marianne's health had never fully recovered from the icy lake incident.

To have a baby, she endured endless injections and stuck to a crazy strict diet, weighing every morsel of veggies to the gram. And when ovulation came, she endured getting humiliated—just to beg Kennedy to make love with her.

When Marianne saw her ultrasound report, she jumped up and down in the hospital hallway. She spent the rest of the day clearing out entire shelves from one maternity store to another.

The day also marked her and Kennedy's 10th wedding anniversary. She called him, saying, "Hey, can you come home early tonight? I have something really exciting to tell you!"

For once, Kennedy sounded thoughtful. "How do you make comfort soup that doesn't taste bitter? I've been trying to figure it out."

Marianne quickly sent him a list of her best recipes, feeling hopeful. Maybe he was planning a sweet surprise for their anniversary—or maybe even for the baby!

But the hours dragged by, and midnight came without him.

Instead of hearing the door open, her phone buzzed. It was a notification from Instagram—a post from Suzanne's account.

[Uncle Ken's comfort soup, y'all! Mmm, so sweet! Not bitter at all! I swear my cramps are completely gone!]

The post showed a rare photo of Kennedy in the kitchen, sweat dripping from his forehead as he stirred a pot of soup.

Sweet? Marianne had never been given that kind of sweetness.

Bitter? Suzanne had never had to swallow the bitterness Marianne endured every day.

As she thought about everything she'd endured over the years, Marianne couldn't stop shaking. Sitting on the couch, tears ran down her face, cutting like knives.

For years, Suzanne had always clung to Kennedy, calling him "Uncle Ken" in the sweetest voice. Whenever Marianne tried to get time alone with him, Suzanne would conveniently fall "sick," cut her wrists, or even threaten to jump off a building.

"You can't have kids, Uncle Ken," Suzanne had once told him. "If you do, you won't have enough love left for me."

And Kennedy had listened—he'd pull further and further away from Marianne, growing colder with each passing year.

But with Suzanne? He was constantly warm and attentive. She'd get a scratch, and he'd fly home from another country to check on her. He skipped milestone moments in his life with Marriane just to attend Suzanne's debut.

It was clear: Marianne would never win against Suzanne and would never be enough for Kennedy.

But now? Marianne didn't want to keep him for herself anymore.

She didn't want anything to do with him.

"If your stomach hurts, take some meds," Kennedy said flatly. "Don't be dramatic. You're not a kid."

His face was cold as he handed her a box of painkillers. "Three times a day, one pill each time. But since your stomach's weak, take half a pill."

Marianne could tell from the peeling labels and half-empty packs—they were Suzanne's leftovers.

"Got it," Marianne said, her voice resigned. She didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

Not now, not ever again.

Kennedy must've realized he'd been too harsh. Or maybe the tears on her face made him feel guilty. His tone shifted slightly as he added, "Here, I got you something."

He pulled out a large box, wrapped in purple—the color she'd always loved.

It had been years since he'd made any effort like this.

Marianne wiped her nose and carefully unwrapped the box.

But the first thing she saw was the label: Anti-Aging Kit.

"Suzie helped me pick it out," Kennedy said proudly. "She thought it was perfect for you. Do you like it?"

'Anti-aging? I'm only 29. How old did Suzanne think I am?' Marianne thought bitterly.

Clearly, this wasn't just a gift—it was Suzanne's latest insult.

Every time the three of them attended a party, Suzanne would cling to Kennedy's arm, calling him "Uncle Ken" in the sweetest tone.

But when she addressed Marianne, her voice would rise, making sure everyone could hear loud and clear: "Aunt Marianne!"

Marianne was only 10 years older than her. Calling her "Marianne" or even "Miss Marianne" would've worked just fine.

But no—Suzanne always emphasized "Aunt," highlighting their age gap, rubbing it in like a little jab to remind Marianne how much younger and more desirable Suzanne seemed in comparison. It used to make Marianne's skin crawl.

The anti-aging "gift" might've snapped Marianne or might've made her explode into a scene. But now? She just didn't care anymore.

[Uncle Ken! Does Aunt Marianne like the gift I picked? [smiling face with smiling eyes emoji] [star-struck emoji]]

A message popped up on Kennedy's phone.

Marianne glanced at it and caught a glimpse of his reply: [Oh, she loves it! Suzie, you did a great job picking that gift!]

She couldn't help but notice how this usually cold and distant man now had a phone full of cute cat emojis.

With a blank expression on her face, she shut the phone and tossed the gift box aside. No yelling, no crying—just a suffocating silence.

For once, Kennedy was caught off guard. Something about Marianne seemed… different.

"Now that I gave you the gift, I should get back—Suzie needs me. She can't handle things on her own."

He said it like he was testing her, waiting for a reaction.

But Marianne's voice came out calm. "Kennedy, let's break up."

Her expression was unreadable. Her words sounded like she'd practiced them a hundred times.

Kennedy blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm serious," Marriane replied. "Let's end this, Kennedy."

Her eyes, usually soft and timid, now gleamed with an unfamiliar resolve.

"You're breaking up with me because I stayed with Suzie when she wasn't feeling well? Is that it?" His face turned red as he grabbed her wrist tightly. "Don't forget—without me, how will you even survive? I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Don't bring it up again."

She didn't understand. 'Isn't this what he wanted? Shouldn't he be relieved I'm the one walking away?'

Before she could say anything, Kennedy's phone buzzed again. This time, a series of texts lit up the screen.

[Uncle Ken, you don't need to come take care of me. I'll be fine.]

[By the way, how do I turn off the gas stove? Uncle Ken, the house smells weird…]

The text made his face pale. Letting go of Marianne's wrist, he grabbed his keys and bolted for the door.

The sudden movement knocked Marianne off balance, and she stumbled, her hand brushing against the gift box she'd prepared. The lid fell open, revealing a tiny pink bunny-themed baby outfit.

Kennedy paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder. "What's that?"

A flicker of panic crossed Marianne's face, but she quickly smirked and said sarcastically, "What else? A bunny costume. Why don't you let your darling Suzie wait, and we can have some fun instead?"

Kennedy scowled. "Suzie might be in danger, and this is what you're thinking about? Marianne, do you even have a heart?"

With that, he slammed the door behind him. The loud bang made Marianne's stomach churn.

"Yeah, I guess I don't have a heart anymore," she muttered to herself. "It's been broken beyond repair long ago."

Slowly, she stood up, gathered the baby clothes, and called an orphanage to come pick up a donation.

If Kennedy had stopped—just for a second—he would've seen what those clothes meant. But he couldn't even spare her a moment.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. A message from Dr. Obrien.

[Marianne, based on your health, it's best to schedule the procedure around the 50th day of your pregnancy.]

Marianne still had to wait 20 more days. That thought made her restless.

Her plan had been simple: break up, get the procedure, and leave Kennedy's place.

But now she had to hide her pregnancy, find work quickly, and build up enough money to escape the Brydens for good.

At the same time, the doctor was texting Kennedy.

[Kennedy, I've been stalling as much as I can. Do something before it's too late. Take care of Marianne and fix this.]

Confused, Kennedy frowned at the message. 'Stalling for what?' he wondered.

But he was so busy that he could only glance at the text and turn his phone off.

He was on set, helping Suzanne prepare for her audition.

Out of respect for the famous actor, the director had agreed to let the young girl play a small supporting role.

"Uncle Ken," she whispered. "I'm so nervous my stomach's acting up. Did you bring the meds?"

Kennedy froze. The painkillers—he'd left them with Marianne the night before.

For a brief moment, her face flashed in his mind, and he felt something heavy settle in his chest.