### Chapter 3

They thought I'd back down after all that.

I didn't.

I pushed the divorce papers closer：

“No explanations needed. Sign, Frederick.”

He stared for two full seconds, then let out a cold laugh：

“Don't be stupid. Walk out that door and you can't even feed yourself.”

I looked at the face in front of me, so familiar yet so foreign, and felt a disappointment I had never known before.

So even he saw me that way.

Then why was I still bending over backward for this?

I was about to speak when his phone rang at his waist.

He answered, and his expression shifted：“Don't be scared. I'm coming right now.”

Then he looked at me, impatient：

“Vanessa's being harassed by some guys. I have to go.”

“I've been good enough to you all these years. Vanessa and I are just friends. Don't you dare start this again.”

He swept the divorce papers into the trash and slammed the door on his way out.

Bertha watched him go and let out a sharp snort：“Ungrateful little wretch. Get out of my house.”

I didn't bother acknowledging the insults at my back. I walked straight out.

It wasn't until I reached the road that I realized Frederick had already taken the car to pick up Vanessa.

He couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt at all, yet he'd forgotten I was pregnant.

And he'd forgotten that five years ago, kneeling at my parents' graves, he'd sworn to protect me for the rest of my life.

Maybe the vow had been sincere at the time. Too bad hearts change.

The person who promised to protect me was the one who hurt me the most.

The area was remote. There wasn't a single cab to hail.

I stared down the pitch-black mountain road, clenched my fists, and started walking.

By the time my legs felt like lead, my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

It was Vanessa.

“Did you and Frederick have a fight? He looked awful when he got here.”

“He's in a much better mood now, though. I took very good care of him.”

In the photo she'd attached, a man stood with his back to the camera, showering. Scratch marks streaked across his back, and the steam did nothing to hide that tall, familiar frame.

I saved the photo without a word and called a friend who worked as a private investigator.

“You said you had dirt on Vanessa Sterling? I'll buy it. Whatever it costs.”

“And dig into my husband's assets while you're at it.”

It took me a full four hours to walk home. The instant I turned the key, I heard laughter inside.

“Just relax and stay here. Nobody's going to bother you.”

Frederick's voice. Soft. Gentle.

I pushed the door open. Vanessa was on the couch. Frederick stood over her holding a bowl of something nutritious, spooning it carefully to her lips：

“The doctor said you unsettled the baby. Stay still—I've got it.”

I stood there, staring at the two of them, and a sharp pain pushed through my chest, as if the home I'd lived in for five years had really been theirs all along.

Vanessa spotted me and immediately stood：

“Audrey, you're back.”

She still had that flawless skin, that perfect face. She didn't look pregnant at all.

Meanwhile the hormones had wrecked me. My once-clear complexion had broken out, I'd gained over twenty pounds, and the face reflected in the glass cabinet was oily and hollowed out.

Frederick set the bowl down and glanced at me, his tone flat：

“Vanessa's apartment was tracked down by some obsessive fans. I told her she could stay with us a few days.”

Vanessa came over and reached for my hand：

“I was just so scared, and Frederick insisted on bringing me here. You don't mind, right?”

I shook her hand off and stared at her, cold.

“You're a celebrity. You think seducing a married man is something to be proud of?”

“That's not what this is, I……”

Vanessa turned to Frederick with wounded eyes, her lashes already glistening, a tear about to fall.

He pulled her behind him instantly and fixed me with a hard stare：“I told you, there's nothing between me and Vanessa. Can you stop with the pointless jealousy?”

The way he shielded her from me made me feel like I was the shameless other woman.

I swallowed the burn in my nose and pulled out the divorce papers I'd fished back out of the trash, every word deliberate.

“I'm not jealous. I'm giving you what you want.”

My eyes, steady and unblinking, held his.

“Audrey……”

His heartbeat stuttered without warning, and he reached for me.

### Chapter 4

A student had gone after Frederick once. When I found out, I wouldn't let it go—kept asking, kept pushing—and he gave me a full week of silence for it.

After that, the smallest thing could set my nerves on edge.

This time, he'd assumed at first that “divorce” was just another bid for attention.

Now he was confused. Why wasn't I fighting with Vanessa? Why wasn't I even making a scene?

What he didn't understand was that jealousy had lost all meaning.

The harder I fought, the further his heart tilted toward Vanessa and her soft, wounded act.

More than that, I simply didn't care anymore.

Just as Frederick was about to reach for me, Vanessa let out a sharp cry：

“Frederick, my stomach hurts so bad!”

His expression changed instantly. He pulled his hand back, scooped her up, and rushed for the door.

“I'm taking Vanessa to the hospital. We'll talk when I get back!”

He looked frantic, cradling her like she was something precious.

I slammed the divorce papers down on the coffee table, turned, and went upstairs to pack.

Late that night, Frederick climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

“Audrey, I know I've been neglecting you lately. I know you're upset.”

“But Vanessa and I really are just friends. Her boyfriend's overseas, and she's pregnant with no one to look after her. That's the only reason I let her move in, just to keep her safe for now.”

I lay silent in the dark.

Did he actually believe that after what I'd seen with my own eyes, I'd still swallow his lies?

“Once this whole thing with the obsessive fan blows over, she'll move out. I promise. Everything will go back to normal.”

His voice dropped lower, softer：“Audrey, I love you.”

He sounded exactly the way he used to—same warmth, same voice, as if nothing had changed.

All I felt was disgust.

Maybe the tenderness was real. But so was the child he'd made with someone else.

I wrenched myself free of his arms. I couldn't stand another second of his touch.

I could feel his gaze lingering on my back for a long time.

The next morning, I woke to the smell of cooking.

I walked into the living room and found Frederick—who had never once set foot in the kitchen—wearing an apron, carrying a bowl of fish soup to Vanessa.

“The doctor said more fish soup makes the baby smarter.”

Vanessa spotted me and waved with a bright smile：

“Audrey, come join us! Frederick was up at six making this soup. You're so lucky—a home-cooked breakfast like this every morning.”

Frederick's hands went still.

I gave a faint smile：“He's never once made me breakfast.”

I glanced at the soup—my stomach turned—and headed for the bathroom.

“I can't stand the smell of fish. Never could.”

Vanessa followed me in.

Her face was all sincerity：“Audrey, I've never wanted to come between you two. Please don't overthink this.”

The moment the door closed behind her, the mask dropped：“If you're going to leave, leave already. He stopped caring about you a long time ago.”

Pity and triumph flickered together in her eyes.

“Did you know? He's already drawn up his will. Everything goes to me and our child. As for you and your kid—you can spend the rest of your lives in this crappy apartment.”

“Homewrecker really is your one true calling, isn't it.”

I met her gaze. My voice was calm, but it cut.

The color drained from Vanessa's face.

I lowered my voice further：

“Frederick may not know what you really are. I know exactly what you are.”

“I can walk away. But don't push me again.”

A beat later, Vanessa's lips slowly curved into a smile—quiet, unreadable, and promising nothing good.

### Chapter 5

Vanessa dropped to the floor, clutching her stomach, and screamed.

“My baby! Audrey, why did you push me?”

The next second, Frederick burst into the bathroom.

He saw Vanessa crumpled on the tiles, sobbing, and his face went dark as he turned on me.

“What did you do to her?!”

Before I could say a word, he shoved me aside and scooped up Vanessa, still crying her pretty little eyes out.

“Ah!”

I hit the cold tile floor hard, and a searing pain tore through my stomach.

Beneath me, a dark red stain slowly spread.

I reached for Frederick, terrified：“I didn't do anything to her. Frederick, my stomach……”

“Shut up. Don't fucking pretend with me.”

He didn't even glance at me. He carried Vanessa out the door and was gone.

I curled up on the floor, cold sweat soaking through every layer I wore.

My abdomen was screaming. My heart, though—that didn't hurt so much anymore.

I dragged myself upright, made it down the stairs one step at a time, and called a cab alone.

Blood ran down my legs. The driver was so frightened he blew through two red lights.

We passed the little park on the corner, and I suddenly remembered where it all began.

That same old tree. A boy standing under it, face going red because I'd told him first, nodding before he could get a full sentence out.

“Yeah, yeah……”

“I mean, I like you too, Audrey.”

The memory flickered past, so sweet it made me laugh out loud even as my eyes blurred with tears.

That “honest man” I'd found so endearingly sincere had only ever been something I invented.

Just last night, a full asset report on Frederick had landed in my inbox.

Hundreds of millions.

Even his parents weren't ordinary office workers. They were silent owners behind an entire company.

Yet he hadn't even been willing to give us a decent wedding.

I finally saw it for what it was: he had never loved me.

Five years of marriage, nothing but a game to him. A lie spun to keep me from ever learning about the money.

Sitting on the hospital bed, I pressed my hands against my hollow stomach, and my eyes went cold.

I dialed my attorney：

“I've sent over all the evidence. File to freeze Frederick Sanchez's assets.”

I'd meant to part on decent terms. No need for that now.

My phone buzzed. A message from Daniel Fleming, my college friend and CEO of Westfield Group.

“Tickets are booked. I'll send a car for you the day after tomorrow.”

“Good. See you then.”

The baby was gone. Five years of love, severed clean. It was time to leave.

At the gate, right before boarding, a text from Frederick.

“Do you have any idea Vanessa almost lost the baby because of you?”

“Fine, I lied to you. I slept with her. But if you're angry, take it out on me. What does she have to do with it?”

“Just apologize to Vanessa and we'll put it behind us. You only did all this because you love me too much, and being pregnant made you a little emotional. I get it.”

That interrogating tone, that lofty charity-dispensing attitude—I actually laughed.

What right did he have to defend Vanessa to me?

Where did he find the nerve to demand I apologize?

I typed fast：“In a few days, you can talk to my attorney. In court.”

Sent. Phone off. I walked onto the plane without looking back.

Once I stopped loving him, the whole sky opened up. I was done being someone's useless housewife. I had a career to claim—world-class AI engineer.

Eight hours later I landed and powered the phone back on.

Frederick's missed calls and messages hit the screen like artillery fire.

The first few dozen were all threats and warnings.

Then the tone shifted, fraying into agitation and unease.

By the last hundred or so, the long and short voice messages, the broken strings of text, they reeked of raw, bone-deep panic.

He had finally realized the divorce was real, and that I had slipped out of his grip for good.