For the fifth anniversary of my marriage to Ryan Caldwell, I prepared a lavish dinner. Every dish was carefully crafted—something special for this day. But just as he sat down, my sister Chloe Harrington’s name lit up on his ringing phone screen.

The sound of the chair scraping against the floor pierced the air. "I have to go to the hospital. Chloe's stomach condition flared up again. She did not eat properly."

Before I could even say a word to stop him, he was already halfway out the door. All I saw was his retreating figure, leaving me behind like a second thought.

The knot in my chest tightened. Tears fall into the untouched bowls of food. My hand reached instinctively toward my stomach, feeling a sharp, familiar pain twist inside me. Then, a mouthful of blood gushed out.

Ryan’s assistant, Lucas Parker, rushed to my side, panic flickering in his eyes. "We need to get you to a hospital now."

***

Just as I finished setting the last dish on the table, Ryan returned home hours later. I acted as if nothing had happened—as if this night still held meaning.

"You're back," I greeted him warmly. I didn't even take off my apron before going up to take his suit jacket. "Go wash your hands first; the dishes are ready."

He waved his hands, avoiding my movements without looking at me. Instead, he handed his coat to the assistant behind him.

"Why don't you go change first." After saying that, he walked off and washed his hands.

I hurriedly went upstairs and changed into a new outfit I had bought recently. I had recently lost so much weight that even the new clothes I had purchased a while ago were about not to hold up. My reflection looked like a ghost.

A wave of pain surged from my stomach again. I pressed a hand to it, drew in a shaky breath and forced myself to endure the discomfort. I sat across from him at the table, hoping to share even a small part of this night.

Just as I wanted to open my mouth to speak, an abrupt ringing of the phone rang again.

The smile that spread across Ryan’s face was the first I'd seen from him all day. And just like that, I knew. He answered immediately and in the next second, his face turned anxious. The sound of the chair scraping the floor cut through the silence once more.

"I have to go to the hospital. Chloe’s condition isn’t stable."

I didn't even have a chance to hold him back. Looking up, I saw only his back as he left in quick steps.

I stared at the beautifully arranged dishes, now cold and meaningless, turned into irony at this moment like a cruel joke at my expense.

The pain I had been holding back came crashing down all at once. The pain coming from my abdomen was magnified a million times over. Tears dripped into my bowl and with them came another mouthful of blood.

Ryan's assistant immediately came over and held my thin shoulders just before I collapsed. His face twisted with concern, looking panicked. "We have to get you to the hospital."

***

By the time the tests and treatments were done, the night outside had settled into complete darkness.

Lucas entered my room, holding a folder with my medical report. His voice carried a subtle tension. "You have stomach cancer, Madam."

He paused for a moment. "Does Mr. Caldwell know?"

Although Lucas was Ryan's assistant, I was even glad now that my husband left in too much of a hurry for Chloe and even forgot to bring him as an assistant. Otherwise, I would just die of pain in the villa and no one would notice.

I lay on the bed and shook my head slowly.

“Why haven’t you told him?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

Before I could answer, my phone rang. Ryan’s name appeared on the screen.

"Emma," his voice said briskly on the other end, "bring the soup you made today to the hospital. Chloe has just recovered and needs nutrition now."

“It's urgent. No need to recook it. Just heat it up.”

Before I could respond, I heard Chloe’s cheerful voice chiming in the background. "Ryan, what are you doing? Don't bother my sister—she's probably exhausted."

"Emma, I'm fine! You don't have to come over. Don’t worry about me. I even scolded Ryan for you."

Before she could finish her words, the phone was hung up.

The phone slipped from my trembling fingers and thrown to the side on the sofa.

I looked up at Lucas, searching for any trace of mockery or pity in his expression. There was none.

My pale and cracked lips twitched in a sad attempt at a smile. But my heart felt unbearably heavy, like a weight pressing on my chest.

"You go out first. I want to rest." I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Please don’t tell him about this."

Lucas hesitated, nodded and quietly left the room, leaving me with suffocating silence.

I wasn’t sure if Lucas would tell him anything. After all, he was only Ryan’s assistant.

Three days later, the doctor released me from the hospital with a pile of prescriptions and instructions to come in for regular check-ups. The painkillers gave me just enough strength to make it home by taxi, though my body felt fragile and hollow.

I was carrying a large stack of medication and before I even entered the door, I heard the sounds of playful banter coming from the villa.

A woman’s delicate, coquettish voice floated out. “Ryan, I don’t want to eat this.”

A man’s gentle reply followed. “Good girl, you just got out of the hospital. This is what I've made with my own hands—just eat a little, okay?”

Then came the clatter of chopsticks hitting the floor.

I quickly stepped over, grabbed the chopsticks from Ryan’s hand and hurled them to the ground with all the strength I could muster. My chest heaved as I fought to stay upright.

“Emma… why did you come back?” Chloe’s wide eyes blinked at me in surprise.

Ryan’s expression turned cold in an instant.

“This is my wife and your sister’s house. Why wouldn’t she come back?” he said icily. Then, he came to my side without hesitation and gently guided me to sit down.

I ignored him, raising my hand to point toward the door. “Get out,” I said, my voice hoarse but firm.

Perhaps it was my face's paleness or my voice's weariness, but Ryan waved his hand, signaling her to leave.

“Lucas, take Chloe home,” he ordered calmly.

Only then did I notice Lucas standing quietly in the corner, blending into the background. It seemed he hadn’t told Ryan anything about me—about the hospital or the cancer.

When they were gone, I struggled to pick up the medicine scattered on the floor. I could feel Ryan’s gaze locked on me.

He stepped closer, concern lacing his voice. “What is that?”

I clutched the medicine tightly and turned away from him. “It’s nothing. I had a bit of a cold, so I went to get some medicine.”

He gave a slight nod, not questioning me further—not asking where I had been these past few days or whether I had eaten.

A wave of exhaustion washed over me, pulling me down like an anchor. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Let’s get a divorce,” I whispered.

His head snapped up, disbelief written all over his face. “What did you say?”

I didn’t even look at him, my voice steady and emotionless. “I said, let’s get a divorce.”

He looked at me as if I had told him a bad joke. “Stop this nonsense, Emma.”

Ignoring my words, he pulled me toward the dining table and ladled a bowl of soup, carefully setting it in front of me. “You have a cold. Your body is weak and you’ve lost so much weight. Eat something.”

I glanced at the bowl, feeling nothing but nausea. Bitterness bubbled up inside me and I couldn’t stop the sarcasm from spilling out.

“This was for Chloe, wasn’t it? I doubt I am even worthy of eating it.”

His face, which was just wearing a smile, darkened, a little impatient. “Are you jealous?”

His voice grew stern. “Nothing is going on between me and Chloe. I only take care of her like a little sister. She is still young—you know that. Can’t you understand?”

I scoffed silently. Ryan had a real sister who had been living independently overseas for seven years. She was also still young. And yet, he never treated her like he doted on Chloe.

There were so many things I wanted to say and so many ways I wanted to fight back. But I was too tired. I didn't want to tangle with him any further. I picked up the medicine bag and headed upstairs without another word.

As I reached my room, a loud crash echoed from a place not far from the door—the sound of a car accident. Seconds later, Ryan’s phone rang, sharp and urgent.

“What? A car accident?” His voice tensed. “Is Chloe okay? I’m on my way.”

The front door slammed shut, the heavy thud ringing out like the final blow to my heart.

I sank to the floor, pressing my back against the wall. My knees came up to my chest and I buried my face in them as the familiar feeling of vomiting returned.

Suddenly, a memory surfaced—a moment from three years ago. It suddenly occurred to me when I had woken up one morning feeling queasy, stumbling toward the bathroom to wash up. Still groggy from sleep, Ryan rushed over to me, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Are you pregnant?” he asked eagerly, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door. “Let’s go to the hospital!”

But the doctor’s diagnosis was simple: I wasn’t pregnant. I was just unwell.

I would never forget the way Ryan’s joy evaporated, replaced by a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. At that moment, I should have realized something: I was never the one who mattered most to him.

It wasn’t my health or well-being he cared about. It was the child I didn’t have.

I must have fallen asleep at some point and I don't know how long it was before I woke up again from the pain. The room was already dim and I swayed on my feet as I tried to stand, barely catching the door handle to steady myself.

The crumpled bag of medicine was still clutched in my hand.

I pushed open the door, expecting to see Ryan back home. I was about to call out and ask him for some water—I didn’t even have the strength to get it myself.

But it wasn’t Ryan standing there. It was Lucas.

This was the second time in just a few days that he’d seen me in this pathetic state. Embarrassed but with no other option, I had to open my mouth and ask him for help.

“Can you get me a glass of water?”

He said nothing, only nodded and returned shortly with a glass. I swallowed the pills with the warm water, waiting a few moments for the pain to ease.

“You’re still working?” I asked, my voice brittle. “Did Ryan tell you to come back?”

Lucas hesitated for a second, then gave a slight nod. But the confirmation didn’t stir anything in me. I was too drained to care.

I pulled out my phone, only to find one lone message from Chloe.

It was a photo she had secretly taken. (Ryan blowing on a bowl of noodles for her, a soft smile on his face)

He was always so distant and cold with me, but in that photo, he looked gentle—patient in a way I had rarely seen. Letting his assistant come back to take care of his wife, he went to personally take care of his ex-girlfriend.

I let out a bitter laugh, shutting off my phone without replying. Turning to Lucas, I said flatly, “I’m fine now. You can go.”

He raised a brow. “Are you sure?”

His diligence puzzled me. Even though Ryan had sent him, there was no need to be so dutiful. It felt like he was going above and beyond.

“Thank you,” I added quietly. “You’ve helped me three times now.”

He chuckled. “Three? I only count two.”

“You kept what happened in the hospital from Ryan.”

He suddenly smiled, “Just because he’s my boss doesn’t mean I’ll betray someone’s privacy.”

That was his way of saying I didn’t owe him anything.

“I don’t think Ryan will come back tonight,” Lucas said gently. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

I gave a small nod of acknowledgment, ‘hmm,’ before retreating into my room.

The next morning, Lucas was still waiting downstairs. When I insisted he go home and rest, he offhandedly said, “Mr. Caldwell said you should have dinner at his parent's house today.”

***

This home was Ryan's parents' home. Lucas sent me to the door.

My stomach churned at the thought. Ryan’s parents didn’t exactly welcome me. For the past five years, they’d grown increasingly impatient over my inability to conceive, their disappointment becoming more obvious with every family gathering.

I stood at the door, doing a lot of mental construction.

Ryan’s parents had never approved of me. From the beginning, they wanted Chloe to marry their son. After all, Chloe and Ryan had grown up together like childhood sweethearts. But when Chloe went abroad right after high school and stayed there for seven years, Ryan hadn’t waited for her—he’d married me instead.

At the time, I thought I would win and find happiness. But now, with Chloe back in the picture, I realize how naive I had been. Perhaps I had always just been her replacement.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

The cheerful conversation inside stopped abruptly, leaving the air heavy with awkwardness.

Ryan’s younger sister, Lily Caldwell, was the first to react. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, well. The busy woman finally shows up.”

Sitting beside her, Chloe gave her a light nudge, feigning concern. “Lily, don’t say that.”

Ryan’s gaze softened when it landed on Chloe, but his brows furrowed at his sister’s words. “Lily, enough!”

Lily rolled her eyes dramatically, grabbing Chloe by the arm as they headed to her room.

They had been inseparable since childhood and Lily had always seen Chloe as her rightful sister-in-law. She’d never liked me and made no effort to hide it.

I acted as if nothing had happened, stepping inside without greeting anyone. Ryan’s parents were seated in the living room and the moment his mother saw me, her expression darkened.

His mother was unhappy and with a cold brow, she wanted to scold me.

I could already see the reprimand forming on her lips, but Ryan intervened, guiding me gently to sit down. He glanced at my pale face and tried to smooth things over.

“Mom, Emma hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

His mother let out a dismissive huff. “No wonder she can’t have children—sick all the time, just a burden.”

The words were sharp, meant to cut deep. I met her gaze steadily and said, “That’s why I’ve decided to divorce Ryan.”

The room fell silent.