A pause fell between them.

“You know I can’t,” he said coolly. “My family will only hand over the company if I stay with her. It’s written in my father’s will.”

He sighed, almost impatient. “You know my situation. Reba is the one who changed me into who I am today. That’s why my parents insisted I marry her.”

My breath stopped. I covered my mouth, disbelief crashing over me.

So that was it.

All those years, every vow and carefully crafted affection was only a payment for inheritance. For wealth that only came as long as he stayed married to me.

It was too cruel.

Too cruel, Sheldon Carter!

And as if that truth hadn’t already torn me apart, he reached out and brushed Stacey’s cheek, coaxing, “Hey, I barely touch her anymore. Isn’t that proof of how much you mean to me?”

“…Fine.”

But Stacey wasn’t satisfied. She wanted more than affection.

She wanted the title—Mrs., not mistress.

Tears streamed down her face.

Since Lizzie’s birth, my intimacy with Sheldon had faded into almost nothing.

I once believed he was protecting my fragile body after childbirth.

Now I understood.

He had already satisfied his lust elsewhere—and no longer needed to pretend with me.

I left, coming back to the auction hall.

Just as I entered, my phone vibrated. Another message from Stacey.

A photo appeared—the two of them naked in the bathroom. Then the words followed. [Guess what your husband just did? It’s only a pendant. Take it if you want. His heart and everything else belongs to me now.]

I didn’t block Stacey. Not yet.

Stacey still had a role to play.

Not long after, Sheldon handed me the pendant. “I’ve paid for it, I hope you’ll treasure it.”

“I brought it also.” He gave milk for Lizzie and Diego.

“Thanks, Dad,” both of them thanked him as if they were siblings.

Sheldon was a little surprised, but seeing that I didn't react, only focused on my treasure, he didn't confirm anything and simply stroked the two children's heads.

After all, it was true that Diego was his son. There was nothing more I needed to compromise on.

I brushed the pendant.

Once, I believed this marriage would last ever after. But now I knew, not all men were devoted to one woman for life, most were like Sheldon.

Perhaps my heart had finally exceeded its limit.

The moment we returned to the Manor, I collapsed with a raging fever.

Heat scorched my skin through the night.

Sheldon panicked, scooped me into his arms, and rushed me to the hospital.

When I woke, a nurse stood by my bed, handing me a cup of water.

She said with relief, “Finally you’re awake. You’ve burned with fever for three days and nights. Mr. Sheldon and your daughter never left your side.”

I sighed softly.

“I don’t know what weighs on your heart. If I had a husband and child guarding me like this, I would be glowing with joy.”

After urging me to let go of my worries, she quietly left.

Not long after, Stacey entered.

She smiled gently and placed a hand on her abdomen. "I've just checked my pregnancy, and the doctor said it's twins. Perhaps I can finally grant Sheldon's wish as soon as possible."

"Imagine how happy Sheldon would be to be surrounded by the many children he desires, and that will only happen if he's with me."

"So, be considerate, Reba."

I reached for my bag and pulled out the divorce papers, handing them to her.

“Then make him sign this,” I said calmly. “I will be glad if you submit it to the court too for me. If you succeed, your wish will come true.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

I nodded.

At least this way, everything would finally be simple.

Just as Stacey reached for the papers, I pulled them back.

“One more condition,” I said quietly. “My birthday is tomorrow, and I know you must be aware of what Sheldon has prepared for me that night.”

“If you can lure him away from me tomorrow night, I’ll leave from your sight forever.”

Stacey blinked. “Are you serious? You won’t tell Sheldon?”

“I don’t lie,” I replied. And I meant it.

This wouldn’t be a simple divorce. It would be my disappearance from his world—forever.

“…Okay.”

Not long after, Sheldon and Lizzie returned from their meal.

“What are you doing here?” Sheldon asked.

"Oh, I'm doing a health check-up here, then..." Stacey smiled calmly. “I heard Reba was awake after her health check, so I came to visit.”

She added softly, “I also need your signature as a sponsor to claim insurance.”

Sheldon saw the pregnancy book in Stacey’s hand and panicked at once, signing without hesitation before turning to me. “Are you feeling better?”

Stacey smiled, satisfied, and left straight for the court.

I hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

After Stacey was gone, the room grew quiet.

Sheldon reached out to brush a loose strand of hair from my forehead, I lifted my hand and lightly touched his wrist.

Just barely, but enough.

“I’m sweaty,” I murmured, eyes lowered. “I feel unpleasant.”

He froze, startled—then softened.

He gathered my cool hands in his.

“How could you ever be unpleasant?” he said gently. “You always carry the scent I love. I could never grow tired of you.”

He kissed my hand.

Lizzie squealed, covering her eyes. “Ewww, so mushy!”

Then I wriggled closer, wrapping my arms around me. “Then I’ll keep Mommy warm too!”

Beyond the glass wall, people passing by slowed their steps.

They saw a flawless picture. A gentleman husband, a lovely wife, and a bright, laughing child.

Eyes filled with envy.

No one knew this perfect family was already breaking apart.

But the illusion shattered the moment Sheldon’s phone chimed.

He glanced at it.

I caught the contact name before the screen dimmed, “My Darling.”

A sharp silence fell between us.

Sheldon stood at once, smoothing his face into practiced calm.

“Urgent meeting,” he said evenly. “I’ll bring back your favorite pastries.”

He ruffled Lizzie’s hair. “Be a strong girl. Protect Mommy.”

“I want to go with Daddy!” Lizzie whined, reaching for him.

Sheldon hesitated, torn for a brief second. “Maybe I should bring her…”

“Go,” I cut in, my voice calm, almost gentle. “Take her. It’ll be easier for me.”

He blinked, surprised, but didn’t argue. He lifted Lizzie into his arms and left.

He didn’t return until nightfall. No pastries. No gifts.

Only voice call—from Stacey. [I’ve submitted everything to the court and will ask them out tomorrow night. You’ll do as promised, right?]

A photo followed, the four of them at dinner, smiling beside a pregnancy test.

Then a video. Lizzie laughed brightly at the camera. “Diego and I will have other siblings, I love my second mommy the most!”

The clip ended.

My hands didn’t shake.

I felt nothing.

The next day, I packed my things and took a taxi to Sheldon’s parents’ home.

I remembered the first time I met them—how anxious they were, how tightly Sheldon’s mother clutched her husband’s hand.

Sheldon’s condition had terrified them. His depression, his fear of people, and his trembling before every meeting.

Back then, his father had sighed heavily.

“If this continues,” he said bitterly, “I’ll have no choice but to hand the company to my nephew.”

He was helpless.

But under my treatment, Sheldon slowly recovered. His parents looked at me as if I were a miracle.

His mother had gripped my hands, eyes reddened. “Thank you.”

His father said hoarsely. “You didn’t just heal my son. You saved my family.”

From then on, they treated me like their own daughter.

They often joked about Sheldon and me.

“She listens, he calms down,” his father laughed once. “Perfect compatibility.”

His mother nodded eagerly. “If you don’t marry her, you’ll never find anyone better.”

When they found out Sheldon proposed to me, they were overjoyed.

His father even drank more than he should have at the celebration, smiling like a relieved man who had finally escaped his worst fear.

Sadly, he died two years ago in a plane crash while on a business trip.

But at least I owe her mother a farewell.

However, when I arrived, my steps faltered. Sheldon’s car was parked outside.

Through the window, I saw Stacey in the living room.

Laughter spilled out—excited, intimate, unmistakably warm.

I stood there, listening.

And understood, I was already the only one missing from their family.

“Mommy, relax,” a woman’s voice chimed brightly. “I’ll give the Carter bloodline many kids within three years. I won’t let this lineage end with me.”

His mother laughed, delighted. “Good girl. That’s all these old people will for. I long to see this house lively again.”

Then her tone softened with pity.

“As for Reba, she’s kind-hearted, but damaging her core while birthing Lizzie was such a tragedy. Thankfully, we still have you. If you carry this child to term, you’ll be the Carter family’s savior.”

The gift bag in my hands suddenly burned.

Inside were the farewell presents I had chosen with care.

Now, all of it felt pointless.

Quietly, I handed the gifts to the housekeeper nearby, swallowing the ache rising in my throat.

I still remembered the night after my wedding ceremony, Sheldon’s mother had clasped my hands tightly. “If Sheldon ever strays, come to me. I’ll tear his ears off myself.”

“No matter what happens, you’ll always be the daughter in law I acknowledge.”

Yet today, I heard her welcoming another woman with genuine warmth.

Sheldon was their blood. I was, at best, a girl who came into their family, an outsider.

I left, took a taxi, and headed straight for the airport.

As the plane prepared for take-off, my phone chimed.

A message from Sheldon. [Don’t forget tonight’s agenda. We’ll celebrate your birthday and our anniversary.]

A link followed. The venue and the time.

Sheldon’s secretary once told me the product would be launched tonight and the brand ambassador was Stacey.

I remembered the first time I saw something strange with Sheldon on our fourth anniversary.

“What happened to your neck?” I asked casually, pointing at the crimson marks along his skin. “Looks like something bit you.”

He stiffened.

The marks still carried the red of a recent heat—clearly left by another woman’s lips.

Sheldon cleared his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Probably night-sting insects,” he said weakly. “You don’t think I’d stray, do you? You know you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“Is that so?” I replied.

It was a deep winter. Even insects were buried beneath frozen snow.

I didn’t wait for his excuses. I brushed past him and entered the washroom.

He stood there, frozen, his face drained of color.

Moments later, perhaps driven by guilt, he followed me and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.

The mirror reflected us clearly—my distance, his conflict.

He sighed softly. “Can you believe it? Four years of marriage. It feels like a blink. And there are so many seasons ahead of us.”

In my mind, a quiet answer surfaced. ‘Too bad there won’t be another year for us.’

Almost at once, Stacey’s phone call came through. “Hello, Reba. Are you leaving already?”

I steadied my breathing before answering, “Don’t worry, you will get what you want.”

She smiled. “Good, since tonight will be remarkable for us.”

After hanging up the call, I called the organization handling my staged death.

“Sheldon will go to the event tonight with Stacey,” I said calmly. “Prepare the stage near her apartment.”

I paused, voice steady as ice. “Make it convincing.”

The call ended.

I removed the SIM card, snapped it in half, and discarded it.

As airplane mode on, I whispered to myself, “From today on, there will be no Reba Barrett anymore.”

“It’s already evening. We should go,” Sheldon stood up first.

If his secretary hadn’t reminded him of his schedule, he might have forgotten what day it was entirely.

Stacey glanced at him from the corner of her eye, calculating, pleased. She was thinking about how to keep him focus on her tonight—just as she had promised yesterday in the hospital.

Sheldon’s mother smiled warmly. “I hope Lizzie and Diego can visit Grandma again soon. I love having a house full of children.”

“Sure, Mom,” Stacey replied sweetly. “I’ll bring them over sometimes.”

Sheldon’s mother reached for Stacey’s hand, her voice gentle. “I’m so happy to have you and Diego in our family. Take good care of yourself during the pregnancy. Ask me anything if you need advice.”

“I will, Mom,” Stacey answered softly.

On the way back to Stacey’s apartment, Lizzie and Diego fell asleep from exhaustion, heads tilted toward each other.

The car grew quiet.

That was when Stacey spoke.

“Honey,” she said lightly, eyes fixed on the road ahead, “you’ll do to me what you did to Reba someday too, right?”

Sheldon chuckled. His hand slid onto her thigh—deliberately exposed, deliberately inviting.

“Are you jealous?” he asked lazily. “After everything I’ve done for you?”

Stacey pouted. “She has her name on your brand. But me?” She sighed. “I’m just your brand ambassador. Nothing more.”

He squeezed her thigh. “Then how about this,” he said casually. “For your next birthday, I’ll buy you a building. Name it after you.”

She turned to him, eyes lighting up. “You promise?”

He nodded.

“Then seal it,” Stacey said, leaning closer.

Sheldon kissed her without hesitation.

They finally reached the apartment lobby.

Sheldon loosened her seatbelt. “Come upstairs and prepare for tonight’s event. I should go home and—”

Stacey already knew what he was about to say.

She pressed a hand to her forehead and swayed slightly. “Honey… I feel dizzy.” Her voice softened. “These pregnancy hormones—I don’t think I can manage alone tonight.”

She leaned into him, fragile and dependent. “Will you stay with me today?”

Worry flickered across Sheldon’s face. In the end, he gave in.

He sent me a message, brief and careless—telling me to attend the event alone. The driver would pick me up.

Lizzie didn’t come home either. She stayed at Stacey’s apartment, sleeping beside Diego.

Tonight’s event was massive. Reporters swarmed for the launch of Carter Group’s newest product. Every detail had to be flawless—especially Stacey, the brand ambassador.

All preparations were done at Stacey’s apartment.

Stylists came and went. Makeup artists hovered. Dresses, jewelry, shoes—each chosen with Sheldon’s personal approval. He spared no expense, indulging her every preference.

By the time everything was ready, night had already fallen.

They left together.

Sheldon felt a trace of exhaustion, but the driver had been sent for me. So he drove alone.

Stacey’s preparations had taken far longer than planned. She kept asking for breaks, blaming discomfort, blaming hormones. In the end, they departed only minutes before the event was set to begin.

His phone rang again—his secretary, urgency sharp in her voice.

Not wanting to make a poor impression before partners and the public, Sheldon pressed harder on the accelerator.

The car sped through the night.

But trouble followed them into the car.

Lizzie and Diego began fighting over a toy. Their voices rose, sharp and relentless.

Stacey couldn’t stay quiet either. She complained nonstop, pressing a hand to her stomach, muttering about how unbearable the twins were—even before they were born.

The noise filled the car, heavy and chaotic.

It distracted Sheldon as he drove.

For a fleeting moment, he thought of me.

If it were Reba, this wouldn’t have happened.

I always prepared Lizzie carefully for events like this. For a four-year-old, a long night event meant exhaustion and tears. So I made sure she slept during the day.

Before leaving, I fed her her favorite meal and snacks. A full stomach kept her calm, kept her smiling.

I never gave Lizzie overstimulating toys. No loud sounds. No flashing lights.

I chose activity books and educational tablets—things that helped her emotions, her coordination.

That was why Sheldon once wanted many children with me. Because I knew how to care.

But fate was cruel. I could only give him Lizzie—for my entire life.

Then another thought crossed his mind.

‘That’s fine,’ he reassured himself. ‘When Stacey’s child is born, Reba will help take care of them. She loves children. She definitely will.’

Too bad, Sheldon.

By the time that thought formed, I had already left you and Lizzie behind.

His drifting mind was dragged back by the noise. Lizzie and Diego were still arguing. Stacey clutched her head, complaining about the screaming, her voice sharp, impatient.

Instead of calming the children, she joined the tantrum, her tone no calmer than theirs.

Finally, Sheldon snapped.

“Shut up, both of you!” he shouted, turning around to glare at the backseat.

He kept lecturing them, his attention fixed behind him until Stacey screamed, “Sheldon, brake!”

Too late.

The car ahead was too close to them.

Bang!