Ten days after giving birth, I caught Clifford Sanchez cheating again.

When I cornered them at the hotel, my whole body was shaking.

Clifford ruffled my hair, amused.

"There, there. What made you rush over here all of a sudden?"

"The girl's young and doesn't know better. She just sent you a few intimate photos, and it's got you this worked up."

I clenched my teeth and slapped him hard across the face.

"Clifford, have you no shame at all?"

Janet Sullivan peeked out playfully from behind him, grinning as she coaxed me.

"Come on, now that you've finished the whole catching-them-in-the-act routine, why don't you hurry back and lie down?"

"No matter how much of a scene you make, the two of you aren't going to divorce anyway. Why bother getting so angry?"

"Oh, by the way, we used protection, so Mr. Sanchez is still perfectly clean!"

Clifford, the bright red handprint blazing on his cheek, chuckled softly and pinched Janet's waist.

"Aren't you the sweet talker."

In an instant, the blood in my veins ran cold.

Ten years I'd been with Clifford. He said he had an intimacy disorder, that he couldn't believe I truly loved him.

So he cheated, over and over, testing whether I would ever leave his side.

Countless times I chose to forgive him, confessing my feelings again and again, trying to make him understand what was in my heart.

But now, enduring the pain of the incision on my belly, I suddenly felt so tired.

This game that would never end in me leaving.

I didn't want to keep playing it with Clifford anymore.

——

Janet laughed until she trembled all over, burrowing again and again into Clifford's arms, scolding him in a sweet, coquettish voice for being so bad.

I bit down on my lower lip, my eyes stinging.

Clifford scooped Janet up in his arms, noticed me standing off to the side, and curled his lips with amusement.

"Wife, still not leaving?"

"Planning to be my and Janet's audience?"

Janet's earlobes flushed crimson at once, and she buried her face bashfully against Clifford's chest.

"Mr. Sanchez, please send your wife back! With her here, I can't let myself go."

Clifford let out a soft, doting laugh.

Several bodyguards in suits suddenly filed into the suite, their expressions deferential, not daring to breathe too loud.

"Mr. Sanchez, we failed in our duty. We didn't keep proper watch over Mrs. Sanchez."

They were about to step forward and drag me out by force when I suddenly fixed my eyes on Clifford's, my voice very quiet.

"Clifford, you only dare do this because you know I love you."

"This cheating game you love to play. From now on, I won't be joining you in it."

With that, I pushed the bodyguards aside and walked out, gritting my teeth against the pain.

By the time I got back to the postpartum recovery center, my clothes were soaked through with cold sweat.

The postpartum nurse hurried to change me into a dry dress, then thoughtfully brought over a nourishing meal.

But I had no appetite at all.

This recovery center was one Clifford had chosen with great care.

Throughout the entire pregnancy, he never missed a single one of my checkups. He not only taught himself everything about expectant mothers, but also arranged the best postpartum nurse in Kingsport for me in advance.

When my legs and feet swelled, Clifford would gently massage them.

When the morning sickness was bad, he'd hold me, his eyes rimmed red.

"Wife, being pregnant is so hard on you."

"I promise I'll make you and the baby the happiest people in the world."

I thought Clifford had finally found some security, that he would stop using cheating to test my love.

I never imagined he hadn't changed at all.

My phone buzzed. Janet had sent two photos.

The first was of used contraceptives tossed carelessly into a trash can.

The second showed Janet nestled in Clifford's arms, holding an opened box of birth control pills.

【My dear, we took every precaution perfectly, so there's no risk at all!】

【Don't worry, Mr. Sanchez only has you in his heart. With us, it's just for fun!】

Sick to my stomach, I flung the phone aside.

Mom sat down on the edge of my bed with the baby in her arms, her eyes full of aching tenderness.

"Hailey, sweetheart, don't keep things bottled up inside. Talk to me about it. You'll feel better."

My throat tightened.

For all these years, Mom had watched me tangled up with Clifford.

She never said a word about it, but I knew how much it hurt her to see me like that.

I reached over and held her hand gently.

"Mom, I don't want to stay in Kingsport anymore."

"Once I'm through my postpartum recovery, let's go to Southaven together. Let's leave this place."

A flicker of relief and joy sparked in her eyes, and she nodded hard.

Then a familiar voice came from the doorway.

"Leave? Sweetheart, where are you planning to go?"

Clifford strode straight over to us.

Mom didn't bother hiding her displeasure. She let out a sharp huff and carried the baby out of the room.

Clifford didn't care in the slightest. He sat down and gently stroked my hair.

"Sweetheart, are you really angry with me today?"

"You know how it is. I'm just so insecure. I have to push you away, over and over, before I can be sure you really love me."

The corner of my mouth twitched.

"Clifford, aren't you tired of that excuse yet?"

"Being angry doesn't mean anything to me anymore."

Ten years. Clifford had cheated on me more times than I could count, with all kinds of women lying in his arms.

I cried, I fought, I kept repeating how much I cared, how I would never leave him no matter what happened.

I'd believed that ten years of steady, unwavering devotion could move him.

Now I could see it clearly. All I'd ever moved was myself.

My tone was flat and hard. Clifford blinked, caught off guard, then held out a document.

"Sweetheart, whether you believe me or not, the ones I love most are still you and the baby."

"This is how sincere I am."

He'd drawn up a gift settlement contract, voluntarily handing over every asset in his name to me and our ten-day-old child.

A wave of exhaustion washed over me.

Every time he cheated, Clifford would apologize in that low, groveling voice, coaxing me back this same way.

As if every crack in a relationship could simply be smoothed over with money.

The postpartum nurse stepped forward and politely reminded Clifford that I needed to rest.

He got to his feet, reluctant to go.

"Sweetheart, I'll come see you again tomorrow after work."

That night, I booked Mom's plane ticket and wired her a large sum of money, so she could go ahead to Southaven and get settled in first.

Then I found a lawyer to draft the divorce settlement papers.

The next evening, Janet walked into the postpartum recovery center together with Clifford.

Clifford's hands were full of designer gift bags.

Janet carried a bouquet of flowers in her arms, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey, Clifford's wife, Mr. Sanchez spent the whole afternoon shopping with me. Every little thing, out came the credit card."

"So to thank him, I came along to visit you. Aren't you happy to see me?"

Clifford laughed at her playful teasing and casually peeled off an orange segment, popping it into her mouth.

"That's enough. Watch your mouth in front of my wife."

I spoke coldly.

"Did you come here just to show off?"

Janet thrust the flowers toward my face, wearing a pitiful expression.

"You've got me all wrong. I only wanted to come see you and the baby."

"I picked this bouquet out myself. I hope you like it."

A thick, heavy floral scent rolled toward me, tangled with the smell of green leaves.

The next instant I sneezed hard, my eyes swelling red almost at once, hives breaking out all over my skin.

Only then did I see clearly that the bouquet was almost entirely lilies.

I shoved Janet away hard without thinking.

"Get away from me!"

Janet, caught unprepared, dropped to the floor, and the rims of her eyes reddened in an instant.

Clifford helped Janet up with aching tenderness, his expression darkening.

"Hailey, what do you think you're doing? Bullying my Janet on purpose, right in front of me?"

I couldn't stop sneezing, tears streaming down my face, barely able to get out a full sentence.

The postpartum nurse rushed over, frantic.

"Mrs. Sanchez, let me get your allergy medicine right away!"

She shot Clifford a reproachful look and quickly threw the flowers out.

Clifford blinked, only then remembering that I was severely allergic to lilies.

He'd just started toward me when Janet burst into tears and ran for the door.

"This is all my fault. Since I'm not welcome here, I'll go!"

He hesitated, but in the end he still went after her.

"Sweetheart, she's young and headstrong, I can't just leave her be. I'll come see you once I've calmed her down."

I stared at his back and shook my head with a bitter smile.

Clifford, I don't need your concern anymore.

Once the medicine kicked in, my symptoms eased a lot.

Janet sent me a photo of Clifford buried against her collarbone, her tone taunting.

【Hehe, so what if I made you break out on purpose? Mr. Sanchez couldn't even bring himself to scold me once.】

Calmly, I pressed the phone dark and didn't respond.

In the past, whenever I caught Clifford cheating, he'd cut it off clean with the other woman immediately.

But this time, the patience and tenderness he showed his little secretary Janet had crossed every line he'd ever kept before.

I gathered up my daughter, soft as a lump of dough, my voice very quiet.

"Baby, from now on, we don't want him anymore."

After that, I refused to see Clifford when he came to visit, and wouldn't even pick up his video calls.

Under the nurse's care, my body recovered quickly.

The day I went home, Clifford canceled an international meeting and came to pick me up himself.

Janet wasn't with him.

Clifford smiled and pinched my cheek.

"Sweetheart, your temper's really grown. You actually gave me the silent treatment for over twenty days."

"Last time really was my fault. From now on I'll be more attentive, put you first."

"Don't freeze me out anymore, okay? When I can't see you and our daughter, I can't even sleep."

Our daughter watched Clifford, waving her little hands with delight.

Clifford's gaze went even softer.

But I carried our daughter past him and got straight into the car.

The whole way, I stared quietly out the window and didn't say a word more to him.

When we got home, I walked into the living room. Gail Lambert, the housekeeper, had just come forward to greet me when Janet's simpering voice rang out.

"Sis, welcome home to you and the baby!"

She was wearing a camisole and shorts, sitting on the sofa binge-watching a show and snacking.

Everything about the way she settled in, easy and practiced, as though she were the lady of this house.

She giggled and picked up a piece of fruit.

"Sis, no need to look around. I've been living here this whole time, keeping Mr. Sanchez company."

"He's a full-blooded man, after all. How could he go night after night with no one to warm the bed?"

"But don't worry, I wore Mr. Sanchez out all by myself. He hasn't had time to go looking for anyone else."

"Sis, shouldn't you be thanking me?"

I turned around and looked steadily at Clifford.

"So this is what you meant by not being able to sleep without me and our daughter?"

Clifford's eyes landed on Janet, and he curved his lips with a helpless little smile.

"The girl's so clingy, I couldn't chase her off no matter what, so I just let her stay."

"Honestly, she really is quite endearing."

My chest seized all at once, and in silence I carried our daughter into the nursery.

The moment I stepped in, I froze where I stood.

In the corner of the room sat a brand-new piano, and beside it stood the photo Clifford and I had taken abroad ten years ago.

Younger, softer, I stood in front of the camera holding Clifford Sanchez's hand tight, my eyes crinkling with a smile.

Then a warm embrace closed around me from behind, and Clifford lazily tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"I knew you'd love it."

"From now on, you can play the piano for our daughter in this room, all right? Maybe we'll raise a musical genius."

In an instant, my mind was dragged back into the past.

Ten years ago, I met Clifford for the first time in France.

It had been pouring rain that day. I'd just failed an exam and gotten word that my father had died back home, and while I was still reeling, someone snatched my backpack right off me.

I couldn't catch the stranger who'd stolen it. In my panic I forgot every word of French I knew, and I broke down sobbing alone in the downpour.