How ironic.

This man once loved me as if I were his life.

Eight years ago, he first saw me at the old Chase family estate.

Back then, I was nothing more than Old Master Gu’s caregiver, so insignificant that I was not even worth remembering by name.

Yet he fell in love with me at first sight.

One hundred confessions.

Not once or twice, but a hundred times.

I once lingered a little too long over the bellflowers in the garden. The next morning, every rose in the yard had been uprooted overnight and replaced with the color I liked.

When I twisted my ankle, he booked an entire hospital floor and stayed by my side for three days and three nights.

It was also then that I learned there had always been someone pursuing him.

Emma, a childhood sweetheart and the daughter of the richest family, had chased him for years, loving him loudly and fiercely.

But there had never been anyone else in his eyes.

“Joyce, I only love you.”

“So what if she’s a perfect match? All I feel for Emma is disgust.”

To force him to let go, the Chase family took back his shares and even used their connections to send him to a remote island overseas.

Twenty whole days.

He starved himself until the family compromised, and in doing so, shattered every last line of my defenses.

I believed him.

So I married him.

After the wedding, he did keep his promise, doting on me so openly that everyone knew.

For a while, I truly thought my life would stay like this.

Until half a year ago.

Emma, who had been gone for years, suddenly returned to the country.

And Chase’s attitude toward her changed.

He canceled international conferences and went to the airport himself to pick her up.

To host her welcome banquet, he stayed away from home for three full days.

I swallowed my grievance and asked him about it. For the first time, he told me the truth.

“A year ago, I was in a car accident in the UK.”

“Shiyu saved me. She was in a coma for an entire year.”

He said it so calmly, yet every word stabbed into my heart.

“Joyce, I only love you.”

“But she just woke up. I have to repay this life debt.”

“One year. Just one year, alright?”

At first, I believed him.

I thought love could wait.

Until the night of that banquet.

My old illness relapsed, and I was rushed into emergency treatment.

But Chase’s phone was unreachable, no matter how many times I called.

Left with no choice, my mother went to the luxury yacht where the banquet was being held.

She never came back.

Everyone said it was an accident.

They said she lost control of her emotions and jumped into the sea.

Even Chase, who was not at the scene when it happened, chose to believe that.

But I knew better.

That night, after I was pushed out of the emergency room, I clearly received a phone call.

The other end was chaotic and piercing.

I heard Emma’s sharp scolding, and I heard my mother’s agonized screams.

She did not kill herself.

She was forced into the sea.

For the past six months, I lived in guilt and collapse.

Crying until my voice was gone, hurting until I was numb.

Until I pried a trace of the truth from a waiter.

I begged Chase countless times to help me.

But at that criminal private prosecution hearing, he stood on the opposite side without hesitation.

He protected the person who killed my mother.

To force me to submit, he even threatened me with my mother’s ashes.

At that moment, I looked at him and felt as if this man were a stranger who had crawled out of hell.

I was desperate.

And I gave in.

My fingers trembling, I signed my crooked name on that letter of apology.

“Are you satisfied now?”

“Then let them come back from the sea…”

The words had barely fallen when a sharp cry suddenly rang out behind me.

Emma suddenly clutched her head and collapsed over the defendant’s bench.

“Chase, help me… my head hurts again.”

The next second, Chase panicked. He threw down his tablet and rushed over.

On the livestream, the countdown had already ended.

Without receiving his command to stop, several bodyguards opened the urn.

“No!”

I screamed like a madwoman.

“Chase, tell them to stop. Now!”

But they would not listen to me.

I tried to chase after him, to grab hold of him.

Yet his eyes and heart held only Emma. As he carried her out, his elbow slammed hard into me.

I fell to the ground. My forehead struck the corner of the table.

Tears fell, one by one, onto the cold screen.

Too late.

It was already too late.

On camera, the ashes were poured down from the ship.

Against the biting sea wind, they scattered, little by little, vanishing into the surging waves.

In that instant, my heart felt as if it were torn apart alive.

My mother had always been afraid of the cold.

She hated the freezing sea more than anything.

And now, not only had she died there, she would be trapped there forever.

“Mom, I’m sorry…”

I cried until I broke down completely.

At that moment, regret consumed me.

I regretted falling in love with Chase.

I regretted marrying him.

I drafted the divorce agreement. It would take effect soon.

Just after finishing it, my phone vibrated. A text from the hospital reminded me that I had an upcoming prenatal checkup.

This would most likely be my last one.

When I stepped outside, I saw the doorway piled high with packages.

Large and small, stacked neatly.

I glanced at them casually.

Cement, steel bars, timber.

At a glance, it was obvious they were materials for building an underground bunker for the so called apocalypse.

I suddenly felt like laughing.

He moved fast.

So fast that it made me suspect he had long been eager to build this so called love nest with Joyce.

I did not even dare imagine what a Peking University astronomy professor would look like, sleeves rolled up, hauling bricks and laying stones.

But not long after, I actually saw it.

Joyce posted another update, without the slightest restraint.

“Little bunker. Our home after finding our way back to each other.”

In the video, Chase looked nothing like the meticulous man I remembered, the one who would press every crease out of his shirts.

His face was smeared with dirt, his hair a mess, squatting inside a pit and digging.

As he dug, he spoke to her gently.

“Joyce, don’t be afraid.”

“When the world really ends in one month later, we won’t die either.”

In that moment, I finally understood what blinding pain meant.

Beside him, Felix struggled to pass him bricks.

Father and son, one squatting, one bent over, the scene absurd and ridiculous.

I watched and watched, and somehow started laughing.

But as I laughed, my face slowly grew wet.

So he really was willing.

For Joyce, he would give everything.

Even at the end of the world, he would still give her a home.

And I had nothing.

When I filled out the divorce agreement, it was not that I had never thought about it.

About taking every last bit of the modest income in the accounts and leaving him with nothing.

But after calming down, it felt unnecessary.

Aside from the title of Peking University astronomy professor, all Chase really had left was his self righteous pride and foul temper.

If I truly left him with nothing, he probably would not even be able to raise our son.

The car was provided by the university.

The furniture was secondhand.

The house was rented.

Back when our relationship was at its best, it was not that I had never suggested buying a home.

I had even planned it seriously.

Little by little, personally building a place that belonged to the three of us.

“I can pay in full.”

“The deed can have only your name on it.”

But he always thought I was joking.

He would even lecture me in that utterly natural tone of his.

“Don’t let yourself be tied down by worldly things.”

“A house is just a place to sleep. There’s no need to obsess over it.”

He never understood.

Money had never been a problem for me.

Across the capital’s elite circles, the properties my grandfather had arranged for me were so many that even I could not remember them all.

What I wanted was never a house.

What I wanted was a small home that had something to do with him.

Until I gave birth to our son, I had brought up buying a house again, but he still wouldn't budge.

So, like Wang Baochuan, I followed him, moving once again, from the southern part of the city to the city center, over and over.

With each move, I lost more than I kept.

In the end, all that remained was my willingness to give to them.

But I never expected that, in the end, they wouldn’t even want that.

I purposely bought a box of donuts, intending to give them to the nurses and doctors who had taken care of me all these years.

“Miss Emma, you’re so thoughtful,” the nurse said, taking the snack, her tone gentle. “Thank you.”

I forced a smile, one that lacked any warmth. “You’re welcome.”

Just as I was about to turn to find a seat in the waiting room, my steps suddenly faltered, and my breath was abruptly cut off.

There they were.

Chase, and Joyce.

They walked out of the gynecology clinic together, their movements natural, their intimacy undeniable. Chase’s hand rested gently on her small belly, with a tenderness and adoration I knew all too well. In that instant, my gaze seemed to be nailed in place, unable to look away.

Joyce was holding a pregnancy guidebook, its clean cover clearly displaying her name.

My mind went blank.

Countless thoughts exploded in my head, but I couldn’t find a single one that made sense.

“Is... is this their child?”

“How did it come to this?”

It was absurd and ironic.

Chase—he was the one who had personally introduced me to this gynecologist.

And now, here he was, openly bringing his mistress into the clinic, as if he was certain I would never run into them.

“So… even the doctor knows?”

As that thought crossed my mind, a sharp pain suddenly twisted in my chest, as if countless knives had simultaneously plunged into my heart, making it hard to breathe.

What about his family?

Had they known all along?

Joyce seemed to sense my gaze and finally looked at me.

But she didn’t even flinch. Instead, she curled her lips into a smile, one that was completely unguarded.

Chase suddenly stopped walking, glanced at me, and his tone became casual, though there was a subtle hint of wariness.

“What are you doing here at the hospital?”

I instinctively tightened my grip on my bag, my fingertips turning pale, but I still lifted my head and smiled at him, a smile so faint it barely held.

“Routine checkup.”

I said it casually, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. After all, I was about to divorce him anyway.

“I’ve been feeling a little unwell, so the doctor asked me to come in.”

He furrowed his brow slightly, his gaze lingering on my face for a couple of seconds, as if searching for some sign of weakness.

But I lowered my eyelashes, avoiding his gaze, breathing lightly.

“No big deal, right?”

His question was dismissive, clearly no longer interested in probing further.

“Mm, it’s fine.”

I nodded, my voice steady. “I’ll leave once the checkup’s done.”

He simply muttered an “oh,” then turned to answer a call, his tone quickly shifting to a warm and patient one.

I stood there, watching his back, while my other hand, without my control, subconsciously fell onto my lower abdomen.

He followed my gaze, then seemed to finally realize who I was looking at, his tone so naturally casual, it felt almost like an explanation.

“She just came back to the country.”

“She doesn’t have any friends here, and her family isn’t around, so I’m the one accompanying her.”

He explained it with ease and thoughtfulness, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I nodded, not exposing the truth, nor asking further.

It was clear now—he didn’t even think I deserved an explanation.