"Nothing, just my colleague’s wife came by to visit him."

"But didn’t you just say you were in a meeting?" Madeline’s voice held a hint of suspicion.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before the voice shifted gears. "The meeting just ended. Madeline, is what you wanted to say really that important?"

Madeline gently placed a hand on her still-flat belly. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her voice bubbled with excitement. "Yes. You’re going to be so happy."

At nine o’clock that evening, Madeline had prepared a spread of Nathaniel’s favorite dishes, eagerly awaiting his return with the news that would change their lives forever.

The door opened, and Nathaniel stepped in, rubbing his tired eyes. As soon as he saw her, Madeline rushed to greet him. "Nathaniel, you’re home!"

He pulled her into a tight embrace, the exhaustion melting from his face as he kissed the top of her head. "I’m home."

Madeline breathed in deeply, noticing the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something unfamiliar—a faint perfume. She frowned, confused. His colleagues were all men. Where did this scent come from?

Before she could dwell on it, Nathaniel took her hand and led her to the dining table. "Why the sudden feast? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, I have great news to share," she said with a glint in her eyes. "But first, go shower. You smell."

She gently pushed him toward the bathroom, her irritation flaring slightly. The scent on him was making her feel uneasy, though she couldn’t quite place why.

"Alright, I’ll be quick," he said, setting down his coat and phone before heading to the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of running water filled the air.

Madeline paced nervously, her heart racing with excitement. Over and over in her mind, she repeated the words she would say to him, her face glowing with joy.

"Ding Dong." The doorbell interrupted her thoughts.

Nathaniel’s phone, left on the table, pinged with a new message. Madeline glanced at it, noticing an unfamiliar number. But when she saw the content, her heart stopped.

"My stomach hurts so much, it seems like I’m about to give birth, Nathan, I’m so scared, can you come and be with me?"

"Nathan, the baby isn’t moving, is something wrong? Can you take me to the hospital?"

Madeline picked up the phone with trembling hands. The lock screen displayed a picture of her sleeping face, and as she stared at it, hot tears blurred her vision. The words on the screen felt like a slap in the face. In the past, friends had joked about Nathaniel being a henpecked husband, but now, seeing the message, his supposed deep affection felt so hollow, so cheap.

Just then, Nathaniel emerged from the bathroom, wiping his damp hair. He walked over, noticing Madeline sitting motionless at the dining table. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, pulling her into a half-hug, his voice soft. "What’s wrong? Are you worried about the results tomorrow?"

Madeline, her eyes unfocused, held his hand and asked absently, "Nathaniel, what would you do if I couldn’t get pregnant?"

Nathaniel gently turned her face to him, pressing his lips to hers. As he kissed her, he whispered against her lips, his voice low and soothing. "Madeline, the IVF process is too hard. I can’t bear to see you suffer like this. If it doesn’t work, we won’t have a baby."

Madeline’s heart shattered, the pain coursing through her as if it were tearing her apart. She fought to keep her composure and asked through the knot in her throat, "Don’t you want children?"

He hesitated, then pulled back slightly, his gaze steady and sincere. "You are the most important person in my life. Without you, nothing else matters."

Madeline let out a bitter laugh, a hollow sound that didn’t reach her eyes. She had never realized how skilled Nathaniel was at lying, at pretending. He could tell her he loved her while building a life with another woman.

She suddenly thought about the countless times he’d worked overtime this year. Was he really working late, or was he spending time with someone else?

His hand, which had been resting on her lower back, began to wander, his warm breath brushing against her neck. His breathing grew heavier

Normally, Madeline would have collapsed into Nathaniel's arms, surrendering to his touch with a quiet surrender. But tonight, she held herself together. She reached out and grasped his hand firmly, her voice level and calm. "Nathaniel, your phone has been ringing."

Nathaniel's response was hoarse, laced with impatience. "Don’t worry about it."

Madeline closed her eyes, the words she wanted to say rising in her throat, but she held back. The phone rang again, its harsh sound slicing through the quiet. Both of them flinched.

Nathaniel’s eyes grew dark, filled with frustration. He reached for the phone, his fingers hovering just as the call disappeared. His brows furrowed tighter. Without a word, he pulled away from her, stepping aside to answer the call. In the silence that followed, Madeline could hear the faint sound of a woman’s sobs through the phone.

Nathaniel muttered an annoyed "Hmm" before abruptly ending the call. He quickly changed into his clothes, barely meeting Madeline's gaze as he spoke. "Madeline, there’s an emergency at the company. I need to go."

Madeline’s breath hitched, and she tightened her grip on her hands, her nails digging into her palms as a wave of humiliation surged through her. Her throat ached with the understanding that he had to leave, but still, she fought to hold on, to make him stay. "Can you not go? You haven’t eaten the meal I made for you."

Nathaniel moved swiftly, gathering his things. He ruffled her hair affectionately, his voice soft but insistent. "Be a good girl, I’ll eat when I come back."

As soon as he left, the emptiness in the house seemed to swallow her whole. Madeline, her hands trembling, grabbed her phone and searched for the unfamiliar number. She added it on Instagram

The woman's name was Zoe Jackson—she was beautiful. Madeline scrolled through her account, noticing the photo updates chronicling her pregnancy journey. And in every photo, there was always a man’s back. Madeline didn’t need to look closely to recognize him. It was Nathaniel.

Every time he had worked late or gone on a business trip, he had been with Zoe.

Madeline's heart clenched. She bit her lip, her eyes fixed on the screen as she tortured herself by scrolling through each new photo.

Then, another update appeared. Madeline clicked on it without thinking, her breath catching in her throat. The photo showed Nathaniel, his head bowed, half-kneeling as he put on Zoe’s shoes. Beside it, a ultrasound photo of a child—already formed, already real.

"The child looks so much like his father. I hope he can love me as much as his father does in the future."

The words echoed in Madeline's mind as she stared at the ultrasound photo, the image of the child becoming sharper and more real with each passing second. It was as if the ground beneath her feet had crumbled, and she was falling into an abyss. Her heart shattered completely. She had tried to hold it together for so long, but now, it all came crashing down. The last wall she had built inside herself was broken beyond repair.

Nathaniel truly had a child. No wonder he had insisted she not have one. No wonder he had discouraged their own attempts at starting a family. And the child—this little life—looked so much like him. Madeline couldn’t even deceive herself anymore. It was clear. He had a child with another woman.

Tears flowed freely as Madeline’s heart splintered into pieces. She set an appointment with the doctor, her hands shaking as she locked the ultrasound report into a box, a container that now held not just the paper, but the remnants of her broken heart.

Zoe's due date was just three days away, and she had scheduled the operation for that day. Madeline lay awake, wondering how Nathaniel would feel if he knew that on the same day, he would lose one child, while Zoe gave birth to another. Would he be happy for the arrival of his child with Zoe? Or would he mourn the loss of the child she could never give him?

But in that moment, Madeline realized something—Nathaniel's feelings no longer mattered. It was clear now. She had never been good enough for him in his family’s eyes. His mother had always disliked her, mocking her for being a "hen that couldn't lay eggs." Madeline had put up with it, but only because of Nathaniel. He had always defended her, stood by her side, and even moved out to live with her, away from his mother's cruel remarks. She had believed in his love, in his words that he didn’t need a child, that he was content with just her.

But it was all a lie. While she had endured years of painful IVF treatments in hopes of giving him the family he wanted, he had already been building a family with someone else, and now the child was on the verge of being born.

Madeline felt foolish, utterly naive. She didn’t want the child anymore. She didn’t want Nathaniel either.

Later that night, as Nathaniel quietly slipped into bed beside her, pulling her into his arms, Madeline could smell the familiar perfume on him once again. This time, she knew exactly where it came from.

"Why haven't you slept yet? Are you waiting for me?"

Nathaniel's voice was muffled, his hand gently teasing Madeline's earlobe as he murmured. His tone, laced with the familiar indifference that had begun to suffocate her, only made her stomach churn more. Whether it was the perfume on him, her morning sickness, or the nausea that came from his presence, Madeline didn’t know. All she knew was that she couldn’t breathe.

Unable to hold it in any longer, she pushed him away and rushed to the bathroom. Her stomach heaved, forcing acid up into her throat, and she collapsed by the toilet, her entire body trembling.

Nathaniel quickly followed her, his hand rubbing her back with an almost mechanical concern. "What's wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell? I'll take you to the hospital."

He made a move to grab his coat, but Madeline, her face pale and her mind racing, quickly grabbed his hand and stopped him. "No, I just ate something bad," she lied, her voice strained.

Nathaniel seemed unconvinced but helped her back to bed. "I’ll get you some water," he said, his voice still tinged with worry.

Once he left the room, Madeline’s eyes immediately flicked to his phone, which was sitting on the bedside table. The screen lit up with another message from Zoe.

“I'm sorry, I'm too nervous. I'm about to give birth, and I'm too scared. I prepared some food. Can you come tomorrow?”

Madeline’s heart twisted. She pretended not to see the message, her body sinking back onto the bed. She closed her eyes, pretending to rest.

When Nathaniel came back with a glass of water, he gently fed it to her, his hands tender as ever. "Madeline, I’ll go with you to the prenatal checkup tomorrow," he said, his voice soft with an intention that felt foreign.

"No," Madeline replied, her voice quieter than she intended. "I’ve already told the doctor that I won’t do IVF."

Nathaniel’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise, but relief quickly followed. "Then we have to go and see the results from last time."

"The doctor said I am not pregnant," Madeline said flatly. "So you don’t need to go tomorrow."

Nathaniel stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He seemed to want to say something, but ultimately, he didn’t. Instead, he pulled her into an embrace and lay down next to her.

His hand, warm and possessive, gently circled her lower abdomen. Madeline’s body stiffened at the touch, and she instinctively recoiled. "Nathaniel, don’t," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. "I’m not feeling well."

A low laugh rumbled from his chest. "Don’t worry, I won’t touch you. Go to sleep."

But when Madeline awoke the next morning, she instinctively reached for his side of the bed, only to find the sheets cold and empty. For a moment, she froze, before a bitter laugh escaped her lips. Zoe’s due date was approaching. Nathaniel must have gone to be with her. She should have known better than to expect anything else. She really needed to change this habit of hers—of still hoping he would stay.

The breakfast from the previous night was replaced with a new meal, and a note from Nathaniel was left behind.

“Last night’s food has gone bad. I’ve already thrown it out. When you wake up, heat it up. Don’t hurt your stomach. Call me if you need anything.”

Madeline stared at the empty trash can for a moment, then poured the still-warm breakfast into it, the weight of everything crashing down on her. It wasn’t the food that had gone bad. It was Nathaniel.

Madeline’s hands trembled as she hastily stuffed the last of her things into her suitcase. There wasn’t much to pack—just a small box containing the few belongings that truly belonged to her. Most of the things in her home had been gifts from Nathaniel. She didn’t want any of them anymore.

Once the box was sealed, she called a courier service. She filled out the form with her parents’ address in another city. The thought of going home, of being with people who loved her without conditions, felt like a distant dream—one she hadn’t allowed herself to entertain for five years. During all that time, she had been too ashamed to let her parents know about her struggles. She had done everything she could to give Nathaniel the family he wanted, enduring treatments, prayers, and hopes, always hiding the painful truth from the people who cared for her most.

This time, though, she was determined. She wanted to go home and never leave. The outside world had grown too cold, too cruel. The man she had trusted with her heart—the man she thought would be her rock—was the one who had pushed her into this abyss.

She walked into the mall, her mind set on buying a gift for her parents to show them how much she appreciated them, even though she hadn’t been around as much as she should have. As she was about to pay for a suit she’d chosen for her father, her eyes caught a familiar figure entering the store. It was Nathaniel, followed by Zoe, her pregnant belly obvious as she shyly stepped in behind him.

Madeline froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She quickly ducked into the nearest fitting room, her breath shallow and frantic. She didn’t want to be seen. Not like this. Not when the truth was finally out, and everything had crumbled apart.

From the fitting room, she could hear their voices clearly. Zoe’s cheerful voice rang out, "Nathan, what do you think of this suit?"