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?"

Nathaniel’s voice was laced with impatience. “Whatever.”

Zoe, undeterred, continued to act coy. “Just try it on. Aunt Victoria never liked your usual style. She said I have good taste. She’s just back from her trip abroad, so let’s surprise her this time.”

Madeline’s heart, already shattered, took another blow. So, Nathan’s mother knew about Zoe. All this time, it had been Madeline buying Nathaniel’s clothes, trying to please a woman who had never once liked her. No matter what Madeline did, it was never enough.

She had been kept in the dark from the start, a fool in her own life, a mere shadow of the person she once believed herself to be. She smiled bitterly to herself.

Zoe pushed Nathaniel into the fitting room next door, and Madeline could hear the rustling of clothes as he changed. A part of her wanted to see what kind of clothes he was wearing now—what would make Nathan's mother finally approve of him?

Suddenly, Nathaniel’s voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and commanding. “Who let you in?”

Zoe’s voice responded hesitantly, “I wanted to help you sort it out.”

“No. You go out.”

Zoe persisted. “You didn’t do it right in the back, and the clothes will get wrinkled. I’ll be quick. We can leave after this, Aunt Victoria must be waiting.”

Nathaniel finally relented with a sigh, and Madeline could hear the soft hum of Zoe as she began to sort through his clothes.

“Nathan, you look so handsome. Aunt Victoria will be so happy.”

Unable to resist, Madeline quietly cracked open the door to peek at Nathaniel’s outfit. It was simple, nothing extraordinary. But as long as it wasn’t something she had picked out for him, Madeline thought bitterly, it would surely be praised by Aunt Victoria.

“I’ll go check out,” Nathaniel said, adjusting his collar as he walked toward the cashier.

“Yeah, you go first,” Zoe responded. “I’ll sit for a while, my legs are tired.” She leaned back in the chair and began to rub her legs, acting as if she were a spoiled child.

Nathaniel's expression was tinged with concern. Zoe, sensing his unease, reassured him softly, “Don’t worry so much. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

Nathaniel frowned slightly, but didn’t press the issue, turning instead to pay the bill. Madeline quickly closed the door behind him and sank into the chair, waiting for Zoe to leave.

"I know you're in there," Zoe's voice rang out, startling Madeline. Her heart began to race, and she held her breath, paralyzed by the fear of being exposed, as if she were the one in the wrong.

Zoe, however, paid no mind to her silence and spoke as if to herself, “Nathan is so good to me. He really loves this child. I just hope you can stop bothering him. Of course, even if you insist, you'll end up with nothing."

Madeline's blood boiled in her veins. Zoe, the one who had interfered, was now talking as though she had every right to claim Nathaniel. It was as if she was issuing a command, demanding Madeline leave.

Her hand gripped the door handle, and for a moment, Madeline considered rushing out to confront them. But then, the weight of helplessness sank in. She let go of the handle and sank back into the chair. What was the point of going out? She had already decided to leave. Why make this any more humiliating than it already was?

Even knowing Nathaniel had betrayed her, Madeline couldn’t bring herself to confront him as he protected another woman, the one who had taken her place.

She closed her eyes, resigned. In just two days, everything will be over. At least she'd leave with some dignity and the memory of eight years of marriage with Nathaniel.

"Who are you talking to?" Nathaniel’s voice came from outside, tinged with suspicion.

"No one," Zoe replied smoothly. "I was just talking to the baby. He must be so eager to meet his father. Are you looking forward to it, too, Nathan?"

"Let’s go," Nathaniel replied curtly, as Zoe eagerly led him out, chattering about the beautiful future they would have with the child.

As Nathaniel instinctively placed a hand protectively on Zoe's stomach, Madeline waited for them to leave completely. The moment they were gone, she stepped out of the fitting room.

The shop assistant, noticing her tear-streaked face, asked gently, "Miss, why are you crying?"