Each cry seemed to tear at my heart. If my children with Jonathan had been born, would they have called out "Daddy" and "Mommy" in such sweet voices too?

Jonathan's fleeting guilt vanished instantly. He grabbed Linda's arm to stop her from leaving. His voice was firm.

"I still make the decisions in the Rivers household. If I say Henry is my child, then he is my child! It doesn't matter if Claire refuses to accept it!"

He determinedly took Linda's hand and brought her and Henry back inside.

Jonathan settled them in the master bedroom. It was only after that did he spare some attention for me, who was standing dazed in the living room.

"Claire, Henry wants to sleep in the master bedroom with Linda and me, so you’ll need to move out for this month. You can move back when he's adjusted to the change here."

He spoke casually, as if it were a trivial matter. Without waiting for my answer, he turned and left, following Henry's repeated calls.

It was not a request for my opinion, but a notification. It was so firm and so unquestionable.

I suddenly remembered the year we first met. Jonathan had firmly grasped my hand, telling me that I would be his only love for life. He defied his family for me, and reformed his playboy ways for me. That Jonathan had once braved everything for me countless times.

I thought we would not repeat the mistakes of others, but it was also Jonathan who, in the seventh year of our marriage, brought home an illegitimate child and turned me into a laughingstock.

That night, I packed my things and moved out.

The next morning, I received news that Jonathan was hosting Henry's sixth birthday party.

The elite wives of Polesburg all inquired about me. Some were concerned, while others were gloating. Jonathan really could not wait, could he?

I replied to each message individually. "It's Jonathan's b*stard child."

Since he had the audacity to do such a thing, why could I not be frank about it?

Before noon, Jonathan returned in a rage, followed by a tearful Henry and Linda.

Seeing me leisurely eating at the table, Jonathan’s hand swept the dishes off the table. Food and water splashed everywhere. Broken glass pierced my calf, and I could not help but turn pale.

Jonathan did not even glance at me. I endured the pain and looked at Jonathan stubbornly.

He sneered. "Stop acting weak now, Claire. How can you be so vicious? It's Henry's birthday today and yet you told everyone he's a b*stard!"

Linda held the resentful Henry in her arms, tears streaming down her face. "Mrs. Rivers, I don't mind if you dislike me, but you don't have children. Henry is still the Rivers family's only heir. He's just a child. Do you know how much gossip hurts him?"

I looked at her coldly. "I only stated the facts. Isn't Henry a b*stard child? He's an illegitimate child with an unknown father!"

Jonathan suddenly slapped me. The force was so great that my lip split. Blood dripped from the corner of my mouth.

I looked up at him through my tears, yet his eyes were calm.

"Apologize to Henry and Linda!"

I retorted sarcastically, "Why should I apologize to a b*stard?"

Linda cried beside us. "Mr. Rivers, Henry isn't illegitimate. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have given birth to Henry, making him the subject of gossip. I shouldn't have brought Henry back to claim his rightful place."

Her words further enraged Jonathan. He grabbed me and dragged me all the way to the dim basement.

I struggled desperately, looking at him in terror.

"Claire, have I been too lenient with you? How dare you defy me!" He shoved me into the dark wine cellar.

I looked at him in despair. He locked the door without hesitation, his voice calm.

"You can come out when you've finished reflecting!"

Facing the complete darkness before me, I screamed in despair. He knew perfectly well that I feared darkness the most. He knew perfectly well that whenever I misbehaved as a child, my father would lock me in a dark room.

This was my lifelong nightmare.

Jonathan had once held me countless times with such tenderness. He promised that he would never let me suffer the slightest grievance.

Even so, it was also him who personally gave me a terrible nightmare.

I kept banging my head against the door until my fingers were bloody from clawing at it. I broke down and screamed.

"I was wrong! I shouldn't have called Henry an illegitimate child!”

"Please! I shouldn't have defied you! I'll never do it again, Jonathan!"

However, even after I shouted until my voice was hoarse and I was completely exhausted, no one came to open the door.

Finally, Linda's voice came from outside. She laughed sweetly. "Mrs. Rivers, you look so pathetic! It's too bad Mr. Rivers gave me the basement key. You'll have to please me if you want to get out!"

I begged desperately. "I'm sorry! I was wrong! Please let me out!"

Even so, Linda would not relent. She laughed and demanded I continue.

Just then, her phone rang. Her voice turned pitiful. "Mr. Rivers, Mrs. Rivers still refuses to admit her mistake. She's calling me a whore and Henry a b*stard.”

"All right, I'll keep Mrs. Rivers locked up until she apologizes."

After hanging up, Linda was triumphant.

"Mrs. Rivers, you finally fell into my hands! When you schemed to make Mr. Rivers abandon us years ago, you should have known this day would come!"

Her footsteps soon faded away.

I collapsed weakly on the floor. My voice was already hoarse, and the darkness silently consumed me. I could not control myself and bit my wrist until it bled. Blood flowed freely, and the blood loss made me dizzy.

Memories flashed through my mind like a slideshow. There was Jonathan, who knelt at my family's door for three days and nights to marry me.

There was Jonathan, who drove away my abusive father. His body was covered in blood, yet he was still holding and comforting me.

Then there was Jonathan on our wedding day, firmly placing the ring on my finger and promising to love me forever.

Yet all those Jonathans had eventually become the man who had calmly locked me in the basement. The beautiful memories of the past turned into blades that shredded my happiness to shreds.

Blood stained my clothes, and my consciousness gradually faded.

When I woke up again, I was already in the hospital. My wrist was wrapped in thick bandages.

I stared calmly at the bandaged wound. Wounds could heal, but the scars carved into my heart would never disappear.

The nurse notified them that I was awake. Jonathan rushed in, followed by Henry and Linda.

He embraced me tightly, his voice full of fear.

"Claire, why didn't you just apologize? Do you know you almost died?"

I calmly pushed him away. The scent of Linda’s rose perfume still clung to him, stinging my nose, and I frowned slightly.

"I did apologize. Linda wouldn't let me go."

Jonathan looked suspiciously between Linda and me. Linda's tears immediately began to flow.

"Mrs. Rivers, I know you don't like me, but you can't slander me! I endured it when you called me a whore and Henry a b*stard, but why must you slander me too?"

She cried pitifully, and Jonathan and Henry immediately rushed to comfort her. Jonathan looked at me impatiently.

"Claire, how long will you keep playing these underhanded tricks? Why can't you accept Henry and Linda?"

It was not that I could not accept them. It was that Jonathan's eyes were full of them and could not accept me.

"Don't think that hurting yourself will stop me from acknowledging Henry. I'm still holding his birthday party tomorrow!"

He pulled Linda and Henry into his arms, forming the image of a picture-perfect family with his beloved woman and child in his embrace. Meanwhile, his wife who he had once sworn eternal vows to seemed repulsive in comparison.

I let out a hoarse, low laugh. Jonathan took this as a sign of agreement.

"Remember to attend Henry's birthday party!"

I watched calmly as they left the hospital room. I opened my phone and booked a flight for tomorrow night.

I was discharged from the hospital that evening. Before I even reached home, I heard laughter from the doorway. The scene I had fantasized about countless times appeared before me.

Henry sat in Jonathan's lap while Linda smiled, feeding him spoonful by spoonful. My arrival seemed like that of an unwelcome guest, disrupting the perfect moment.

I walked into the guest bedroom by myself, only to find all my belongings scattered on the floor. There were small footprints on my dresses and yellow urine stains on the bed.

I walked out holding the only clean corner of the bedsheet and looked at Henry, whose face was full of defiance.

Jonathan looked down and frowned. "Henry, why did you urinate on Claire's bedsheet?"

Linda gently patted his bottom. "Henry, when did you do this? Apologize to Mrs. Rivers right now!"

Henry apologized obediently, though his eyes showed no trace of remorse.

Jonathan warned him, "Don't do it again!"

He raised his hand high but brought it down gently. Jonathan was actually a doting father, I thought sarcastically.

Even so, I would not let him off easily.

I stood in front of him, picked up his favorite toy, threw it to the ground. And then? Crushed it under my foot.

Henry burst into tears while Linda quickly picked him up to comfort him.

Jonathan frowned deeply and lit a cigarette. "Claire, you haven’t learned your lesson. Who gave you permission to treat Henry like that?"

He walked over and grabbed my throat as if intending to crush it, pinning me against the wall. My breathing became labored, but I did not beg for mercy. I simply looked at him calmly, my eyes still as water.

The moment our eyes met, I spoke in broken gasps. "Jonathan, you're becoming more like my father lately."

As if he had heard something terrifying, he instinctively loosened his grip. His pupils contracted sharply.

I could breathe again, but I did not look at him. I just kept crying while laughing maniacally.

That night, I was forced to sleep on the couch.

In the early hours, I stirred awake to find my nightgown had slipped open. Jonathan's large hand gripped my breast, his eyes dark with desire. I knew this was a sign of his arousal.

He leaned in to kiss me, but I slapped him across the face. I looked at him calmly, my voice cold. "Don't touch me. I find you disgusting!"

Jonathan sneered at me. "Claire, you don't actually think you're the only woman I have, do you? I could have countless women throwing themselves at me with just a snap of my fingers!" Perhaps he said this to demonstrate his charm to me.

Later, Linda's high-pitched moans suddenly began to echo from the master bedroom.

"Mr. Rivers, keep it down! Don't wake Henry!"

This only brought louder sounds that continued intermittently throughout the night, but I no longer felt any heartache.

The next morning, Jonathan had me dressed up like an exquisite doll and escorted into the car. I had once sat in this same car full of anticipation when I married Jonathan. Now, times had changed, and this car carried his mistress and child.

Jonathan looked dashing in his suit, as spirited as he had been on our wedding day. Linda and Henry were also dressed elegantly.

When I got in the car, Linda's eyes burned with jealousy while a flash of amazement crossed Jonathan's eyes. He grabbed my hand and forcibly pulled me to his side.

Unable to break free, I looked out the window at the passing scenery.

Suddenly, an out-of-control truck came charging toward us. In an instant, the world spun around us. Only Jonathan, who sat in the safest spot, remained unharmed.

The car leaked gasoline and could explode at any moment. Blood covered my face as I saw Jonathan reach out his hand to me. I tremblingly extended my hand toward his.

Then I heard Linda's wailing beside me. "Mr. Rivers, Henry's dying! Take him to the hospital quickly! I'll save Mrs. Rivers!"

Jonathan hesitated for only a moment before picking up Henry and running toward the hospital, leaving me behind.

The gasoline was ignited by an electrical spark and burst into flames. Linda turned and ran when she saw this, abandoning me in the raging fire.

Watching their disappearing figures, I struggled with all my strength to crawl out, but it was futile.

Goodbye, Jonathan. I will never see you again.

Those years of vows and promises seemed like a curse, turning into smoke and ash.

Jonathan had broken his word. He had personally abandoned me, but fortunately, I had also broken my word. I no longer loved him.