My sister gets into an accident and needs an emergency blood transfusion when I'm six months pregnant. After a round of tests, my blood is the only suitable one.

I'm exhausted and too skinny after being tormented by morning sickness. I have to say no. However, my family forces me to do it.

I have no strength to resist; I can only beg my husband for help. To my devastation, he stands by and watches me coldly. "It's fine for you to donate some blood since you're so healthy. Queenie isn't the same as you—she has a bright future ahead, so we can't let anything affect that."

I pass out after the blood donation. The first thing I do when I wake up is make an appointment for an abortion.

"Mrs. Palmer, do you really want to terminate this pregnancy? You know Mr. Palmer's situation. If you go through with this, it'll be very difficult for him to have children in the future. Once the abortion is done, there's no turning back!"

The doctor looked at me in disbelief and even took out Henry's medical report.

"Mrs. Palmer, the fact that you were able to conceive Mr. Palmer's child this time is already considered a medical miracle. I advise you to reconsider—"

"No need. Go ahead with the procedure," I interrupted the doctor calmly.

Since no one cared about this child, why should I take the risk of giving birth, only for the child to suffer in this world?

After scheduling the abortion, I returned to Henry Palmer's villa.

He was just walking out of the kitchen while carrying a lunchbox.

Seeing me return weak and pale, he didn't even pause for a second. He simply reminded me, "I left some chicken soup in the pot to help replenish your blood. Make sure you have it for dinner. You lost quite a bit of blood, so you need to recover."

I watched as he got ready to leave and asked, "What about you? Where are you going?"

Henry immediately frowned, looking displeased.

"To the hospital, obviously. Queenie went through such a huge ordeal. She needs someone to take care of her. You're the only one acting as if none of this concerns you!"

As he spoke, he gave me a look of utter disdain.

"I had to beg you just to donate blood. I don't understand how you can be so cold-blooded and heartless. You refused to save your own sister!"

In that instant, I felt as though I could hear my heart shattering into pieces.

I bit the inside of my cheek and stared at Henry with unwavering intensity.

"I'm cold-blooded and heartless? Then who was I doing this for? If I wasn't pregnant, I would've donated my blood!"

At the mention of the child, Henry stormed toward me in an instant. He towered over me with a vicious glare.

"You're still using the baby as an excuse? It's just a blood donation, not your life! Do you really think you're that delicate? You think your baby can't survive just because you donate blood?"

I could hardly believe these words came from my own husband's mouth.

Stunned, I stared at him. My voice was weak. It was as if all my strength had drained away.

"Do you even realize I haven't had a proper meal in six months? If I weren't so malnourished, I wouldn't have collapsed in the blood donation room."

For a brief moment, a trace of guilt flickered in Henry's eyes, but that guilt was quickly replaced by anger and resentment.

He reached out and tightly gripped my chin.

"If you weren't pregnant and constantly causing trouble, I wouldn't have had to take you to the hospital for a checkup, and Queenie wouldn't have gotten into that car accident! You're the one to blame for everything!"

My chin throbbed in pain as it turned red and bruised beneath his grip.

At that moment, I finally understood that he truly believed everything was my fault.

He thought I owed my younger sister, Queenie Reed.

But I was his wife, and I was carrying his child.

Yet, he would rather take Queenie shopping than accompany me to the hospital for a prenatal checkup.

A sudden laugh escaped me.

To Henry, it sounded as if I was mocking him and challenging his authority.

His expression twisted in rage, and he slapped me hard across the face. His eyes were filled with disgust.

"You're the reason Queenie is at the hospital, and you still have the nerve to laugh? Stephanie Reed, I never realized how truly vicious you are. You absolutely disgust me."

With that, he stormed out of the villa in anger.

I slowly raised my head and reached up to wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth.

It was fine.

Soon enough, he would know what it really felt like to have his heart shattered.

After Henry left, there was no news from him at all.

I waited for him day and night, but he never came back.

I was starving and couldn't bear it anymore. Despite my weakness, I forced myself to go to the kitchen and prepare something to eat.

There was a pressure cooker on the stove. I opened it and looked inside. There indeed was chicken soup there.

There were also some scraps of meat, along with a chicken neck and chicken butt.

Henry had taken all the best cuts of meat. There wasn't a single piece left.

I froze for a moment before letting out an unbelievable laugh.

I didn't even know what I was still hoping for.

I boiled a bowl of instant pasta with plain water.

That was when Henry came back.

Seeing me wobbling as I carried the bowl of pasta out, he frowned slightly.

"You're pregnant, and you're eating this? How is this nutritious?"

He stepped forward to support me and helped me sit at the dining table. He even thoughtfully pulled out a chair for me.

I glanced at him in surprise.

I sat down and took two bites of the pasta before putting my utensils down.

"I don't have the fortune of enjoying food made by others, so I can only make do with a bowl of pasta."

A trace of awkwardness appeared on Henry's face. He cleared his throat lightly and glanced at me.

"If you hadn't been saying those things to provoke me today, I wouldn't have gotten so mad that I forgot about this. Besides, I left you some chicken, didn't I? You're pregnant—you shouldn't be picky. Meat is meat, you should eat it," he muttered nonstop.

I pressed my temples irritably, and my face grew paler.

"Can you stop talking? Did you forget that just the smell of chicken soup makes me want to vomit? How could I possibly eat it?"

Henry, who was about to lose his temper, suddenly stopped.

It was almost comical.

He really had forgotten about that.

"I-It's just… I was busy taking care of Queenie today and forgot. She said she wanted chicken soup, so of course, I had to prioritize the patient."

As he spoke, Henry seemed to gain more confidence and started mocking me, "Besides, your limbs are still working, and you're not sick. You just lost a bit of blood. Do you really have to act as if you're dying?"

My chest tightened with frustration at his words.

Queenie. It was always Queenie.

In Henry's eyes, even though I was carrying the child of the Palmer family, no matter how much I suffered, I would never be as important as Queenie.

When I thought back to when Henry and I first got married, I remembered that everyone in his family had belittled me. They said I wasn't good enough for him. They all believed that Queenie and Henry were a perfect match.

They even went behind my back, using my name to invite him out on trips.

At first, Henry would always tell me about it.

But as time passed, he changed. He stopped mentioning Queenie inviting him out.

Now I finally understood. Maybe the day he stopped telling me was the day his heart wavered.

Noticing my silence and dazed expression, Henry said, "Alright, honey, I know you've had a hard time. You're pregnant, yet you still risked yourself to donate blood. Come on. Let me feed you."

He lifted the bowl and picked up a bit of pasta with the utensils. Then he brought it to my mouth in an attempt to please me.

A faint fragrance drifted from his sleeve and reached my nose.

It was Queenie's scent.

A wave of nausea surged up in me.

I couldn't hold it in anymore and ran straight to the bathroom to vomit.

The two bites of pasta I had just eaten all came back up.

After finally regaining some composure, I lifted my head and looked at my weak and disheveled reflection in the mirror.

Behind me, Henry looked a little flustered.

He held onto my arm and asked with concern, "Honey, what's wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital for a check-up?"

I shook off his hand forcefully and said flatly, "No. Just stay away from me."

Henry's face darkened as he was just trying to appease me just now.

When I walked back to the bedroom, he muttered under his breath, "I swear, you're just ungrateful. I was trying to help you, and yet you're acting all high and mighty."

I heard what he said.

Lying on the bed, I panted heavily. My eyes turned red.

I met Henry at a musical.

I was a dancer on stage, and he was a musician for the show. Our teacher introduced us.

The first time I saw him, I was captivated by his dedication to music.

During rehearsals, I was careless and almost fell off the stage.

Henry caught me in time, cushioning my fall so I didn't get hurt. But his right leg fractured.

At that time, I was trembling in fear.

He hugged me tightly.

"What are you afraid of? I don't want any compensation from you. Besides, even if my leg is broken, it won't affect me much. But for you, a fracture in your leg would change your entire life."

I fell into his gentle embrace because of those words.

Unfortunately, I now realized that dedication to music didn't mean loyalty in love.

He loved the way I danced, but he could just as easily fall for Queenie's youthful movements.

I was half-asleep and vaguely heard Henry push the door open.

He was holding a bowl of my favorite oatmeal with fruit. "Wake up, honey. You can't just sleep without eating anything. It's bad for your health."

I remained still.

For once, Henry didn't get angry. Instead, he carefully helped me sit up in bed and spoke softly.

"Even if you're mad at me and don't want to eat, at least think about the baby. The baby needs nutrition. Eat this, and you can take out all your anger on me afterward."

For the first time in forever, he was coaxing me with patience.

I couldn't help but glance at him.

Henry held the bowl with a flicker of eagerness in his eyes.

The last time he was this gentle and considerate, he had a favor to ask.

He wanted me to give up my spot in the dance competition for Queenie.

"You're already pregnant anyway, so you can't compete in the dance contest. Why not let Queenie have the spot? She's been wanting to join this competition for so long."

I suddenly realized that he was asking for something again.

Calmly, I took the bowl from Henry's hands and looked at him expressionlessly.

"Go ahead, tell me. What do you want this time?"

Henry gave an awkward smile. "Honey, what are you talking about? Even if I didn't want anything from you, making you food is something I should do."

"If you won't say it, I'll take it that nothing's going on."

His expression changed immediately, and as if afraid I'd refuse, he quickly blurted out, "It's just that Queenie wants to eat your pot roast and creamy clam chowder. I've already bought the ingredients. Just make them tomorrow, and I'll bring them to her."

Even though I had been prepared for this, his words still felt as though a sword was slowly piercing my heart, inch by inch.

At this point, even if I had been oblivious before, I finally understood that I had long been worthless in everyone's eyes.

Growing up, I was nothing more than a maid in my own home. I was ordered around by Queenie.

My parents only doted on her, wishing they could give her everything in the world.

She had the happiness I could only dream of.

She got to learn painting and dancing, while I had to beg my parents for half a month just to get my school tuition.

I even only got to dance because of Queenie.

She didn't want to go, but since the fee had already been paid, I volunteered.

Later, Queenie became jealous and started making a fuss about wanting to dance.

To motivate her, my parents allowed me to continue learning dance.

Even so, I wasn't even worthy of owning a pair of ballet shoes.

Every time I danced, I was barefoot.

Queenie would always step on me purposely, making everyone laugh.

"Stephanie, you look so ugly dancing barefoot!"

Then, Henry proposed to me, and I married him with no hesitation.

I thought I could escape those tormenting days.

But now, I realized that those days never really ended.

They just changed form.

The person tormenting me had become my husband.