“Damn, I didn’t expect Mrs. Fowler to be that hot. No wonder Conrad used to worship the ground she walked on. I heard once, some CEO spilled wine on her dress by accident and Conrad had the guy’s entire company wiped out from New York overnight!”

“So what? She’s just another woman. He got bored and dumped her. Word is, that homeless guy was hired by Mr. Fowler himself, all because Mrs. Fowler drugged his mistress.”

“Tsk, tsk. A wife getting played like that by the side chick? Embarrassing.”

Zara’s fingernails broke from clenching too hard, but she didn’t even feel the pain.

She scrambled to turn off the video, but Conrad grabbed her and forced her down.

“Can’t handle it now? When you spiked Wrena’s soup and made her strip in front of everyone, did you ever think this day would come?”

“I didn’t—”

Zara didn’t even understand what had happened. All she remembered was Wrena stumbling in, pale and weepy, accusing her in front of everyone.

“Mrs. Fowler, it’s not what you think. Conrad and I are just close friends. If you didn’t want to make me that soup, you could’ve said no. Why did you have to drug it and make me a laughingstock?”

Only then did Zara realize that after Wrena had the soup she brought, she’d started tearing off her clothes uncontrollably. During the examination, Wrena had even started dancing seductively in front of the doctors and nurses.

Conrad had immediately ordered all the footage destroyed and paid everyone hush money.

But the soup Zara brought? It tested positive for drugs.

“Conrad, I didn’t drug her. What do I have to do for you to believe me?”

Looking at her shattered face—so fragile and desperate—Conrad, for the first time, began to doubt.

Zara had always been kind. She even took him in when he was just some stranger passed out on the roadside.

Would she really try to poison Wrena?

“Zara, it’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just... everything you’ve done lately—”

Before he could finish, the ground started to shake violently.

Someone screamed, “Earthquake!”

Panic erupted as everyone ran for the exits. Instinctively, Conrad turned toward Zara.

“Zara, don’t worry! I’m coming—”

“Mr. Fowler! I twisted my ankle—it hurts!”

For a split second, Zara saw the hesitation in his eyes.

Then came the words: “Zara, I’ll get Wrena out first. I’ll come back for you right away!”

And just like that, he rushed off—straight to Wrena—without another glance back.

The room was chaos. A massive chandelier above Zara snapped loose and came crashing down, slamming into her head. Blood poured down her face.

As her vision blurred, she saw Conrad carrying Wrena to safety.

She suddenly remembered that summer trip to Alaska. They’d gone skiing and got caught in an avalanche. Conrad had the chance to escape but chose to shield her with his own body.

"Do you believe in ‘till death do us part?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Well, I don’t. Because if you die, I’d kill myself so even death can’t do us part.”

Back then, when she was shivering amidst the snowstorm, Conrad stripped off his jacket to wrap her up. Even when he shivered himself. 

His love used to be real. And maybe that’s what makes it hurt so much now.

The earthquake hit a magnitude seven and rocked the entire city.

By the time the rescue team arrived, the entire venue had collapsed into rubble.

Zara had been trapped beneath the debris for thirty hours.

As her consciousness faded, she thought she heard Conrad’s frantic roar from outside.

“Where the hell are the rescue teams? What’s taking them so long? Dig her out! Now!”

She was unconscious for three full days.

When Zara finally woke up, the first thing she saw were Conrad’s bloodshot eyes. He stared at her, guilt flashing in his expression. “The baby’s gone, but we can have another. You’re still young. It was an accident…” 

“What baby?” she asked.

A look of pain crossed his face. As she opened her mouth to say more, the realization suddenly hit her—her period was over a month late.

She didn’t even know she’d been pregnant.

Now, the weight of grief crashed down on her. Zara clutched her stomach and sobbed, “I’m so sorry, baby….”

“Don’t mourn it. It’s just a baby. If you lost it, that means it wasn’t developing right. No big deal, I’ll give you another one.”

As Conrad spoke, Zara bit her lip hard, tears spilling down her cheeks.

So to him, this baby was either faulty… or never meant to exist?

She was about to say something when Conrad’s phone rang.

“Mr. Fowler, my chest hurts so bad… can you come now?” Wrena’s weak voice came through.

“What? Your chest hurt? Wait, I’m on my way!”

Conrad hung up, only then realizing Zara had heard everything.

His expression shifted slightly, but all he said was, “You’re too emotional right now. I’ll visit you again another day.”

As he turned to leave, Zara couldn’t hold back anymore. “Conrad, our child just died and you’re running to her?”

He didn’t answer. But his silence said it all.

He left without hesitation.

Three days later, Zara invited a well-known priest to perform a blessing for her lost child. After the ritual, the priest sighed heavily.

“Miss, the child has passed. Let the living carry on.”

Zara stood under the Wishing Tree, hugging the small urn of ashes.

The tree was covered in red ribbons, each one with a wish written on it.

“I hope the one I love stays with me forever — Conrad.”

“I hope Zara always stays happy and carefree — Conrad.”

“I hope Zara gives me a child soon — Conrad.”

All those wishes written in a strong strike, like the writer meant every words. Wishes that once meant everything to him—now shattered by his own hand.

Zara climbed a ladder and took the ribbons down, one by one.

Rain started falling in a light drizzle.

As she was about to climb down, Wrena suddenly appeared.

“This child was born dead. It’s a jinx. Let me help you get rid of it,” Wrena said calmly.

“Don’t—”

The urn slipped and shattered on the stone path. Ash scattered between the cracks.

Zara dropped to her knees, trying to gather the remains with her fingers, but it was pointless.

She broke down in tears. She couldn’t even tell if it was rain or her own sobbing anymore.

When she finally stood, she slapped Wrena across the face. 

“You did that on purpose!”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wrena said innocently. “I was only trying to help.”

At that moment, Conrad arrived.

He instinctively moved toward Zara, but Wrena quickly grabbed his arm. “Mr. Fowler, I’m so clumsy—I dropped the urn by accident and she hit me. She also said… even if she died, she’d never have another child with you…”

Conrad froze.

“Was that true, Zara?”

It was clearly just another one of Wrena’s tricks, but instead of denying it, Zara said,

“Yes. I’ll never have another child with you.”

“Zara Dandrige!” Conrad shouted, veins bulging at his temple. “I thought after the earthquake you would’ve calmed down. But if you’re going to keep acting like this, I’ll just send you abroad to cool off!”

He gave the order and no one dared defy it.

In the end, all Zara could gather was a tiny amount of ash.

That afternoon, she placed two ornate boxes on the nightstand—one with their divorce papers and one with what remained of their child.

After that, she took her suitcase and walked out. Just as she reached the front door, Conrad showed up.

“Eager to leave? Good. Go clear your head. Come back when you’ve calmed down,” he said coldly. “

“I’ll drive you.”

She was about to refuse when his phone rang again.

“What? But I paid off all your debts—there’s no reason for them to come after you! Okay, calm down, Wrena. I’m on my way.”

He shot Zara a long glance, then left in a hurry.

Conrad gave her a sharp glance and walked away.

That glance said it all.

It was goodbye.

Zara tore up the plane ticket he’d arranged for her and hailed a cab to the airport.

Her parents were waiting there, ready to welcome her home.

Meanwhile, Conrad couldn’t shake the unease creeping over him. As the flight time approached, he turned to his assistant.

“Has her plane taken off yet? Go check.”

A moment later, the assistant’s face turned pale.

“Sir… the plane she was on—it just crashed in a typhoon!”