On the night of our fifth wedding anniversary, I drove out to Long Island, to the dream house we were renovating. I wanted to give Blake a surprise.

While I was waiting, I spotted the tablet he'd left on the counter. The screen was lit up, showing an unread email in his inbox.

From: Maya Lyons, his childhood sweetheart.

"Blake, thank you for everything. I can finally have a baby of my own."

The email included an attachment: a confirmation from a top New York fertility clinic for a "directed donation" procedure.

A chill shot through me. My hand instinctively flew to my stomach.

And inside me, our baby was growing.

Blake... You really thought you could have it all, didn't you?

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1

I slipped the positive pregnancy test back into my Hermès handbag, my hand resting protectively over my stomach.

I silently apologized to the little life inside me.

I had wanted to share the news on our anniversary. Blake Ross had always longed for a child.

Apparently, he'd rather have one with Maya Lyons.

It explained why he’d been smiling at his phone so much lately. His heart was no longer with me.

The next day, he nonchalantly handed me an expensive Cartier bracelet as a gift.

As usual, placating me with an expensive trinket.

In his eyes, I was just a dull housewife, a woman who could be pacified with jewelry.

That night, he lay beside me, his arm wrapping around me. His warm breath brushed against my neck, but all I felt was a bone-chilling cold.

The old me would have broken down, demanding to know why he had to betray me, why he kept hurting his own wife.

How could the heir to the Ross Group do something as absurd as donating sperm for his childhood sweetheart?

But now, I just lay there silently, shifting away when he tried to pull me closer.

He sensed my distance and immediately went on the defensive.

"Darling, it's not what you think. Maya and I are just friends. I'm helping her fulfill her mother's dying wish."

"As long as she has this child, her mother can pass on in peace. After this is over, I promise I'll keep my distance from her, okay?"

I remained silent.

My silence exhausted his patience. His voice sharpened.

"Charlotte Davenport, I'm talking to you! What's with the silent treatment? It's just a sperm donation. Do you have to be so selfish and make such a big deal out of it?"

"I could have hidden this from you," he shot back, his voice dripping with indignation. "Telling you was a sign of respect!" He threw back the covers, slipped on his robe, and stormed into the guest room. The door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the house.

The door frame trembled in the silence. In the vast, empty bedroom, I was alone.

So this was my reward for the anniversary surprise I had so carefully prepared.

Was it because my love for him had made me too accommodating? Too willing to yield? Is that why he dared to treat me this way?

No matter how much I loved him, I could not accept my husband having a child with another woman.

The next day, my mind was made up.

I called my childhood friend, Julian Rhys. Julian was the top divorce lawyer in New York. He had once sworn he would always protect me.

I told him I wanted a divorce and needed his help. He agreed without hesitation.

Then, I went to the clinic and scheduled an abortion.

In the operating room, the doctor asked if I was sure. My voice didn't waver. "I'm sure. I want to terminate the pregnancy."

The doctor looked at me with surprise. "Mrs. Ross, after all you've been through to conceive."

I forced a bitter smile, offering no explanation.

A flicker of understanding crossed his face, and he immediately began the arrangements.

The procedure was quick, over in less than half an hour.

But as I walked out of the clinic, physically and emotionally drained, I saw them in the parking lot.

Blake was carefully helping Maya into the car. His face was etched with concern, a tenderness he had never once shown me.

He even gently placed a hand on Maya's stomach. This from the man who only ever yelled at me.

"Blake, don't be so nervous," Maya said softly. "The doctor said I'm fine."

"I just hate seeing you go through this," Blake murmured, his brow furrowed in distress.

Maya’s soft reply was like a knife to my gut. "It's all my fault. If I had just come back sooner, we wouldn't have all these problems."

My chest tightened, and it felt hard to breathe.

Just then, Blake spotted me. His frown deepened. "Are you following me?"

I didn't answer. But Maya, ever the peacemaker, feigned understanding. "Blake, Charlotte will understand. After all we've been through... Why would she follow us?"

Ha. Did she really think I was still that meek and submissive Mrs. Ross?

I let out a cold laugh. "You two are a match made in heaven, aren't you? After all, you're already planning to have a child together."

Blake's face turned ashen. "What the hell are you talking about? Maya and I are just friends!"

My body, still weak from the procedure, couldn't bear standing for long. A dull ache spread through my abdomen. I had no energy to argue, so I turned to leave.

But Maya suddenly took a step forward, blocking my path.

"Charlotte, wait." Before she could finish her sentence, she feigned a dizzy spell, collapsing dramatically against Blake.

Panic flashed in Blake's eyes. He shoved me hard and roared, "Are you crazy? Can't you see she's not well? Are you trying to give her a heart attack?"

Without another word, he shielded her with his body, helped her into the car, and sped away.

Watching them disappear, I felt no regret. She needed protection, but what about me?

The day Maya returned to New York, I should have known our marriage was over.

Back at the hotel Julian had arranged for me, I saw Maya's new Instagram post. It was a photo of a hand resting on an abdomen.

The caption read: "The bliss of being protected."

The post was flooded with comments.

"OMG, is that Blake from the Ross Group? Look at how gentle he is!"

"Of course, a childhood sweetheart gets special treatment."

"So you're finally having a child together? Congratulations!"

A short while later, Blake himself commented: "Don't spread rumors. I don't want Charlotte to get the wrong idea. We're just friends."

Someone immediately replied: "Give me a break. Everyone knows how you feel about Maya. If someone hadn't gotten in the way, you two would have been together years ago."

In the eyes of his friends in the financial world, I was the one who was in the way.

The truth was, five years ago, it was Maya who dumped him to try her luck in Los Angeles. It was me who stood by him during his lowest point.

I typed a reply: "Don't worry, that day will come soon."

Then, I posted a picture of my discharge papers from the clinic. The caption: "Saying goodbye to a future that should have never begun."

Instantly, my post set New York high society ablaze.

Likes and comments poured in, all from my family's old friends. Blake's circle was dead silent.

A moment later, my brother Grayson called. Then my father. Then Blake, over and over. I didn't answer a single one.

Grayson finally sent a text. "Julian told me everything. You just had surgery. He's on his way to get you. You need someone to take care of you right now."

I quickly zipped up my suitcase and headed for the door.

However, before I could take a single step, the hotel room door was swiped open. Blake burst in, his face a mask of fury.

He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight I thought the bone might snap.

"Just because I helped Maya, you went behind my back and terminated the pregnancy? Are you insane? You didn't even tell me you were pregnant! Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this child?"

His words made my stomach churn.

Even now, did he still think I would be willing to have his child?

I ignored him and tried to brush past, but he yanked me back.

"I promised you—once we had our own child, I would cut ties with Maya completely. Isn't that enough?"

His audacity was breathtaking. I never knew a person could be so utterly shameless.

I couldn't take it anymore. I slapped him hard across the face.

"I don't care what you promise. I want a divorce! Haven't you always been desperate to be with Maya? My lawyer will be in touch."

With that, I walked out of the gilded cage that had trapped me for five years, and I never once looked back.

Behind me, Blake's furious roars echoed down the hallway.

"If you dare walk out that door, don't even think about coming back!"

How ridiculous. This was a decision I would never regret.

I called a car and headed to Julian's penthouse apartment on Manhattan's Upper East Side.

When I arrived, Julian was already waiting for me at the door, worry etched into his features.

I told him about Maya asking Blake to be the father of her child, and Julian was livid.

"I knew it. He's a shameless bastard. Leave this to me, Charlotte. I'll handle everything."

Being with someone who genuinely cared, I felt a warmth I hadn't experienced in a long time. My defenses crumbled, and I broke down, sobbing in his arms.

Five years ago, I married Blake against everyone's advice. My parents, my brother, my relatives, my friends—not a single person supported it.

Even my childhood friend, Julian, had repeatedly warned me against it.

Back then, I thought they all looked down on Blake because the Ross family was merely "new money," having risen from the tech bubble.

I was so determined to prove my choice was right. I was so wrong.

Five years of my youth, wasted. But I was finally awake.

No matter what he did next, I would never go back.

However, Blake refused to agree to a divorce.

He sent a message: "Fine, we can get a divorce. But I need to talk to you in person."

I replied: "There's nothing left to say. If you don't sign, I'll see you in court."

His reply was nauseating: "You're making a mountain out of a molehill. Maya just wants a child. It has nothing to do with our marriage, why can't you understand?"

Every time her name came up, he painted Maya as some innocent victim.

I was pregnant, yet he was on the phone with her all day. Our anniversary? One call from Maya and he dropped everything to run to her side. He spent the entire day with her, going to various check-ups. He bought her gifts for every holiday.

If I got upset, he would scold me. "Come on, she suffered so much in Los Angeles and came back with huge debts. We grew up together. If I don't take care of her, who will?"

Looking back, I realized my unconditional love had turned a man who knew how to give into one who only knew how to take.