###3

She pulled out the dagger and aimed it at her abdomen, but in a flash, Nate grabbed it.

Blood trickled down his hand, seeping through his fingers, yet he didn’t flinch—only frowned slightly.

“Oh, Nate!”

Cassie gasped in panic, letting go of the hilt.

Nate immediately hurled the dagger out the window and pulled her tightly into his arms.

“Don’t ever do that again! I’m still recovering. If something happens to you, I’ll be devastated!”

Cassie nodded like a frightened kitten, then leaned up and kissed him gently.

“You’re bleeding a lot. I was so scared.”

“For you, this injury is nothing.”

The pain in his palm only fueled his desire. With a dark gleam in his eyes, he pressed her against the wall.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My child had just died, and here they were—having an affair in the ward!

Cassie’s sobs broke the silence.

“I thought it was just for the umbilical cord blood. I didn’t think it would kill your baby. I’m sorry... it’s all my fault.”

Nate wiped away her crocodile tears, his expression soft.

“It was just bad luck. Don’t blame yourself.”

“After all, a premature baby isn’t more important than your health.”

That was his own flesh and blood—how could he be so cold?

My chest ached so deeply I could hardly breathe.

Cassie tilted her head toward me and said with a smirk,

“Now that Ruth’s child is gone, how about I give you another one to make up for it?”

Nate gave me a quick glance, then grinned wickedly.

“Alright. If you get pregnant, I’ll buy you an island in the Pacific and a star to name after our child.”

He really adored her and the child they hadn’t even conceived.

But what had he ever given me during either of my pregnancies? Nothing.

He didn’t even care about decorating the nursery.

“I’ll leave that to you, Ruth. I trust your taste—you’ll make it a beautiful little castle.”

I thought that was faith in me. Now I know he simply didn’t care at all.

Nate gasped with excitement.

“As long as you behave, I can give you everything—except the title of wife.”

My pillow was soaked with silent tears.

I swore I would never let him live in peace again.

Finally, the disgusting sounds stopped.

Nate pulled up his pants and said,

“I’ll help your dad get the funds. Don’t worry. Just focus on getting better.”

Cassie pouted, eyes worried.

“But he owes so much. Why won’t they let him go?”

Nate kissed her forehead.

“I said I’ll handle it.”

Just then, his gaze flickered to my trembling lips under the moonlight. His heart skipped.

He pushed Cassie aside and rushed to my bedside, eyes wide.

“Ruth… are you awake?”

###4

I kept my eyes shut.

He let out a sigh of relief and gently wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“Sweetheart, you had a nightmare. I’m here now. Don’t be scared…”

I frowned and instinctively turned away from the lips that had just kissed another woman.

His expression froze, then his eyes turned red, and his fists clenched in frustration.

“Ruth, I swear I’ll never let you suffer again.”

But haven’t all my wounds and pain come from you?

Just then, a soft, pitiful sob came from the floor, and Nate noticed Cassie lying there like a wounded little bird.

He immediately let go of my hand and rushed over to her, cradling her in his arms and gently massaging her bruised leg.

“Baby, I’m sorry. But we can’t let Ruth find out about us.”

Only then did he seem to realize the shamelessness of what they’d done—right here in my hospital ward.

He scooped Cassie into his arms and quickly left.

But what difference did it make now?

He had already shattered the love I had given him without reservation since I was sixteen.

Later, I received an email—a video sent by Cassie.

“Ugly pig, your husband is truly passionate.”

They were entangled again in the backseat of a car, not even bothering to fix their clothes.

I saved the file.

Evidence, straight from her. A woman parading as noble and refined, but in truth, a shameless thief of someone else’s fiancé.

I’m sure others will be very interested.

The next morning, Nate called.

“Sorry, Ruth. I just wrapped up some work. I’ll come back to the hospital to be with you.”

I replied coolly, “No need. I think Miss Cassie needs you more now.”

My distant tone made him pause.

“What are you saying, baby? I don’t understand.”

I took a breath and asked calmly, “Nate, where is our child?”

“She… she was born premature and didn’t survive. I’ve already had her buried. I’ll take you to visit the grave tomorrow, okay?”

A grave? Then what was that tiny lifeless body I pulled from a stray dog’s mouth?

Grief choked me, and I couldn’t speak.

Nate sensed something was wrong.

“When you’re discharged, let’s have the perfect wedding, okay?”

I forced the words through clenched teeth.

“Okay.”

But in my heart, I made a vow too.

There won’t be a wedding.

Only your funeral, Nate.

He soon arrived, holding a thermos, and knelt before me.

“I learned to make this chicken soup from an American chef. It’s great for recovery. Please, have some.”

I stared at the golden broth, my heart was cold.

Outside, I overheard nurses chatting as they passed:

“Miss Cassie is so lucky. Her boyfriend’s absolutely devoted.”

“Right? He even flew a chef just to help with her anemia. Stayed up all night making her soup!”

So this bowl—was just a test batch for Cassie.

I pushed the spoon away.

“I can’t drink it.”

Big tears rolled into the soup. Guilt shadowed Nate’s face.

He threw the bowl aside and slapped himself, hard.

“I regret it! I should’ve let you deliver the baby. Even if she was sick, I’m her father—I should’ve raised her!”

But it’s too late now.

And worse…

“Do you truly mean that, Nate?”

He froze when he saw my red, tear-filled eyes.

At that moment, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, then answered angrily:

“I told you—I’m with Ruth! Can’t you handle such a small issue yourselves, useless bunch!”

Hanging up, he turned to me.

“Something’s wrong at the company. I need to go.”

I grabbed his wrist, pleading,

“Please don’t go. Stay here. I… I need you.”

He averted his eyes.

“I’m sorry, love. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He slowly pried my fingers off, one by one.

As he rushed out, I stared after him, filled with despair. Then I laughed quietly.

He thought I didn’t see the caller ID.

But I did. It was Cassie.

His choice was clear.

She always came first, didn’t she?

I hope you never regret this.

Because soon… you’ll understand.

I picked up the phone and dialed.

“We need to talk.”

###5

As expected, not long after Nate left, Cassie sent me another display of their affection.

This time, it was a video of him, Nate, busy in the kitchen—his back to the camera.

“He really loves me,” she cooed. “The moment I told him I was anemic, he dropped everything to take care of me.”

In all our years together, he hadn’t so much as toasted a slice of bread for me.

My fingers trembled as I furiously typed back, biting my lip to steady the rage.

“But he still doesn’t dare make your relationship public, does he? He only dares to sneak around with you.”

“Cassie Clay, you’ll always be his mistress—a sewer rat who doesn’t belong in daylight. Still think you’re the Detroit princess? No. You’re just a prostitute selling herself to survive.”

I turned off the phone and shoved it under the pillow, my chest heaving.

Days passed without any sign of Nate.

“I’m really sorry, Ruth. I didn’t expect things to spiral like this.”

“It’s fine. Do whatever you want.”

I kept my tone sweet and composed. He felt the chill behind it.

With guilt thick in his throat, he promised,

“I’ll take you to see the child as soon as I can manage it.”

“I said it doesn’t matter, Nate.”

Then I hung up.

His promises meant nothing. They were as cheap as the lies that dressed them.

Nate stared blankly at the busy tone.

Four days later, the bridal shop called. My wedding dress was ready.

My mother had commissioned it before she passed, hoping I’d be the most beautiful bride.

There was no wedding anymore, but the dress was a memory I still wanted to reclaim.

But when I stepped into the shop, there she was—Cassie—wearing my custom-made gown.

She twirled in front of the mirror, smiling sweetly, her eyes taunting.

“Your fat body doesn’t fit in this anymore, so I kindly helped you try it on. Even the groom helped—many times. You should thank me.”

My vision blurred red. I lunged and grabbed at the gown she’d defiled.

“Even if it’s trash, it’s mine! Cassie Clay, whether it’s a man or a dress, I’d rather throw them in the gutter than give them to you!”

Out of nowhere, she screamed and snatched a pair of scissors from the counter, slashing the dress—then her own palm.

“Ah!” she howled. “I was just helping her try on a dress, and she stabbed me!”

Before I could react, Nate stormed in.

He saw the shallow cut on Cassie’s hand and exploded.

“Are you insane? It’s just a dress! What’s wrong with Cassie wearing it? Did you want her dead? How vicious can you be!”

Vicious?

I stared at the shredded gown in disbelief, my breath ragged.

“This dress… was made by my mother!” I shouted, voice cracking.

“When you were just a homeless thug in Detroit, my mother took you in—raised you like a son! Without her, you’d have died in the gutter. She gave you everything you have. And this is how you repay her?”

I remembered back then—Cassie was a pampered heiress. One time, Nate accidentally stepped on her shoe. She had her bodyguards beat him.

But he never resented her. Instead, he said, almost dreamily, that he’d sleep with her one day.

I always thought he was joking.

I didn’t realize that conquering her had been his dream all along.

The anger made me dizzy. Nate reached for my hand, panicked.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I just… you went too far with Cassie.”

I shoved him away, voice like a blade.

“Right. I went too far. Go take your precious lady to the hospital. Hurry—her wound might miraculously heal if you’re fast.”

A heavy wave of disappointment crushed my chest.

He hesitated, but finally turned away.

Clutching Cassie’s hand, he left without another word.

“Yes. You’ll always choose her,” I whispered, hollow.

I knew this ending already. I’d accepted it.

So why does it still hurt so much?

I bit my lip, refusing to cry. But once his shadow disappeared, I couldn’t hold back.

The tears came all at once, along with a sharp pain in my stomach.

I looked down. The surgical wound on my abdomen had split open again.

I staggered out, breathing unevenly. I tripped over a stone, and just as I braced to hit the ground—

A strong arm wrapped around my waist.

He pulled me into a firm chest, steady and warm.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said softly.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk? I’m here.”