The one who's truly being deceived... is me. A notification popped up on my phone, reminding me of my surgery scheduled for the afternoon. Gerrald glanced at it, his brows knitting together in confusion.

"Honey, what surgery are you having?"

I quickly slipped my phone into my bag and smiled. "Nothing, just some spam. I understand everything you said—I understand you."

Satisfied, Gerrald kissed my forehead. "That's why you're my Honey. You always understand. I'll go entertain the guests first and then I'll come home to keep you company tonight."

Silently, I followed him, my heart weighed down with unease. But instead of heading back to the grand hall, he took a detour to the guest rooms upstairs.

Through the slightly open door, I saw her—Lydia—clad in nothing but a flimsy lace negligee. Her voice dripped with sweetness as she called out to him.

"Gerrald, why did you take so long? I've been waiting forever."

Gerrald hesitated, his expression flickering with uncertainty. "I think Jenny isn’t feeling well. Maybe we should skip tonight? There will be plenty of time after the wedding. I should go check on her first—"

Lydia hooked her arms around his neck, pressing her body provocatively against him. "Gerrald, are you really going to leave me all alone? It's been so long since we last did this... haven't you missed me?"

Her fingers trailed along his jaw as she whispered, "We're getting married soon. I want to give you a child. Tonight, you don’t have to hold back. As many times as you want... okay?"

A flicker of desire clouded Gerrald's eyes and in the next second, all hesitation vanished. He pushed her onto the bed, his restraint crumbling into nothingness.

The sounds that followed twisted like a knife into my heart. I couldn’t watch anymore. I turned and fled, stumbling blindly out of the hotel. The moment I hit the cold night air, nausea crashed over me in violent waves, forcing me to crouch down, heaving dry sobs into the pavement.

A sudden chill struck me. A bottle of ice-cold wine had been dumped over my head. Lydia stood above me, casually dropping the empty bottle, her lips curling in mockery.

"Jenny, are you some kind of breeding pig? Five stillborn children and you're still getting pregnant?" She crossed her arms, tilting her head. "Don't think I wouldn’t notice. That was pregnancy sickness just now. I study medicine—I know."

I stiffened.

She sneered, her eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "You actually think being pregnant again will make Gerrald love you? Don’t be stupid. As long as I say the word, he’ll take your child from you just like the last five. After all, I’m the one he truly loves."

Lydia pulled out her phone and held it up in front of my face. My breath hitched. Images of my dead children filled the screen.

"Beautiful, aren’t they? And guess what? This one in your belly? It’ll end up just like the others."

My vision blurred with rage. Without thinking, I raised my hand to strike her—but she was faster. She grabbed a shard from the broken bottle and slashed her own palm.

Blood gushed from the wound as she let out a piercing scream. Before I could react, Gerrald came running toward us. The moment he saw Lydia's bleeding hand, his face darkened with fury. He shoved me aside and pulled her into his arms.

"Jenny, what the hell are you doing?!" he roared.

Lydia clung to him, sobbing pitifully. "Gerrald, I just wanted to be nice and invite her in for a drink. But she—she said I stole you from her. Then she attacked me! Maybe... maybe she’s not stable after losing so many children..."

Gerrald turned to me, his gaze burning with cold disgust.

"I was the one who chose to marry Lydia. If you have a problem with that, come at me. What right do you have to take it out on her?"

I opened my mouth, desperate to explain, but his next words froze me in place.

"Lydia is a doctor. Her hands are meant to save lives. And you dared to harm them? How vicious can you be, Jenny?"

His voice was sharp, filled with pure contempt.

"With a mother as cruel as you, it’s no wonder every child you gave birth to was stillborn. That’s just your karma."

I looked at him in disbelief, as if seeing him for the first time. My voice cracked as I pointed at Lydia, my vision blurred with tears.

"My retribution? The ones who truly deserve retribution are you!"

I took a shaky breath, my entire body trembling with rage. "Gerrald, do you dare to tell me why my children—who were perfectly healthy inside me—were all born stillborn? And what did you do with their bodies?!"

Gerrald's brows furrowed, a flicker of impatience in his expression. "Your health was always weak, Jenny. The children suffered because of that. Their deaths were inevitable—you just didn't realize it when you were pregnant. I buried them properly. Why are you bringing up these meaningless things now? Apologize to Lydia."

I stared at him, my heart hollow, my hands numb at my sides.

I knew. Deep down, I knew this was the answer I would get. But why did it still hurt so much?

My fingers clenched into fists before loosening. Slowly, I bent down and picked up a shard of broken glass from the ground. Without hesitation, I brought it to my left hand and, in one swift motion, sliced off my pinky finger.

Blood spurted out instantly, splattering onto the cold marble floor.

"Jenny!" Gerrald's voice was sharp with alarm.

I lifted my gaze to meet his, my lips curling into a bitter smile.

"Gerrald, you’re right. Ms. Maron’s hands are meant to shine in the operating room. Since her palm is wounded, I’ll compensate her with a finger. Is that enough?"

The crimson pooled at my feet as I turned away, stepping over the blood like it meant nothing. Gerrald hesitated. For a moment, just a moment, I thought he might reach for me. But then Lydia whimpered and clung to him, her tear-filled voice breaking through the silence.

"Gerrald, my hand hurts..."

His hesitation vanished. He let me go.

***

As I sat in the hospital waiting room, my phone vibrated with an incoming call from Gerrald.

"Honey, how's your hand? Don’t worry, Lydia’s hand is fine. It's my fault today. I know you've always blamed yourself for the children's deaths and I shouldn’t have said those things."

I remained silent, my fingers tightening around my phone.

"But I promised my mother that I’d go through with the wedding. It's just for show, but if I delay the date, she’ll be upset. She’s getting old and her health isn’t the best. I’m worried..."

"I'm fine," I cut him off, my voice calm, detached. "Take good care of her. Don't let your mom worry."

Gerrald chuckled softly. "Silly Honey, what do you mean, 'your mom'? She's our mom. Don't worry, one day I'll make her recognize you."

There was a warmth in his voice, as if he truly believed his own words.

"The day after tomorrow, I'm leaving the country. Tomorrow, I'll come home and bring you something delicious. Be good, alright?"

I didn’t answer. Instead, my gaze drifted to the open ward door beside me, where a television was broadcasting the latest news.

[Breaking News: President of the Raymond Group pampers his wife to the extreme! Despite her minor hand injury, he called in top medical experts from across the country overnight. To cheer her up, he spent 300 million yuan at an auction on a jade beauty roller once used by a noble consort in the imperial court.]

The camera cut to Lydia, smiling coyly as reporters swarmed her. The headline flashed bold across the screen: The Most Adored Woman in the World.

I turned to the doctor standing beside me. "I'm ready." Even with the anesthesia, I felt the instruments scraping away at my insides, hollowing me out once more. I had lost another child. When I left the hospital, my arms wrapped around my empty stomach, tears slipped down my cheeks, silent and endless.

Baby, I'm sorry. In your next life, don’t choose me as your mother.

***

The next day, Gerrald didn’t come home. Instead, he called.

"Jenny, I’m sorry. I really wanted to be with you today, but my mom suddenly wasn’t feeling well. As her son, I have to be here for her."

I glanced down at my phone, my lips curling into a humorless smile. A minute earlier, Lydia had just posted an update on her social media.

In the photo, she sat on a plush hotel bed, draped in a silk bathrobe. Gerrald was kneeling at her feet, bare-chested, his hands gently massaging her ankles, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips still parted, as if she had just been thoroughly ravished.

Clothes were strewn across the floor, a telltale sign of the passion they had shared moments before. I closed my phone and took a deep breath. Without hesitation, I gathered everything I owned and set it ablaze. The fire roared, devouring every trace of my existence in his life. The past seven years, the love I had given him, the pain I had endured—it all turned to ash before my eyes.

***

At dawn, I arrived at the airport. Just as I was about to board my flight, my phone buzzed with a new message from Gerrald.

"Jenny, are you up yet? Don't forget to eat breakfast. I really can't bear to be away from you—I miss you so much."

"Be good and wait for your husband at home. When I come back, I'll bring you a gift. I miss your lips. If only I could kiss them now."

I lifted my eyes and looked across the terminal. Not far from me, Gerrald was holding Lydia in his arms, kissing her deeply, even as his fingers moved effortlessly over his phone screen to send me that message.

How impressive. It must have been exhausting for him to keep up such an act. I didn't bother replying. Instead, I gathered the photos and chat records stored on my phone, compiled them into a single file and scheduled them to be sent to Gerrald’s work email. Then, without hesitation, I turned and walked towards the boarding gate—one that led to a different destination from his.

***

Meanwhile, Gerrald arrived at the lavish wedding banquet venue abroad. His mother and a hall full of esteemed guests were already gathered, eagerly awaiting the ceremony.

Frowning, he checked his phone again. Still no reply from me. A strange unease settled in his chest.

After a moment of thought, he called his assistant.

"Book a ticket for Madam to come here tomorrow. She must be feeling lonely at home without me."

It was a calculated move. By the time she arrived, the wedding would be over. Even if she wanted to cause a scene, it would be too late.

Holding Lydia’s hand, he stepped onto the stage just as his assistant came rushing forward, face pale, phone clutched tightly in his trembling hands.

"Mr. Raymond! There's a serious problem! Madam—she found out everything about the children!"

Gerrald’s breath caught. "What are you talking about?"

The assistant gulped before continuing, his voice shaking. "A few hours ago, she boarded a flight to another country. And just now, we received confirmation—the plane crashed."