My husband, Jaxon Murray, was a renowned medical expert and owned a big company. He was participating in a clinical drug trial when someone tampered with his medication. Under the influence, he ended up entangled with an intern—ninety-nine times, right there on the lab table.

When he regained clarity, he rushed home, locked himself in the bathroom, and submerged himself in the tub without food or water as he waited for me to return from work.

"Lauren," he said, "my medication was switched during the trial. I made a terrible mistake. But I paid her off and had her dismissed. She'll never appear before me again."

I wept miserably, clutching my belly that had once again failed to carry life. And in the end, I chose to forgive him.

Several months later, he crashed into a guardrail while answering a phone call, causing me to miscarry. The injury left me unable to conceive for life. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice choked with remorse.

"Darling, I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry… We don't need children. We have each other, isn't that enough?"

One day, I went to bring him lunch, only to find him in the next hospital room, cradling and feeding the woman he swore he'd never see again.

"She's too weak to eat by herself," he said. "She has early-stage stomach cancer. There's no one else to take care of her… she's all alone."

I chose to believe him. Again.

Until one day, a pair of twins appeared in our home. Sophie Dixon knelt before me, wearing the postpartum gown he had once lovingly picked out for me, clutching my hand with tears streaming down her face.

"It's all my fault. Please don't blame Jaxon. If you say the word, I'll leave with the children immediately."

Jaxon grabbed my other hand, desperation thick in his voice.

"Lauren, you've always been the kindest person I know. The children are still so young. How could Sophie possibly raise them alone? You wouldn't be that cruel… would you?"

I looked down at the hands gripping mine from both sides, and suddenly, I laughed.

"Jaxon, let's get a divorce. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

I pushed open the front door, and the groceries in my hand tumbled to the floor. I stood frozen in place.

A birthday candle flickered as everyone sang "Happy Birthday." The table was piled with an extravagant spread—dishes I didn't even recognize.

Seated around the table were my mother-in-law, my husband, Sophie Dixon, and a pair of twins nestled in their arms. The five of them bowed their heads in unison, making a birthday wish, smiles of contentment on their faces.

There wasn't even a place setting for me.

In that moment, I felt like a stranger who had barged into someone else's home.

It was a long time before my husband, Jaxon Murray, finally looked up and saw me. His fork paused briefly in midair, then, as if nothing had happened, he picked up a piece of meat and gently fed it to Sophie.

Sophie accepted it shyly, though her eyes flicked toward me with calculated indifference.

My mother-in-law acted as if she'd just noticed me standing by the door. Her gaze was cold and sharp.

"You're back? Done with your errands?"

I clenched my teeth and slowly stepped toward the table. "Mom, I took time off early today. Happy birthday."

Jaxon set down his fork and offered a casual explanation. "Mom decided to celebrate early. We didn't have time to let you know."

'Didn't have time to let me know? It only takes a phone call or a single message. But you didn't even bother with that,' I thought bitterly.

I placed a bracelet box on the table and forced a smile. "Happy birthday," I said.

My mother-in-law spared it a glance, didn't even open the lid, and went right back to cooing at the child in her arms.

After dinner, Sophie quickly stood and slipped her arm through my mother-in-law's.

"Mom, let me help you clean up the kitchen."

Then she turned to me with a polite smile. "Lauren, would you mind watching the baby for a bit?"

Jaxon, holding the other child, followed them into the kitchen. Laughter and cheerful chatter echoed from within as they played with the baby.

A dull ache pierced my chest. I lowered my head quickly, blinking back the sting in my eyes, and gently patted the baby in my arms.

Suddenly, the child began wailing violently, his tiny face flushed bright red.

Everyone came rushing out of the kitchen at once, only to find a rash spreading rapidly across the baby's skin.

Without a word, Sophie shoved me to the ground and snatched the child from my arms, her voice breaking as she sobbed.

"I know you don't like me, but how could you use scented powder to harm a baby?!"

My mother-in-law snapped her head up and glared at me. "Lauren! How dare you harm the baby!"

I stood there, stunned. "I didn't even wear makeup today, and not even a drop of perfume!"

But before I could say another word, a loud, stinging smack landed across my face. Five bright red marks bloomed across my cheek.

My mother-in-law stared at me with venom in her eyes. "Lauren, you're vicious enough to take your anger out on a child?!"

I clutched my face as tears streamed down. "I didn't do it! I'm a makeup artist. I know exactly what causes allergic reactions. I would never—"

I turned to Jaxon, hoping he would speak up for me. But he just stood there, brooding, not even glancing my way.

He took the baby into his arms, gently soothing him. "Enough arguing. Let's go to the hospital and get the child checked out first."

Before leaving, he shot me a glance—one filled with unmistakable disappointment and blame.

In that moment, a bitter chill spread through every bone in my body.

I touched my still-burning cheek and suddenly caught a faint scent of powder on my sleeve.

It was Sophie.

She had deliberately brushed against me when handing me the baby, just enough to plant the evidence.

Maybe this home had never really been mine.

…

When they returned home from the hospital, my mother-in-law slammed the door open and pointed a trembling finger at my face.

"Lauren, get out of this house!"

I bit down hard on my lip, forcing back the tears.

Jaxon gently pulled at her arm, but still avoided looking at me. "Mom, please calm down. Let's talk this through."

Then he turned to me. For the first time in a long while, he truly looked at me. The eyes I once loved so deeply now brimmed with nothing but fatigue.

"Lauren… maybe it's best if you resign. I can support you. But if you insist on working, then move into the other apartment for now. Let's wait until the child recovers to discuss everything else..."

I stared at the man before me. I felt the taste of blood on my lips from biting down too hard. My tears finally broke free, pouring down like a flood.

I turned, opened the wardrobe, and pulled out my suitcase.

Seven years of marriage, yet everything I owned fit into a single case.

Sophie leaned lazily against the doorway, a satisfied curve in her brow as she watched my humiliation.

"Lauren, you should just leave on your own. Don't make Jaxon choose. It's hard on him."

I didn't bother responding, but a memory from three years ago surfaced in my mind.

Jaxon had burst out of the bathroom, collapsed at my feet, and clung to me in anguish. "Lauren, at the drug trial, I was given the wrong medication. I made a terrible mistake. But I paid her to keep quiet. I had her fired. She won't ever come near me again."

I'd been crying, cradling my belly after yet another failed IVF attempt. In the end, I forgave him.

The very next day, I'd even helped him clean up the lab, only to find ninety-nine used condoms scattered across the floor.

Several months later, we were out shopping for maternity supplies when he took a call. His expression turned frantic, and he crashed the car into a guardrail.

The baby I was pregnant with then… was gone forever. The doctors said the damage to my uterus was irreparable. I would never be a mother.

I remembered Jaxon weeping into the curve of my neck, trying to comfort me. "Darling, I'm so sorry. I don't deserve you. Please don't cry. We don't have to have children. We have each other. That's all we need, right?"

Every time he came to visit me in the hospital, he brought two lunchboxes—one large, one small.

I always thought the big one was his, and the small one was mine.

Until one day. It was the first day I could finally get out of bed on my own. I grabbed my empty lunchbox, thinking I'd surprise him.

The door to the next hospital room was half open. I saw Jaxon sitting inside, holding the woman he once promised would never appear in his life again.

A large lunchbox sat in front of them. He was feeding her, one bite for him, one bite for her. The two of them were eating together happily.

"Lauren," Jaxon had said, hurriedly grabbing my hand, "she's in too much pain to eat by herself. It's early-stage stomach cancer. There's no one else to take care of her...

"You've always been so kind. Nothing is going on between us. I'm just helping her, that's all. You're the only one I care about."

My hand moved unconsciously to the incision from my C-section. And once again, I chose to believe him.

…

I didn't arrive at my new lodging until midnight. My stomach was empty, but I couldn't bring myself to eat. The sourness rising in my chest made me nauseous.

Just then, my phone lit up with a message from Jaxon.

"The child went into anaphylactic shock. It was serious. The doctor said he was lucky we brought him in quickly. Mom says you should focus on your own matters for now. You don't have to come to the baby's one-month celebration."

I sat in that bare, silent room, watching the night fade into morning.

Mabye...it was time to leave.

…

Christmas was approaching. My mother-in-law asked me to come home and help.

As soon as I stepped through the door, I saw Sophie in the living room, giving instructions to the housekeeper. Anyone walking in would've assumed she was the mistress of the house.

Jaxon looked surprised to see me—half pleased, half embarrassed.

After dinner, Sophie suddenly came running downstairs, shrieking, her clothes disheveled, tears streaking down her face. In her hand, she clutched a tiny surveillance camera.

"Jaxon! Mom! Look! Lauren installed a camera in my bedroom! She's been secretly filming me!" she shouted, trembling as she pointed at me.

Her phone rang right then. She tapped a link. The screen lit up with private photos of her taken from sharp, invasive angles. The title was vulgar. The images were being sold online for fifty cents apiece.

"She didn't just film me," Sophie sobbed, struggling to breathe. "She sold the photos online for fifty cents per picture!"

My mother-in-law was shaking with rage, her finger pointed straight at me.

"You vile woman! How did our family end up with someone as shameless and malicious as you?!"

"It wasn't me! I never—"

"In this house, only a few people have access to that bedroom. If it wasn't you, then who? Me? My mom?" Jaxon's roar cut me off. "Or do you think she did it to herself? You're disgusting. If you needed money so badly, you could've just asked me."

Without warning, my mother-in-law grabbed a nearby stick and brought it down on me. "I'll beat you to death, you wretched creature! You've disgraced our entire family!"

Sophie clung tightly to my arms, holding me in place so I couldn't dodge. The stick landed again and again. My head was soon wet with blood, but Jaxon stayed beside Sophie, softly coaxing her.

Blood blurred my vision. Tears blurred the rest.

And then, memory rushed in.

I remembered leaving the hospital, thinking maybe life could return to normal. I thought he still loved me…until Sophie appeared, wearing the postpartum gown he once selected for me. She knelt before me, held my hands, and pleaded.

"It's all my fault. Don't blame Jaxon. Just say the word and I'll leave with my babies right now."

Jaxon had knelt beside her, holding my other hand, his voice pleading too.

"Lauren, you've always been the kindest. The babies are so small. How can she take care of them alone? You wouldn't be that cruel, would you?"

I thought of their hands, one on each side, pressing down on me that day. I looked down at my arms now, pinned just the same.

And suddenly, I laughed.