"Darrell always says he doesn’t even have a close friend around him. I agreed to Mr. Thornton’s invitation to join the company to repay the kindness your family showed me back then."

I let out a cold laugh.

"Kindness? Is this how you repay my family? Are you planning to take over this family in a few years?"

Holly’s eyes reddened slightly. She bit her lip, then raised her hand and slapped herself twice.

Clear red marks slowly appeared on her cheeks as tears streamed down her face.

"Alex, do you feel better now?" she said, her voice full of grievance.

Darrell walked in after hearing the commotion. The moment he saw the scene, his face darkened.

When he turned to look at me, his gaze was icy.

"Alex! It’s my fault for not telling you about this earlier, but that doesn’t give you the right to take out your anger on Holly! She’s your former student—the one you sponsored. You were willing to let her die before, and now you’re trying every possible way to stop her from joining the company. How hypocritical can you be?"

He paused, his tone growing even colder.

"If you won’t help Holly, then I will! I’m the one who decided to turn the baby room into a bedroom. It’s been sitting idle for so long, and since you can’t have kids, it’s better to let Holly use it."

My hand instinctively moved to my abdomen. I hesitated, torn about whether to tell him I was pregnant.

"In fact, I already have two..." I began.

But Darrell impatiently waved his hand, cutting me off before I could finish.

"You’re just a housewife who has no idea how hard I work outside. Only Holly understands me—she’s the one who stays with me, working overtime in the middle of the night."

He turned to Holly with a gentle gaze, his tenderness so overwhelming it could drown anyone.

"From now on, if there’s a share of mine in this house, there will be a share of hers too!"

Then he added arrogantly, as if addressing a nanny,

"Alex, go put two layers of sheets on her bed. Her body’s delicate, and she won’t sleep well on anything too hard. Also, I’ll take her out for dinner—you can do whatever you want."

With his arm around Holly’s shoulders, he strode out of the room, leaving me behind.

As I watched his resolute back disappear, a sharp pain stabbed at my chest.

My mind flashed to the chat records I’d stumbled upon on his phone a few days ago.

The man who once wanted the whole world to know how deeply he loved me had long since changed.

When he claimed to be working late, he was actually experimenting with "new positions" with Holly in the office.

Afterward, she shamelessly messaged him, "Brother, I thought of something even more exciting. Let’s try it on the office chair next time~"

And when he told me he had a last-minute meeting and couldn’t accompany me to the hospital for my check-up, he was in a five-star hotel, going eight rounds with her.

Holly had even teased him with a smirk,

"Brother, who feels better—me or your wife?"

Darrell sneered with disdain, "Her tongue tastes bitter from all the medicine she takes, and I have to hold my breath every time I kiss her. How could she ever compare to someone as fragrant and soft as you?"

As I scrolled through the pictures one by one, my heart felt like it was caught in the freezing chill of December.

My limbs trembled uncontrollably, as if gripped by the cold.

I had followed him to remote Brooklyn, starting from nothing. Together, we built our success, and everyone admired our love, calling it stronger than gold.

"Mrs. Thornton, I remember hearing about your love story back in college," someone once said to me.

"Darrell won every scholarship that semester just to buy you a necklace, and he worked three part-time jobs after class. I heard you still wear that necklace—it’s such a beautiful two-way street of love."

"Yes, Mr. Thornton adores you so much," another had added.

"After you got married, he couldn’t bear to see you overworked, so he didn’t let you work a single day. I even remember once asking him to grab dinner, but he turned me down because he said his wife had cooked, and he was in a hurry to get home."

"It would be perfect if you two had a child someday!"

I don’t know when it started.

The proud boy with fiery eyes who once knelt in front of his classmates and vowed to always be worthy of me.

That boy has now been consumed by the desires of society.

Yet, I still clung to a foolish fantasy.

If he knew we had a child, would things have turned out differently?

But reality hit me hard, shattering my delusions.

He wouldn’t even let me finish a sentence.

How could I expect him to devote a lifetime to caring for a child?

The one unchanging truth about people is that their hearts will always change.

I stood there, stunned, grappling with my emotions for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, I exhaled a shaky breath, releasing the weight pressing on my chest.

I picked up my phone and made an appointment for an abortion the next day.

At around eleven that evening, Darrell returned with Holly.

I was already in bed, trying to sleep, but their muffled voices disturbed me.

"Brother, I ate too much earlier, and now I have a little belly," Holly giggled.

"Holly looks perfect no matter what," Darrell replied, his voice dripping with affection.

"Then touch here again..."

"And... lower."

Darrell never came back to our room that night.

I lay awake, tormented, as a relentless downpour seemed to echo in my heart.

The next morning, I rose early.

Just in time to catch Darrell stepping out of Holly’s room.

I looked at him calmly, holding the hot soy milk I had just prepared.

Darrell’s eyes flickered with panic as he hastily buttoned his collar.

He walked toward me, his movements stiff, and rubbed my ear in a gesture meant to be affectionate.

"Baby, why are you up so early today? Were you boiling medicine? Let me help you," he said, his warm breath brushing against my ear.

I shook my head, stepping subtly out of his reach.

"I went to bed early yesterday. Go have breakfast," I replied evenly.

"Is that so? I saw you were already asleep last night, so I didn’t want to disturb you and slept in the study," he said quickly, his tone forced.

"I just went to check on Holly this morning. I was worried she might not be used to staying here. She’s your sponsored student, after all. I feel a certain responsibility for her—it’s only reasonable."

Darrell touched his nose, a telltale sign he was lying. His eyes betrayed his discomfort, but I didn’t press further.

I was tired of this charade. All I wanted now was to end it.

After breakfast, I planned to go to the hospital.

Darrell helped me put on my coat with practiced ease.

I paused, momentarily caught off guard.

"It’s a bit cold. Wear another layer—your hands are always freezing," he said, his voice soft.

"Are you going to the hospital for a check-up today? Let me take you," he offered.

The coat’s warmth wrapped around me, but my heart ached with bitterness.

Before heading out, Darrell always checked the weather in advance and carefully chose clothes for me.

From coordinating colors to matching styles, he even tailored outfits according to the tone of different brands.

Whenever I asked why he went to such lengths, Darrell would answer with unwavering seriousness, "My wife must always be beautiful."

Holly’s voice from the bedroom snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Mr. Thornton! How does this outfit look on me?"

Darrell’s expression darkened briefly, but he quickly masked his irritation.

Adopting a softer tone, he stretched out his hand and gently pushed me toward the door.

"You go ahead. I just remembered I have a morning meeting at the company, so I need to leave early," he said briskly.

"Call me if you need anything."

I watched his back as he hurried away, the bitterness in my chest threatening to spill over.

It had all started two months after Holly joined his company.

Darrell became busier and less available.

He no longer made time to accompany me to the hospital for those endless examinations.

Instead, he spent his free moments visiting trendy dessert shops with his secretary and watching fireworks.

Yet, he never forgot to take a sip of the bitter herbal medicine I had painstakingly prepared for him—until now.

He once promised to share every joy and sorrow with me.

Now, he wouldn’t even drink the bitter medicine that left his tongue numb.

But I always saw him eating cake in the pictures Holly posted in her circle of friends.

I was the only one who made endless trips to the hospital—enduring examinations, filling prescriptions, and boiling medicinal brews.

I drank it all in one breath, as if the child was an answer to my prayers.

I took a taxi to the hospital, touching my belly and bowing my head in silent prayer.

My child.

I’m sorry that your father doesn’t look forward to your birth.

Maybe you are more suited to be reborn into a happy, complete family.

After going through the tedious process, I trembled and signed my name on the surgery confirmation form.

The result of three years of hope and prayers was ended by my own hands today.

Walking out of the operating room, I felt dizzy and weak.

I sent Darrell a message, asking him to pick me up.

In the chat window, a photo popped up—Holly in revealing lace underwear.

From the angle, it was clear the picture was taken by someone standing directly in front of her.

I clicked on it, but it was withdrawn almost immediately.

I turned, and her sweet, delicate voice broke the silence behind me.

"I’m so sorry. I sent it to the wrong person," Holly said, her tone dripping with mock innocence.

"Are you asking Mr. Thornton to pick you up from the hospital? Sorry, but he’s busy with business matters right now and may not be able to come."

"Who are you to decide for him? Are you his secretary or his keeper?"

Before she could say anything else, I turned off the phone, my chest tightening with heaviness.

…Even his secretary had control over his phone now.

I remembered the last time he had quickly turned his screen away when I glanced at it.

Later, he explained he was waiting for updates from an important client and couldn’t risk distractions.

But I had already seen the truth—there was only one name in his chat box: Holly.

Darrell’s Porsche eventually pulled up, the window rolling down to reveal his indifferent expression.

"What’s so urgent that I had to come here myself? Can’t you just take a taxi back? And seriously, be more polite when you talk to Holly. Since when did you develop such a bad temper?"

His words cut deeply, but I remained silent.

I opened the car door on my own, feeling the faint ache in my abdomen from the operation.

Without a word, I reached for a bottle of water, but my hand froze.

There were items in the car that didn’t belong to me—a strawberry-shaped hairpin, scattered food crumbs, and… a woman’s thong tucked discreetly under the seat.

Darrell had always prided himself on being a clean freak, never allowing food in the car.

Yet here was undeniable evidence of someone else’s presence.

Once, when I had dysmenorrhea, I craved a hot milk tea to ease the pain, but it wasn’t allowed.

Now, not only is food allowed in the car—

Even...

Principles can be bent, but only for someone else, never for me.

The pit in my stomach deepened, a wave of nausea rising as my emotions hit rock bottom.

"What’s wrong now? Still sulking? Do you even realize how much business I lost because of your call?"

Darrell frowned, his tone carrying a hint of reprimand.

"Forget it, I won’t argue with you. It hasn’t been easy for you with all these hospital visits lately. As for the child, don’t stress about it. It’s not urgent."

I nodded mechanically, my mind blank. I just wanted to get out of the car, away from him, and return to the quiet of my room.

At home, I took a long, hot bath, hoping to wash away the weight pressing on my chest, and then tried to sleep.

Darrell returned at noon.

He held a bouquet of radiant foxtail lilies in full bloom, his features softened by tenderness.

Kneeling beside my bed, he gently brushed the stray hair from my face.

"Baby, I saw these lilies you love at the flower shop and thought of you."

I froze for a moment, startled by the gesture. But before I could speak, Darrell continued.

"I’ve been thinking a lot about Holly these past couple of days. She’s from a poor family, but she’s incredibly capable at work and takes great care of me. I can’t stand to see such talent wasted."