I had been married to Dewitt Larson for three years when I found out I was pregnant.

But he didn't love me. The night I lost the baby, I called him.

"Dewitt, who is it so late?"

A woman's sweet voice answered from the other end of the line.

The call was quickly cut off. I clenched the report in my hand until it crumpled into a worthless ball of paper.

I collapsed onto the hospital floor, my back against the cold wall.

After what felt like a long time, Dewitt yanked me up from the ground. His body reeked of another woman's perfume.

"Allyson, how dare you?"

His fist grazed my ear and slammed into the wall, and his hand immediately covered in blood.

Tears streamed down my face.

"Dewitt, let's get a divorce."

***

I lost the child I had with Dewitt.

The procedure was quick. By the time I woke up, that little life was gone.

I dialed Dewitt's number.

I thought for a long time, unsure of how to start. He said nothing either, and the silence on the line became suffocating. Then, a woman's sweet, coquettish voice broke the quiet from his side.

"Dewitt, focus on me."

We had been married for three years. This wasn't the first time I had encountered something like this.

But this time, I couldn't stop the tears that slipped down my cheeks.

The call was disconnected. Dewitt hadn't said a single word to me.

I knew he did it on purpose.

I gripped the report tightly until it turned into a crumpled mess.

Suddenly, I felt drained.

The hospital wall was cold, reminding me of the instruments that had invaded my body.

I sat slumped against the wall for a long time. The sky gradually darkened, and the hallway grew quieter and quieter.

A pair of gleaming black leather shoes stopped in front of me.

"Allyson, did you get rid of our baby?"

Dewitt grabbed my collar, staring at me with fury in his eyes as if he wanted to kill me with just his glare.

I didn't know how to respond. I just quietly looked at the man I had loved for so many years.

"Speak!

"Say something!"

His fist grazed my cheek and smashed into the wall, the scent of blood instantly filling the air.

I didn't get rid of the baby because of him but because of myself.

My mother passed away a few years ago due to a hereditary disease.

A few days ago, I was diagnosed with it too. I knew I didn't have much time left.

The doctor said the disease had a fifty percent chance of being passed on.

The image of my mother in her final moments was seared into my mind, terrifyingly vivid.

She had suffered terribly when the disease took hold, so I didn't want to take the risk. I was afraid my child would suffer the same fate.

Seeing me still silent, Dewitt grabbed the back of my head and kissed me harshly.

In fact, it wasn't a kiss. Kisses were filled with love, yet this was more like a savage bite, full of anger and hatred.

Tears slipped into my mouth, mixing with the taste of blood, bitter and salty.

His neck was covered in hickeys, painfully obvious.

I broke free from his grasp and slapped him hard. The crisp sound echoed through the quiet hallway.

He turned his head from the force. My palm tingled with numbness.

"Dewitt, let's get a divorce."

Dewitt chuckled softly, a clear note of disdain in his voice.

"Divorce?"

He repeated my words as if they were the punchline of a cruel joke.

"Allyson, where did you get the guts, huh?"

His large hand gently stroked my cheek, wiping away my tears with an almost tender touch.

Then, he leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"The child is gone, and you should have joined him in the grave. But killing you would be too easy. I want you to live in hell."

I thought to myself, "He's going to be disappointed.

"I'll be dead soon anyway."

Dewitt always kept his word.

I was terribly weak after the abortion, and from being ill, every slight movement brought searing pain.

In the three years we'd been married, Dewitt rarely came home.

When he did, it was only to humiliate me. After using me, he would throw some money on the bed and leave without ever spending the night.

"Who are you trying to act weak for?"

He shoved open the bedroom door, yanking me roughly from the bed. I gasped in pain.

"You didn't seem to care when you got rid of the baby, and now you're putting on a show? Allyson, don't you find yourself pathetic?"

He gripped my chin hard, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Dewitt, I'm sick. I'm going to die."

His eyes, long stripped of the clarity they once held during our college days, were now filled with a viciousness.

For a moment, he seemed stunned, but he quickly regained his composure.

"You've really outdone yourself, coming up with something like that. I underestimated you."

He grabbed my arm and dragged me down the stairs, throwing me onto the couch with a harsh thud.

A sharp pain shot through my chest, and I tasted blood in my mouth.

I was really in agony. It felt as if my insides were tearing apart.

"Dewitt, I want some coffee."

As soon as the new girl saw me, she eagerly clung to Dewitt's arm, pouting sweetly.

"Are you deaf? Kylie said she wants coffee. Get to grinding!"

I mustered all my strength to push myself off the couch and began to limp towards the stairs.

However, Dewitt grabbed my wrist again.

"If you don't want your grandmother to die in the hospital, I suggest you do as you're told."

My grandmother was the only family I had left in the world.

Dewitt had used my mother to force me into marriage, and now, he used my grandmother as leverage.

After my grandmother knew I got married, she was afraid I would be wronged, so she treated Dewitt even better than me.

Even when she was ill, she would make him a birthday cake every year.

Every time I took Dewitt to see her, even if she was not feeling well, she would prepare snacks for him.

She was so careful around him, just like my mother had been.

Despite having a coffee machine in the house, he insisted I grind the beans by hand. I knew this was just another way for him to humiliate me.

But he wasn't satisfied with just that. He wrapped his arms around the girl's waist and began kissing her passionately right in front of me.

"Someone's here."

The girl's coy gestures only fueled Dewitt's desire.

He pressed her down and kissed her deeply.

"Isn't it more exciting with her watching?" he asked.

"I don't like it! Can you make her leave? Or do you not want to let her go?"

The girl shot me a challenging look.

Dewitt glanced at me and let out a sneer.

"Fine, I'll make her leave."

It was already past midnight, and his villa was built on a mountain.

I knew that once I walked out of his villa, there would be no signal, and I couldn't call a cab or find a hotel.

But as long as I could get away from Dewitt, I was willing to do anything.

The night wind was very cold. I walked for a long time. In the end, I walked on a road without street lights, and everything around me was pitch black.

I crouched down on the ground, hugging myself tightly, trying to find some warmth.

I closed my eyes, and my mother's face appeared before me. She was reaching out her hand to me. I really wanted to throw myself into her arms.

I suddenly felt that if I died like this, it would not be so bad.

I reached out my hands, ready to join my mother, but then Dewitt shook me awake.

"Allyson, you've really got some nerve."

He scooped me up and forced me into his car.

In the beginning, Dewitt and I were deeply in love.

In my first year of college, my mother was diagnosed with a serious illness.

At that time, my only wish was for my mother to survive. I was desperate to make money, working four jobs a day, even at the cost of abandoning my studies.

When my mother found out, she cried and refused to see me.

I had no choice but to return to college, but I continued working whenever I wasn't in class.

My mother's medical bills were astronomical to me.

Later, when the college learned about my situation, they started a fundraiser for me.

Dewitt generously donated all the money I needed, even giving more than what was required.

"Thank you."

He was a busy man, and it took me a while to find him to express my gratitude with a deep bow.

At that time, Dewitt was full of vigor. His composed and confident demeanor left a lasting impression on me.

I quietly remembered his kindness, resolving to repay him one day.

Even after that, I continued to work whenever I could.

After that, Dewitt and I didn't cross paths much. But one day, while I was working at a restaurant, I suddenly lost control of my hand holding a tray.

Looking back, I realize that this was the first sign of my illness slowly manifesting.

The sauce from the tray spilled all over the customer.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

The customer was a rough-looking man.

"I'm so sorry, sir, I really didn't mean to. I apologize sincerely. I can pay for the damages."

It was my first time dealing with a situation like this, and I was incredibly flustered.

I frantically tried to wipe the man's clothes while apologizing repeatedly.

"Pay for it? Do you have any idea what brand this suit is? Can you afford it?"

Tears blurred my vision, and I didn't dare to speak, silently enduring his berating.

After he had his fill of scolding me, he said, "Alright, I can be reasonable."

Hearing this, I saw a glimmer of hope.

"I have just one condition," that man said.

"Sure. As long as it's something I can do, I'll agree."

He grinned at me, then grabbed my hand and, with a lascivious smile, said, "If you spend one night with me, I won't make you pay."

I was stunned for a moment and then slapped him subconsciously.

"You little bitch. How dare you hit me!"

What followed was the clichéd damsel-in-distress scene.

Dewitt stepped in front of me, delivering a punch that sent the man sprawling on the ground.

The whole situation had been my fault. I handed all my money to the man, then grabbed Dewitt and fled.

"Thank you, Dewitt."

He had helped me again.

"Didn't I give you enough money? Why are you still working?"

Though he was asking a question, his tone carried a hint of anger.

"It's enough, but I can't just take your money for nothing. I'll repay you someday."

He chuckled.

"Do I look like I'm short of money?

"Well, if you really feel that guilty, I have a condition too."

Hearing the word "condition" made me nervous, and I stole a glance at him.

He flicked my forehead lightly.

"What are you thinking? I heard your mom's a great cook, so I guess you must be good at it, too.

"Come to my place and handle my meals. Consider it repaying the debt."

I stared at him in surprise.

"Is it really that simple?"

"Are you agreeing or not?"

He smiled at me. Back then, I felt he looked just like an angel.

"Yes, I agreed!"

I nodded enthusiastically.

Later, we fell in love over time.

At least, that was how I thought our love story began. Dewitt told me he had liked me long before that.

We were like any other couple, enjoying life together.

Later, when a car was out of control and rushed towards us, he pushed me out, but he was injured.

At that time, I felt that the feeling of being loved wholeheartedly by someone was really wonderful.

However, our happiness was fragile.

We were in love for four years. After graduation, he planned an extravagant proposal for me.

But on the day he proposed, I was diagnosed with the same illness as my mother.