"Is this Ayden's size?" I asked, staring at her without a change in my expression.

When she heard what I said, a flicker of unease crossed Valerie's face.

Then, as if trying to cover her tracks, she retorted, "Maybe the designer got the size I mentioned wrong. I'll have it redone."

Clicking my tongue, I replied casually, "No need."

It no longer mattered.

Seeing my indifferent attitude, her brows furrowed tightly.

"Minton, how much longer are you going to act like this?" she snapped.

"I was trying to have a civil discussion with you, but look at your pathetic attitude."

"Let me inform you now: because of his health, Ayden will be staying at our house."

Apparently, her rambling had only one purpose—to make Ayden's stay in our marital home.

I didn’t want to argue anymore. After a nod, I turned and went to my room.

Seeing my silence, she assumed I had given in.

She muttered under her breath as I walked away, "Good thing I was smart enough not to put your name on the property deed. Otherwise, who knows how messy this would get."

Later that night, as Valerie lay beside me, Ayden called.

"Valerie," he said, "I’m not used to being at the hospital alone. It’s uncomfortable..."

Hearing his voice, she immediately got up, ready to leave.

At that moment, my phone also rang.

It was my mother.

"Minton, happy birthday," she said warmly. Her voice was loud enough for Valerie to hear.

Instantly, Valerie froze mid-step, her expression stiffening.

"Today is your birthday?" she asked. "Why didn’t you tell me earlier?"

But before I could answer, Ayden’s voice interrupted again, crying on the other end of her call.

After a moment of hesitation, she turned and walked out.

"I’ll be back later," she said.

Watching her resolute figure disappear, I felt no emotion.

I simply said into the phone, "Thanks, Mom. I’m coming home."

Home. My real home.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

Finally, my mom replied, "That’s good. No matter what, I support you."

She didn’t ask why I suddenly wasn’t getting married.

She knew me well enough to understand that I wasn’t impulsive; there had to be a reason.

Valerie didn’t come back that night.

The next day, I booked a plane ticket and went to the office to finalize my resignation.

By the time I returned to the apartment, it was the middle of the night.

When I entered the door code, it repeatedly showed an error.

Frustrated, I called Valerie several times, but she didn’t answer.

Desperation led me to kick the door several times.

Finally, after a long wait, the door opened.

The moment she saw me, she launched into a tirade.

"I just got Ayden to sleep, and now you’ve woken him up with your racket!"

I ignored her scolding and asked coldly, "You changed the password, didn’t you?"

At my question, her tone faltered. "Ayden can’t remember complicated codes, so I changed it. It’s easier this way."

Yesterday, she had only mentioned it; today, she couldn’t wait to move Ayden in.

The original door code was the date Valerie and I first met.

"This apartment—I paid part of the down payment too," I said quietly.

Valerie had more than enough money to buy the entire place herself, but back then, I insisted we both contribute to make it feel like a shared home.

Upon hearing my words, her face darkened.

"So what? Are you planning to argue about money now?" she hissed.

A sense of frustration swept through me. Valerie always had a way of derailing the conversation.

What enraged me most was that it was a house I paid for—yet I was locked out.

Seeing me silent, Valerie pulled out her phone. "It’s just money, right? I’ll transfer it to you now."

"Do you really think paying a little gives you the right to act high and mighty?" she continued rambling as she scrolled through her contacts, but after a long while, she couldn’t find my number.

Sighing, I pointed to an avatar on her screen to help her.

On her phone, my profile picture was there, but instead of my name, it was my online username.

No notes. No priority pin.

She hesitated before tapping into the chat window.

The most recent messages were from me, days ago—dozens of texts about wedding preparations, but they were all unanswered.

And at the top of her pinned contacts was not surprisingly Ayden.

Upon realizing that, Valerie’s face turned pale.

She offered a weak explanation. "Ayden has a heart condition, so I need to know about his situation right away."

"Fine. Transfer the money." I remarked.

Anyway, I was leaving, and I wasn’t going to let myself be shortchanged.

This time, she silently sent me the money.

When I finally entered the apartment, I found our bedroom occupied by Ayden.

The cheerful red wedding decorations had been thrown into the trash.

"Ayden said they looked ugly. Honestly, I didn’t like them either, so I tossed them," Valerie hastily explained when she saw me looking at the trash bin.

"He has a heart condition, so don’t make a fuss over these things," she repeated over and over.

I didn’t argue as I might have in the past. Instead, I headed straight to the guest room.

In the middle of the night, she stood outside my locked door, pillow in hand, looking unsure. But she didn’t hesitate for long before turning and heading into Ayden’s room.

The next morning, I woke to find a full breakfast spread on the table.

In our eight years together, it was the first time I’d seen her cook.

I reached for a sandwich, but she darted over and slapped my hand away.

"Ayden has OCD. Don’t touch it," Valerie snarled, then pointed at the other side. "That one’s yours."

Following her gesture, I saw my "breakfast"—a mess of rejected scraps and poorly made leftovers.

I tossed out a casual "I’m not hungry" and left for breakfast elsewhere.

She didn’t seem to care, too busy spoon-feeding Ayden, who she treated like a "big child."

Later, as I headed back upstairs, she stopped me.

"Didn’t you always pester me about going on a date? Well, Ayden wants to go to the amusement park, so let’s all go together."

She thought this token gesture would erase everything unpleasant that had happened.

Just as I was about to refuse, she dragged me downstairs and shoved me into the car.

Shortly after, we arrived at the amusement park. As we alighted from the car, Ayden excitedly pointed to the drop tower.

"Minton, let’s ride it together!" he beamed.

"No." I refused firmly.

Ayden feigned disappointment. "If Minton doesn’t want to play with me, I won’t force it."

But Valerie erupted at his words.

"Minton, can’t you stop ruining the mood?" she snapped.

"Ayden is trying to get closer to you, but you keep rejecting him. Does making others feel bad make you happy?"

Without waiting for my reply, she grabbed my arm and tried to drag me to the ride.

"If you don’t do this, then forget about getting married!"

She always used this line to control me.

But this time, I pushed her hand away.

Her gaze hardened. She called over a bodyguard, who forcibly strapped me into the seat.

"I have acrophobia! I’ve told you that!" I shouted.

It wasn’t a secret; I had told her about my fear of heights many times. However, as if she didn't hear me, she ignored me.

As I struggled desperately against the restraints, Valerie dismissed my fear with a careless remark, “So what? It’s not like you’re going to die.”

One person was no match for a group of bodyguards.

Without further ado, Valerie had me tied securely to the drop tower seat. The ride operator, seeing that all the safety checks were complete, pressed the start button.

No matter how much I fought, it was futile.

As the ride ascended to its highest point, my face turned ashen, my legs trembling uncontrollably. Those few minutes felt like an eternity.

When the ride finally ended, I stumbled off, my entire body shaking. A wave of dizziness hit me like a freight train, and I crouched down, barely able to keep upright.

Valerie looked at me with a fleeting moment of guilt, nervously touching her nose as if debating whether to check on me.

But before she could say a word, Ayden tugged at her sleeve.

“Valerie, let’s go ride the Ferris wheel together!”

This time, she hesitated briefly.

Yet the moment Ayden pouted, she immediately gave in, abandoning me where I stood.

The dizziness worsened until I collapsed on the ground.

When I woke up, I was already at the hospital, and the doctor was scolding me.

“Young people these days are so reckless! With your condition, why would you even think of getting on something like that? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

I spent the next few days recovering in the hospital.

Not once did Valerie call to check on me.

After being discharged, I returned to that so-called "home" and I began packing my belongings.

Halfway through, Valerie and Ayden returned, laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened.

“You finally decided to come back?” she remarked with indifference.

I didn’t react, my face a mask of calm.

Seeing my apathy, she suddenly looked uneasy.

Her mocking tone softened as she walked closer. “Ayden’s agreed to let us get married. Isn’t that great? We can finally go ahead with the wedding. Aren’t you happy?”

Her carefree grin made me chuckle bitterly.

She frowned. “What’s so funny?”

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed with a notification. My flight had been delayed due to weather, and it was rescheduled three days later.

“What are you looking at so intently?” she asked.

“Nothing important,” I flatly answered.

She snatched the phone from my hand, trying to unlock it.

After several failed attempts, I casually reminded her, “The password is my birthday.”

Her expression faltered. She tried a few more times, only to be met with an error message each time.

Even in the cold weather, beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Finally, she gave up, tossing the phone back to me.

“Whatever, I don’t care.”

My birthday had passed just a few days ago. Her indifference was nothing new.

At that moment, Ayden spoke up with feigned curiosity.

“Hey, Minton, what’s with the suitcase? Are you going somewhere?”

Valerie’s eyes widened in realization, and she stared at me.

“Are you planning to run away?”

Before I could reply, she lunged for the bag slung over my shoulder.

“No, I’m not,” I said flatly. Leaving wasn’t an option until three days later.

Despite my denial, she clung to the bag as if her life depended on it, trying to stop me.

During the scuffle, the bag slipped from my grasp, spilling its contents onto the floor.

Among the scattered items was the transfer document.

Valerie froze, her movements halted as she bent down to pick it up.

She scanned the document, her expression morphing into one of disbelief, and her wide eyes locked onto mine.

"I'm pregnant, Minton. Are you still leaving?" Valerie asked, incredulous.