Stephanie, my wife, is worth billions. Money flows like water for her, and she's never been shy about using it.

She had no problem throwing millions at an art graduation exhibition for a male college student she'd been supporting for two years.

But when it came to spending just $20,000 to save her daughter's life, she flat-out refused.

After my daughter died in front of me from severe diarrhea and dehydration, I handed Stephanie a divorce agreement with a sinking heart, unable to understand how things had come to this.

When Stephanie saw the death certificate attached to the agreement, she actually chuckled.

"Sorry, I didn't think diarrhea could kill someone."

I didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. My heart was broken, but hers seemed untouched.

"I know you're heartbroken," she added, her voice unnervingly calm, "but it's okay. In three days, my baby with Landon will be born."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Eddie's POV

"I've already agreed with Landon that after the baby is born, he'll bring the child to you to raise," Stephanie pointed out, "You just need to be a good son-in-law to the Thomas family. But there's one condition: you have to let Landon visit the child regularly."

"There is no need for that, Stephanie. I just want a divorce," I said, forcing a smile, though it felt more like a grimace.

——

I'd tried to get money from her, and when that didn't work, I sold the engagement ring she'd spent a fortune creating for me.

I rushed back to the hospital with the money. As I passed the long corridor, I could hear the harsh beeping of machines from the room at the end of the hall.

Then, in a split second, everything went silent like someone had hit a pause button on the world.

"Sorry, Mr. Hayes, please accept our condolences," the nurse said, "If you had paid the medical fees a few days earlier, your child wouldn't have passed away. Our hospital policy is strict: if the patient or family doesn't pay the fees on time, we can't administer medication. We're truly sorry. We did everything we could."

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

My throat felt like it was being crushed, like a blade wrapped in cotton.

I couldn't make a sound.

With heavy, unsteady steps, I walked to my daughter's bedside, not knowing how to face her death.

Just this morning, my dear daughter Thea had still managed to smile at me, still had the energy to call out for me.

The television on the white wall flickered for a moment.

When the signal returned, Stephanie's face appeared on the screen.

She was smiling.

In front of her, Landon Murphy, the male student she'd funded, was standing, greeting every guest at the art exhibition with a warmth that was as fake as it was forced. It was a sharp contrast to the coldness she usually wore.

A bold audience, too eager to hide their curiosity, couldn't resist speaking up in front of the cameras:

"With my years of experience as a strategist, it seems that Ms. Stephanie Thomas, the president of Thomas Group, and our painter, Landon Murphy, aren't just in a sponsor-sponsee relationship, right?"

"Come on, spill it! Are you two getting together soon?"

Landon's face turned red with embarrassment, and he couldn't keep his eyes from lingering on her with a tenderness that was all too obvious.

Stephanie didn't refute it. The smile at the corner of her mouth told me everything. She was enjoying this.

"But isn't Stephanie already married?" someone continued. "Her first child is five years old, and she's pregnant with another one. Did she and her husband get divorced while she was pregnant, but just haven't made it public yet?"

The crowd fell silent for a few moments.

The person who had asked the question immediately retreated into the crowd, not daring to speak again.

Landon awkwardly smiled in front of the camera, then turned to Stephanie.

"Stephanie, why hasn't Eddie come to the exhibition?" he cautiously asked. "Is he still upset about the auction last time? Should I go and apologize to him?"

Without missing a beat, Stephanie dismissed him with a quick response.

"No need. He's been spoiled by me and is so petty. It's just a pair of precious cufflinks, and he actually got into a fight with you over them. Since he's so obsessed with money and things like that, I won't give him a single penny. I won't let you take that slap in vain."

She exhaled in frustration and kept going, "Seeing him vent his anger on you just annoys me."

Stephanie's protective tone only reinforced the rumors that our marriage was falling apart.

It caused most people to think I was the one who ruined everything.

Eddie's POV

"Stephanie Thomas's husband must be a very petty person. It's exhausting to be around someone like him. No wonder she has found someone else," one of the guests commented.

The one beside her even remarked, "Let's put that aside for now. They still have a kid, right? If they really get divorced, what happens to the child? If Stephanie Thomas and Landon Murphy continue their stable relationship, they'll definitely get married in the future. Being a stepdad in a wealthy family is no easy task."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

My chest felt like it was being dipped in hot oil, frying over and over again. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe.

I couldn't tell if it was rage or heartbreak swelling inside me, but I felt both pulsing through my veins.

Drilling deep into my bones, the cold air in the hospital room cut right through me. Unable to endure the cold any longer, I turned away from the TV and toward the family in the bed next to mine.

"Excuse me. Could you please raise the temperature a bit? My child has diarrhea and can't get any colder."

Time seemed to pass without me even noticing.

The cold, though, kept sinking into me, frosting my thoughts, freezing everything inside. It wasn't until I could take it no longer that I finally looked up.

The nurse was standing there, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Mr. Hayes, normally, family members aren't allowed to stay in the morgue for more than fifteen minutes. You've been here all afternoon. You need to leave now. The director is asking you to come and sign the death certificate. And the child's mother still hasn't shown up. Now that the child has passed, she should at least make an appearance. You should try contacting her."

Her words were like a thunderclap.

I finally snapped back to reality. Slowly, my legs started moving, weak and shaky as I forced myself to stand. I walked out of the room, the weight of it all almost too much to bear.

The process for getting the death certificate was shockingly fast.

Within two hours, I found myself standing by a cold draft, my hand trembling as I dialed the funeral home.

Then I tried calling Stephanie thirty times, but she never answered.

Leaning against the cold tiles of the hallway, I couldn't help but laugh bitterly at myself. I was just so tired, too tired even to feel anything anymore.

The funeral home staff arrived just before the director's shift ended, and they came to take my daughter away.

On the way to the funeral home, I lost track of how many times I cried, with the pain in my chest making it hard to breathe.

Once we got to the funeral home, they immediately took Thea's body and placed it in cold storage. They told me I could go home and bring her favorite clothes so she could change into something clean and dignified.

Yes, that's right.

Just like Stephanie, my daughter had a thing about cleanliness.

"Once the deceased's body arrives at the funeral home, cremation usually takes place within 72 hours. However, if the family requests, we can extend the time for cremation—three days, five days, or seven days. Would you like to do that?"

I reached out and touched my daughter's cold, lifeless face.

My hand shook as I said, "Three days, please."

...

I stumbled home, dazed, in the middle of the night.

When Stephanie saw me, the smile in her eyes quickly faded.

"Why are you back so late? Is Thea feeling better? Landon heard that she had diarrhea and was really worried. He asked me to bring back two boxes of medicine."

I turned away, avoiding the medicine she handed me.

As I looked at the box, I saw the expiration date. It made my stomach turn, and I couldn't help but force out a bitter smile.

Tears started flowing without my permission.

"Expired meds? Who's he trying to kill?"

Stephanie froze, her face stiffening as she quickly flipped the box over to hide the date.

A flash of impatience crossed her face, but she masked it quickly.

"Landon just didn't pay attention. Do you have to be so aggressive with your words? You know pregnant women shouldn't take medicine. Also, this is his first time trying to be a dad. How could he think of everything?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

My heart felt heavy as I stared at her, unable to find the right words.

But Stephanie continued, persistently asking, "And why didn't you come to Landon's art exhibition today? I told you a few days ago that it was really important. Why did you have to make an exception on this day?"

Stephanie instinctively defended Landon, not realizing how difficult it was for me to hear. She still hadn't noticed the redness of my eyes or the raw pain burning behind them.

So, I asked, "Do you even remember why you supported Landon in the first place?"

Stephanie froze, her mouth hanging open as she processed what I said.

The words she was about to throw at me were swallowed back, but I didn't care anymore.

Eddie's POV

"Forgotten, have you?"

I let the question hang, my voice steady, but weighed down like a storm cloud.

"Then, do you still remember when things started to change between you and him?"

I looked at her calmly as I asked again, "Do you remember what you said to me the night I caught you after your ridiculous one-night stand with him?"

The room was suddenly and completely silent. The subtle smell of vetiver in the air brought both our minds back to the past.

Landon Murphy.

He was a university student whom Stephanie had brought back two years ago when she went on a business trip to a remote area. At that time, Landon had been venting his frustrations about his family, who were pressuring him to marry the village chief's daughter.

He fought against his parents, insisting that love should be the foundation of any relationship, not family arrangements. He didn't want to be tied down to a small, backward village.

And because of his firm beliefs about love, he connected with Stephanie.

Stephanie couldn't resist. She decided to fund him, bringing him back and settling him at a prominent university near the Thomas family's mansion. She bought him a house, gave him a luxury car, and handed him a black card to support his entrepreneurial ventures.

As time went on, Stephanie and Landon grew both closer and more distant from me. It became so extreme that she even started to ignore our daughter.

Then came the night everything came crashing down.

Stephanie had worked late, and somehow, she came back to the wrong house.

When I found her, she knelt before me, her face pale and frantic. She grabbed my hand and slapped her own face. Over and over.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. It's my fault. I drank too much at a business dinner. He didn't want this. I forced him... I promise it won't happen again. After he graduates, I'll stop supporting him."

Then, she got pregnant.

Recalling that incident, a mocking smile played on my lips.

"Stephanie, can you explain something to me? You slept with him a year ago, but now you're eight months pregnant? Has there been new research showing that ovulation and fertilization can be delayed by 2 to 4 months?"

She flinched, and I could see the color drain from her face. "That's enough, Edward!"

Her anger flared, and for a brief moment, I almost felt like I'd won, but it didn't matter. Nothing did.

Facing my questions, Stephanie said, "I'll explain everything later."

Then, she dismissed my question and shifted our conversation.

"What about Thea? Why didn't you bring her back? She's just got diarrhea. Does she really need to stay in the hospital this long?"

Thinking about my daughter felt like a thousand hammers pounding my chest, each blow making it harder to breathe.

I pulled out the folded death certificate and divorce agreement from my bag, my hands trembling. I slumped weakly into the foyer, my face drained—drained of any hope I had left.

"Three days from now, cremation," I said quietly, with the weight of my loss hanging in the air. "Find some time to go see your daughter and take care of the divorce paperwork."

Stephanie took the documents from me, her eyes scanning them briefly before turning back to me with a cold gaze that seemed to pierce straight through.

Then she laughed.

The timing was too much for me to take.

"The timing is so coincidental," she said, her voice sounding almost casual.

The documents slipped from her grasp, scattering at my feet.

"Sorry, I didn't think diarrhea could kill someone."

I clenched my fists, my frustration building.

"I know you're heartbroken," Stephanie said, her voice unnervingly calm. "But it's okay. In three days, Landon and my baby will be born."

There it was again. That casual tone. The coldness. As if none of this even mattered.

"I've already agreed with him that after the baby is born, he'll bring the child to you to raise. You just need to be a good son-in-law to the Thomas family. But there's one condition: you have to let Landon visit the child regularly."

I froze. My entire body went still, like a bomb had gone off in my chest.

Disbelief. Anger. Shock.

"Stephanie!" I spat, my voice rising, the words coming out in a roar. "Do you even hear yourself? Are you a monster?!"

My voice echoed through the house, waking Landon, who had been napping in the bedroom.

Stephanie glanced at me, eyes full of judgment. "Lower your voice. Landon is exhausted from doing prenatal education and needs his nap."

Her words barely registered as I fought to keep my emotions in check.

And then, before I even knew it, everything exploded.

A sharp slap.

The sound echoed through the room, and I barely had time to process it before the coldness in Stephanie's eyes froze me in place.

"Feeling better now?"

She crossed the line again.

"Don't make jokes like that again. Who dies from diarrhea? And making jokes like that about Thea. Aren't you worried she'll pick up bad habits from you?"