When my wife was three months pregnant, she knelt down before me and said she wanted to have an abortion—because the company was about to go bankrupt and she needed to study abroad for a year.

Through tears, I agreed, deciding to help her rebuild once she came back.

But a year later, she returned—with a baby in her arms.

When her friend heard the news, she praised her without hesitation.

“You transferred the company’s funds to run away with Eric overseas and you actually gave birth to his baby? Your husband’s such an idiot; he believes everything you say.”

My wife gave a faint, calm smile.

“Without a child, he can focus better—working hard for me and Eric. He was born to be a workhorse.”

I stood frozen at the office door, my whole body cold, but in the end, I left quietly.

Fine. If that’s how it was, then I had nothing left to hold on to.

——

“You really pulled it off, huh? Getting your husband to agree to an abortion?”

Abigail Fields’s tone dripped with mockery as she spoke to my wife.

Charlotte Evans, my wife, snorted. “What else could I do? I promised Eric I’d only have his child.”

“That’s smart!” Abigail chuckled, “You made your husband think the company was going bankrupt so he’d clean up the mess for you, while you used the money to buy Eric a big house overseas, play house with him—and even have his baby.”

“Without a child, he can focus better—working hard for me and Eric. He was born to be a workhorse. While Eric has suffered enough following me these past few years; I should at least compensate him. Not that pathetic loser,” Charlotte’s voice dripped with disdain.

I froze in place.

So it turned out — her claim that the company was going bankrupt was a lie.

She hadn’t wanted an abortion because she was depressed — she’d done it to make room for another man’s child.

The conversation in the office went on, but I could no longer make out the words.

My ears buzzed, drowning everything else out.

Suddenly, Charlotte’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and her expression softened instantly.

“What? You sprained your ankle? Okay! Don’t worry, I’ll be right there!”

She hung up, grabbed her coat from the chair and rushed out.

I instinctively stepped back into the fire exit at the end of the hallway, watching her hurried figure disappear around the corner.

My hand moved to my side, brushing over the wound that still ached faintly.

Just a month ago, I had been stabbed three times by one of her business rivals—for her and for the company. I spent a week hovering between life and death before barely making it back. Even now, I still had to go to the hospital for weekly dialysis just to stay alive.

Charlotte had always claimed she was trying to find a kidney donor for me, but to this day, there had been no progress.

It’s ridiculous now that I think about it.

It’s not that she couldn’t find a donor—she just didn’t really care to.

I took a cab to the hospital. She’d already scheduled today’s rehabilitation session for me and promised she’d come along.

But apparently, Eric had twisted his ankle this morning.

And without a second thought, she chose to be with him instead.

When I got to the treatment room, the nurse told me that the doctor originally assigned to me had been called away at the last minute. They’d arranged for a trainee doctor to take his place.

I nodded, but a heavy feeling settled in my chest.

Later, I found out that because Eric had twisted his ankle, Charlotte had called away every senior doctor in the hospital to treat him.

“I heard that patient’s name is Eric. Apparently, he’s pretty good-looking,” a nurse whispered.

“Miss Evans even dropped everything at the company just to stay with him,” another replied.

I felt like the biggest fool alive for believing every word she ever said.

The therapy was far more painful than I expected. I could feel the blood seeping out, soaking through the sheets—made it sticky.

I didn’t make a sound. I just clenched my teeth until the session was over. When it finally ended, I slowly released my grip on the edge of the bed. At that moment, my phone rang.

It was Charlotte.

I stared at her name flashing on the screen for a long time before answering.

“Are you done?” she asked. Her tone was emotionless, as if she were asking about something trivial.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “It’s over.”

She seemed relieved.

“Then rest for a few days before you go back to work.”

Before I could respond, she hung up.

I walked out of the hospital and stood by the road, waiting for a cab. The wind felt sharp and cold against my skin.

When I got home, the light in the entryway was still on. I’d forgotten to turn it off before leaving this morning. 

This house was full of my traces, but nothing of Charlotte’s. She had barely come home all year and I’d always believed she was abroad working hard for the company. Turns out, she’d been abroad giving birth to Eric’s child—after first getting rid of mine.

I sank into the couch, trembling all over.

Three years ago, when she started her business, she didn’t even have a proper office. I quit my stable job to help her run operations and negotiate deals, staying up countless nights drafting proposals.

When she said cash flow was tight, I mortgaged the house my parents left me. When she had to attend business dinners, I went in her place and drank until my stomach bled.

Then I heard the sound of the door unlocking.

Charlotte stepped in, changed her shoes and walked over. Her brows furrowed when she saw me slumped on the couch.

“Are you just lying around all day?” she asked flatly.

“Too hurt, to move," I muttered.

She glanced at me briefly, not even noticing the faint bloodstain on the couch.

“That’s normal,” she said in a detached tone. “You’ll feel sore for a few days after dialysis. Take a short break — a day or two should be enough. There’s a lot of work piling up at the company and you’ll need to get back soon.”

I looked up at her. There was no concern in her eyes, only impatience.

“I know,” I said quietly.

She nodded, turned and went to the bedroom.

A few minutes later, she came out with a suitcase.

“I’m going on a business trip. Take care of the company while I’m gone.”

I nodded, not asking where or for how long.

She must’ve taken my silence as understanding; her lips curved slightly. “When I’m back, we’ll deal with the company matters together.”

She left, closing the door softly behind her—but it felt like a heavy thud against my chest.

I looked down at the couch. The dark fabric was now darker, soaked with blood. The stain grew bigger. When I tried to stand, my legs gave out and I nearly fell. I had no choice but to head back to the hospital. 

After registering and waiting in line, the doctor told me my kidneys were deteriorating fast. I needed a transplant soon.

He told me to wait upstairs for further tests.

In the crowded elevator, I leaned against the corner.

When the doors opened, I froze—Charlotte was there, holding a bouquet of pink roses, followed by a nurse. Without thinking, I followed her up to the top floor.

The corridor was quiet, carpeted, leading to the VIP ward.

Eric was in the last room. The nurse opened the door for her. Eric sat by the bed, taking the flowers from Charlotte and carefully placing them in a vase.

Charlotte lowered her head as he spoke, smiling tenderly.

I stood by the door, my whole body stiff.

Then a voice broke the silence.

“Excuse me, sir, who are you looking for?” a nurse asked softly.

Charlotte turned her head sharply. When she saw me, a flicker of panic crossed her face.

But soon, she regained her composure and stood up, walking toward me.

She pulled me to the other end of the hallway and whispered, “What are you doing here?”

“A follow-up checkup,” I said calmly.

She nodded, looking relieved. “Eric got hurt. He’s our company’s financial officer and has been a big help. I came to check on him.”

I didn’t say anything—just looked at her lying so effortlessly.

She grew anxious. “What? You think something’s going on? We’re just colleagues. Don’t be so petty. All I think about is the company.”

“You’re overthinking,” I replied. “The doctor said the dialysis wasn’t thorough enough. There’s some residue, so I had to come back for another test.”

She finally relaxed a little, her tone softening. “Then go get your test done. Call me if something comes up. I can’t leave now. Eric’s injury is pretty bad. He needs someone around.”

Heh. A twisted ankle counts as serious compared to my failing kidney?

Just then, Eric’s voice came from inside the ward—soft, with a touch of forced concern.

“Does dialysis hurt a lot? You can barely stand Andrew.”

He smiled faintly, pretending to care. “But you’re still young. With proper treatment, you’ll get better.”

Watching his fake sympathy, I suddenly asked, turning to face him, “I heard from some coworkers that you got married abroad. Who’s your wife?”

Eric froze for a moment, then his face flushed red. His eyes darted toward Charlotte with a hint of shyness.

“She’s an exceptional woman. You know her too,” he said. 

He didn’t say her name, just looked at me, his gaze carrying a trace of provocation.

Charlotte frowned and pulled me aside. “Why are you asking that? Eric needs rest. Don’t bother him.”

“She’s an important client of our company,” she added defensively. “She’s out of town and can’t make it back right now. I’m just helping her take care of Eric — is that so wrong?”

Her voice rose, sharper now.

“You’re being petty. It’s just one bad kidney—stop acting like it’s the end of the world. The company needs us to keep it afloat. Can’t you think about something other than yourself for once?”

I looked at her and suddenly smiled.

“Alright then. Take good care of him. Wouldn’t want to offend a client,” I said quietly.

Without another glance at them, I turned and left the ward.

I remembered how, back when Eric first joined the company, Charlotte always gave him special attention; calling on him during meetings, taking him along on business trips.

I’d even convinced myself it was normal. She was the boss and he was a subordinate. It was just her being responsible.

On my way to the clinic, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Charlotte.

[Sorry, I was a bit harsh earlier. Don’t be mad.]

[Once I finish things here, I’ll come find you. The company needs us both right now. Don’t start anything unnecessary.]

I stared at the screen for a while, then set the phone down without replying.

During the check-up, the doctor examined my scans with a serious look.

“The recovery isn’t good,” he said quietly.

“And honestly, your chances of returning to a normal life are very low.”

He looked up. “Where’s your wife? Why isn’t she here with you?”

I sat there, strangely calm and finally replied in a faint voice, “She’s dead.”

A week later, Charlotte finally came home—with Eric beside her.

What shocked me even more was that Eric was holding their bastard child.

“Sorry, Andrew, I didn’t mean to trouble you,” he said, looking at me nervously. “My wife’s been really busy lately, so she asked me to take care of our baby. Honestly, I have no idea how to look after a kid, but Charlotte said she loves children. She suggested I move in here–to make it easy for all of us.”

I threw a glance at Charlotte. There wasn’t a trace of guilt or fear in her eyes.