In the darkness, the impatience in his eyes burned brighter than lightning.

After the child fell asleep, he got up first and headed back to the bedroom. "I have an early meeting tomorrow. You stay with him."

"Don’t bother with breakfast for me. Just focus on taking care of our son."

I wasn’t always a stay-at-home wife.

In the beginning, just like David, I prioritized my career.

We dated through college, got internships, secured full-time jobs, married, and had a child—everything seemed smooth, but in reality, it was me who kept making concessions.

Step by step, I gave up my job to devote myself entirely to taking care of him and our child, ensuring he could work and advance without any worries.

Now, he’s the head of a subsidiary.

David left early in the morning without his usual goodbye.

Still, I prepared dinner for him as always.

Around 8 p.m., my phone buzzed.

David: Business trip. Pack my luggage. Pickup in 30 mins.

His tone was no different from assigning a work task.

I was used to it.

All these years, I’ve been the one packing for him, preparing everything.

When I dragged the suitcase downstairs at the appointed time, I saw Ella in the passenger seat adjusting the radio.

She smiled at me sweetly. "Elizabeth!"

Then, with an apologetic sigh, she added, "I’m still new to the internship and don’t know much. David said he’d take me along to broaden my horizons."

"An intern traveling with the CEO?" My grip on the suitcase handle tightened, veins faintly visible.

David glanced at me. "I’m just teaching her how to write reports on the way."

His fingers tapped a light rhythm on the steering wheel—a telltale sign of his good mood.

In the past, he would go to great lengths for me. But now, he could barely hide his weariness when dealing with me.

I suddenly remembered how, early in his career, he once drank until he had a stomach hemorrhage with a client, yet still dragged himself up at 3 a.m. to cook congee for me.

Or how, after his first promotion, he booked an entire revolving restaurant and projected our wedding photos on loop just to make me happy.

Back then, his heart and eyes were filled with only me.

But later, he started frequently changing female companions.

At first, of course, I fought with him relentlessly.

But for the sake of our child, our life, and so-called reputation, I ended up compromising—over and over again.

Just like with this new intern.

One after another.

I never took it seriously before. But this time, I could tell—David was serious.

The way he doted on Ella was exactly like how he once pursued me.

On the second day of his business trip, Ella suddenly added me on Facebook.

"Elizabeth, David wears XL boxers, right?" A message popped up, accompanied by a photo of a messy hotel room, a man’s dress shirt scattered by the bathtub.

She followed up: "He drank too much and threw up. He has no clean clothes left. Elizabeth, everything’s soaked. I’ll have to go buy him new ones."

She played the innocent.

In the days that followed, Ella kept updating her Facebook with posts about David.

I tried to resist looking, but I couldn’t help myself.

A nine-grid photo set titled "Watching the sunrise with David" showed her wrapped in his suit jacket, beaming.

A video from the "Celebration Banquet" captured him pausing mid-shrimp-peeling to drop it into her bowl.

A few days later, David called and asked me to pick him up at the airport.

It was pouring. I got drenched while waiting.

The flight was delayed. Holding an umbrella, I stood at the arrival gate for what felt like forever before finally spotting him—with Ella.

His suit jacket was still draped over her shoulders.

When Ella saw me, she greeted me first. "Elizabeth! The driver said he had an emergency, so thank you for picking us up."

My gaze fell on the jacket she was wearing. "If saying that makes you feel superior, I won’t argue."

Ella’s smile stiffened.

David got into the backseat first. "Take her home first."

"The address is Cloudtop Garden, Building 3, Unit 701."

The moment he recited the number, I remembered the movie ticket stub I’d found in his suit pocket last week while organizing the closet.

Ella slid into the backseat with a bright smile. "Thanks, Elizabeth!"

I watched them through the rearview mirror.

They kept their distance, but the chill in my chest spread until my whole body felt frozen.

By the time we got home, it was late. I went straight to shower.

Just as I was dressing, the bathroom door suddenly opened.

David stepped through the steam and wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Miss me?"

A diamond necklace dangled against my collarbone. "Saw it at an auction during the trip. Thought it’d suit you. Do you like it?"

His lips brushed my neck.

I caught the scent of Ella’s perfume on him and shoved him away.

In the mirror, I recognized the pendant—it had appeared in Ella’s Facebook before.

Her caption at the time read: So expensive, but not my style~ Politely declined!

In other words, something someone else had rejected.

And now, I was the one being handed scraps.

I pulled out my phone, opened Ella’s Facebook, and shoved it in David’s face.

"Explain this."

He paused mid-kiss against my shoulder, then chuckled lowly. "She’s just a kid messing around. Why take it seriously? She’s only an intern."

Even when Ella was blatantly provoking me, he still shielded her.

Frustration coiled in my chest, and I pushed him away again.

His expression finally darkened. "Are you done? Still acting up?"

"Elizabeth, I thought staying home all these years would’ve made you wiser. Seems you’ve only grown more foolish."

With that, he hoisted me onto the bathroom counter, forcing himself between my legs. "Do I really have to force you to fulfill your duties as a wife?"

That night, there was no tenderness—only brutality.

By morning, I was feverish.

By afternoon, I couldn’t take it anymore and went to the hospital.

David called while I was on an IV drip.

Hearing I was at the hospital, he said he’d pick me up.

I didn’t refuse.

After the drip, I walked out and saw his car parked outside.

I moved toward the passenger seat—only for Ella to pop her head out, holding a tub of popcorn. "Elizabeth! I’m meeting my bestie for shopping. David said it’s on the way!"

Suddenly, this life felt unbearably exhausting.

I was too tired to even pretend.

Ignoring her, I climbed into the backseat and shut my eyes.

Even knowing I was unwell, David still dropped Ella off at the mall first.

As she got out, she waved at me with that same bright smile.

I stared coldly and rolled up the window without a word.

Only after driving off did David voice his displeasure. "She’s just a kid. Why be so petty? You’re acting classless."

I kept my eyes closed.

Despite the IV, my fever hadn’t broken.

After a pause, his tone softened slightly. "Still not feeling better?"

I didn’t answer, and he didn’t press further.

At home, he helped me out of the car, arms around me as he murmured near my ear, "Was I too rough last night?"

"Elizabeth, last night was my fault. I’ll be more careful next time."

I only said I was a little tired and went straight upstairs to sleep.

In the morning, I asked the housekeeper to take Andrew to school. It wasn’t until the afternoon that I finally felt a bit of energy return.

By evening, I went to pick Andrew up from kindergarten.

But the teacher told me that an auntie had already picked him up early.

I pressed for details, and she said it was arranged by David.

Panicked, I immediately called David.

The call went through, but no one answered.

Sweat broke out all over my body in fear. Just as I was about to call the police, he finally picked up.

Deafening birthday cheers and the clinking of glasses blasted through the phone.

"A friend’s birthday," David’s voice was drowned in noise. "I brought Andrew along for some fun."

The tension inside me surged uncontrollably. I raised my voice, "Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?! Do you even know—"

My son’s bright voice chimed in, "Mommy, it’s Auntie Ella…"

The call abruptly cut off, followed by a harsh dial tone.

I stood alone on the street, the wind howling past me. Suddenly, I felt so, so cold.

When I got home, I waited on the couch alone until late at night. Finally, laughter echoed from the entryway.

Andrew rushed into my arms, holding an exquisite cake box. "Mommy! Auntie Ella made this cake—it’s so yummy! She even taught me how to pipe frosting flowers!"

The sickly sweetness of strawberry jam mixed with an unfamiliar perfume assaulted my nose.

A wave of nausea hit me, and I rushed to the bathroom, retching uncontrollably.

"What’s wrong?" David came in, his hand on my back. "Not feeling well?"

He handed me a towel, then suddenly asked, "Elizabeth, have you had your period recently?"

I jerked my head up, meeting his gaze.

He leaned closer, his tone hopeful. "Is there a chance… we might be having a second baby?"

The wild excitement in his eyes stung mine.

He had always wanted me to give him another child.

But that night, I lay awake, restless.

The next morning, I took a pregnancy test myself.

Two bright red lines.

I was really pregnant.

When David saw the test, he spun me around in joy.

He had always wanted a daughter.

He even said he’d adjusted his work schedule to take time off and accompany me to the hospital for a checkup.

But when the day came, I clutched the early pregnancy report in the hospital hallway, calling him over and over—with no answer. I kept telling myself he must be busy, until a text popped up:

"Ella got into a car accident. I can’t leave right now."

On social media, Ella had just posted a selfie with her bandaged hand, captioned with a pouty crying face:

"Just a tiny scratch, but someone’s making a huge fuss over it."

Maybe it was the overwhelming smell of disinfectant, but I instantly felt sick again.

My fingers trembled as I gripped the report, then knocked on the doctor’s office door.

"Doctor, please schedule an abortion for me."

As the anesthesia seeped into my veins, I closed my eyes, but tears kept falling.

After the procedure, I staggered out of the operating room, leaning against the wall for support.

Then, a familiar figure came into view.

David was crouching at the end of the hallway, offering his broad back to Ella.

The sight was all too familiar.

Seven years ago, after my emergency appendectomy, he had carried me on his back just like that.

I remembered back in college, when I had a terrible cold in the dead of winter—he stood outside my dorm for three hours just to bring me medicine.