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.