Harry Hastings, the boy I raised with care, turned out to be the child of my husband, Patrick Hastings, and his ex-girlfriend, Rachel Parker. I became a laughingstock.

When I was seven months pregnant, Patrick drove me to the prenatal check-up. However, after receiving a phone call, he lost focus and crashed into the green belt, resulting in a miscarriage and permanent damage to my uterus that left me unable to conceive for the rest of my life.​

He was so remorseful that he cried at my bedside and begged for my forgiveness.

From then on, he loved me even more and fulfilled my every request.

Out of love for him, I accepted reality after a brief reproach. To give me a sense of security, he took the initiative to undergo a vasectomy.

He also brought me to an orphanage to adopt a boy who was just two years old.

Four years later, Patrick hired a piano teacher for Harry.

Suddenly, the truth about my car accident dawned on me...

1

Harry felt unwell in kindergarten, so I took him to see a doctor early in the afternoon.

Downstairs at our home, I ran into Patrick and Rachel, Harry's piano teacher, walking side by side in front.

With her arms crossed, she appeared humble and glanced frequently at him.

Harry did have piano lessons today, but she came a little too early.

He happily gathered his strength and shouted, "Daddy, Ms. Parker."

Perhaps they were too far away to hear his call.

When Harry and I reached the elevator entrance, I noticed that the elevator had stopped on the rooftop of the eighteenth floor.

But we lived on the sixth floor.

Frowning slightly, I pressed the button for the eighteenth floor somehow.

The elevator doors opened, and Patrick's voice, laden with resentment and anger, echoed from the rooftop.

"Rachel, what on earth do I owe you that you're torturing me like this? You can see that I love my wife and have a happy family. Shouldn't you keep your promise and get out of my life?"

Rachel bit her thin lip lightly, lifted a strand of hair, and tucked it behind her ear, tears instantly welling up in her eyes.

"Patrick, after all these years, I found that I still love you. Patrick, I love you and Ha..."

"Shut up!"

​Patrick clutched her neck fiercely, betraying his hidden pain.​

"Do you think I will still believe your lies? You abandoned me so decisively back then..."

Rachel's face flushed red, and she was tearful. Before Patrick could finish his words, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him affectionately.

While weeping, she apologized, "I'm sorry, Patrick. I'm sorry..."

Patrick did not refuse.

In an instant, he released his grip on her neck and embraced her slender body tightly, wishing he could meld it into his own. He tasted her tears and responded passionately to her kiss.

My heart was suddenly torn apart and sank into a bottomless icy cave.

I felt dizzy, and my bag slipped from my wrist, falling to the floor. Unable to control myself, I took two steps back, stumbling against the door.

Everything happened so abruptly that I couldn't cover Harry's eyes in time.

Holding my hand tightly, he tried to help me up.

His childish face revealed his fear and anxiety.

"Mommy, Mommy, what's wrong? I can't pull you, Mommy."

Harry's crying interrupted Patrick and Rachel's kiss.

I hugged him tightly and pressed his face against my shoulder.

He shouldn't endure such a dirty scene.

The blush on Patrick's face, brought on by sexual arousal, faded completely, leaving him pale-faced.

"H-Honey?"

After freezing for a moment, he immediately pushed Rachel away and ran toward me.

She unwillingly tugged at the corner of his clothes and collapsed on the floor, gasping and crying.

Patrick squatted down and reached out to hug me.

I yelled at him with all my strength, "Do not touch me!"

Enduring the severe pain in my heart, I rose, took Harry's hand, and went downstairs without hesitation.

Patrick stood there in a daze, calling me out with infinite sorrow.

"Honey..."

I felt cold all over and tensed up. My heart seemed to be weighed down by a massive rock. I struggled to breathe as if I might suffocate at any second.

With tears in his eyes, Harry looked up at me and asked with sobs, "Mommy, does Daddy no longer love us? Why did he embrace Ms. Parker?"

"Don't cry, Mommy. I will always love you. I won't take piano lessons again."

Maybe because Harry was raised in an orphanage, despite all my efforts to shower him with affection and warmth, caution remained ingrained in his bones.

I couldn't bear seeing him like this. My heart ached intensely with pain.

After wiping away my tears, I hugged him, forced a smile, and pressed my forehead against his.

"I will always love you, too."

Harry experienced a stomachache during his nap, and the doctor advised him to consume a light diet.

After settling him down, I went to the kitchen to cook oatmeal.

Patrick opened the door and stood at the kitchen door, feeling depressed.

"Honey, I fired Rachel. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me once, just once?"

My hands shook, causing me to spill most of the oatmeal from the pot.

After calming down, we fell into a long silence.

There was a family of three residing in the apartment. Once filled with laughter until today, it was now eerily quiet.

My mind went blank. I eagerly wished everything that had just happened was an absurd dream.

Unfortunately, it was not a dream.

Struggling to contain the overwhelming emotions in my heart, I put the oatmeal back into the pot.

Things had come to this, and I needed some time to weigh the pros and cons between forgiving him and divorcing him.

I stepped out of the kitchen in a daze without even casting a glance at Patrick.

The moment he grabbed my arm, I reflexively retched. Then, I pivoted around and rushed into the bathroom.

I lay on the toilet, vomiting nonstop until my stomach started to cramp and ache.

I rolled over and sat on the floor, resting my forehead against the cold toilet bowl. Tears instantly blurred my eyes, and I bit my fist and wept silently.

I knew Patrick had an ex-girlfriend that he could never get over.

A few years ago, because he couldn't provide the life she desired, she decisively left with a wealthy businessman.

He was depressed for a long time.

It was self-evident that the woman was Rachel.

Patrick's parents once joked that he was ignorant and reckless in his youth.

Rachel, whom he couldn't bring himself to talk about, was the reason behind his newfound steadiness, gentleness, and patience.

After being a little jealous, I was still grateful to her inwardly for training him so well.

​So, within two months of our relationship, I willingly married him.​

I soon became pregnant. He was so excited that he burst into tears and vowed to be good to me all his life.

When I was seven months pregnant, Patrick drove me to the prenatal check-up. However, after receiving a phone call, he lost focus and crashed into the green belt, resulting in a miscarriage and permanent damage to my uterus that left me unable to conceive for the rest of my life.​

Overwhelmed with grief, I beat him repeatedly.

"Who was calling that you had to answer while driving? Didn't you realize there are constant bends there? It's a dangerous stretch of road!"

​Patrick slapped himself violently in deep remorse. He wept bitterly and begged my forgiveness at my bedside, confessing that he should not have risked answering the phone just to compete for the position of vice president.

From then on, he loved me even more and fulfilled my every request.

Out of love for him, I accepted reality after a brief reproach.

To offer an apology and give me a sense of security, he took the initiative to undergo a vasectomy.

Later, we adopted Harry, who was just two years old, from the orphanage.