With that thought in mind, I left a comment under Lily’s latest video:

Zara Clare: [I wish you a hundred years of happiness and an early birth]

Not long after the message was sent, the video was deleted.

Shortly after, my phone rang. It was Jonathan. I ignored it. Then, with the same cold indifference he had always shown me, I blocked his number.

I suddenly remembered—today was the day of my mom’s cremation. I explained the situation to the hospital and signed my discharge papers ahead of schedule. The doctor was clearly uneasy about my condition and took the initiative to accompany me there.

When the staff handed me my mom’s urn, I did not collapse into tears as I had expected. Instead, I felt something deep inside me finally snap—the last shackle binding me to this wretched life.

I took a deep breath and whispered a quiet goodbye to the doctor before heading back to the Richards Family home to pack my things.

As soon as I stepped into the living room, I saw two people. Jonathan and Lily were sprawled on the sofa together.

At the sight of me, Lily hastily pulled up the zipper of her dress. But no amount of covering up could hide the red marks on her skin, evidence of their heated passion.

I felt nothing. No anger. No heartbreak. I simply turned away and walked to the bedroom as if I didn’t see anything, as if they were nothing more than ghosts in the room.

By the time I finished packing, Lily was gone. Jonathan was left sitting there, drinking alone.

As I stepped out with my suitcase, he finally looked up. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, making it impossible to read his expression.

“Zara, where were you today?” he asked.

“None of your business.”

I was unwilling to say more, but Jonathan suddenly dropped his wine glass.

He walked to me in large strides.

“Don’t act so pure and untouchable,” he sneered, storming toward me. “Do you think I don’t know? You were out whoring around, weren’t you?”

I stiffened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Zara, are you so pressed for loneliness? You think that I have been neglecting you, so you ran into someone else’s arms, is that it?” His voice was low, menacing. “Fine. For your loneliness, I will fulfill you.”

Saying that, Jonathan roughly ripped off my clothes and pulled my hand towards the bed.

Panic surged through me. Struggling violently, I said, “Jonathan, are you insane?! I just gave birth!”

But he wasn’t listening. Like a wild animal, he bit down on my shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.

Rage and disgust flooded through me. With all the strength I had left, I shoved him away and slapped him across the face.

The room went still for a fraction of a second.

Then, his eyes darkened.

The enraged Jonathan also rushed not to show weakness and without hesitation, he grabbed the glass bottle from the table and hurled it at me.

BANG!!!

Pain exploded across my forehead as warm blood trickled down my face.

Jonathan froze for a split second and subconsciously came over to assist me.

“Why don't you know how to dodge—?” he muttered under his breath.

I stumbled back a few steps, trying to find my footing, trying to form words—but my body gave out first. The world blurred, then faded into black.

I don't know how long it took, but the sound of Jonathan and Grandpa’s arguing woke me up.

Opening my eyes, I found myself in a hospital bed once more.

Seeing me awake, Jonathan seemed relieved.

He looked at his grandpa with a face full of unhappiness.

“This is the wife you chose for me? She can’t even sit through her confinement period properly before running off to a date.”

The old man trembled with rage. “A date? Do you even know what Zara went for yesterday—”

I cut in before he could continue. “Grandpa.”

I cut off Grandpa before he could say another word.

"It's all in the past."

He understood what I meant and didn't say anything more, though his expression was full of disappointment as he looked at Jonathan.

Jonathan, however, remained indifferent. He shrugged. "She is awake now, so there's nothing left for me to do here. Lily is still waiting for me. I'm leaving."

Grandpa’s cane swung down hard. "You bastard!"

"I don’t care where you go today, but tomorrow, you and Zara must come to the old mansion—"

Before the words were finished, Jonathan's figure had already disappeared in the doorway.

Grandpa let out a heavy sigh, his back became more and more hunched. He handed me a divorce agreement that was already signed.

"Zara, failing to raise him properly is my fault," he said, his voice laced with regret. "But that child is also your own flesh and blood. I hope you can send him off properly."

I looked at the old man with his full head of white hair and couldn’t bring myself to refuse in the end.

***

The next morning, dressed in black, I arrived at the Richards Family’s old mansion.

This child was one I had risked my life to bring into the world. It's a pity that I didn't even have time to hold him for a while and then I was already separated forever.

I wiped away the tear slipping down my cheek. Perhaps this was for the best. If I had something to hold onto, it would make leaving all the more difficult.

I had tried my all best in this marriage. Leaving now, I felt only exhaustion—no regrets.

Even as my child was laid to the ground, Jonathan never showed up.

Instead, I saw his name trending online—photos of him and Lily trying on wedding attire.

Moments later, a smug message arrived from Lily herself.

Lily Patricia: [So what if you had his child? In the end, Jonathan Richards still chose me.]

Lily Patricia: [Oh, and by the way, did you think that Richards was the one taking care of you while you were unconscious? Not at all. He was with me the whole time. In fact, we were in the next hospital bed next to yours, trying out some new positions.]

The video she sent painted a stark contrast of my deathly pale face against her rosy, satisfied glow.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I quietly forwarded all the messages and videos to Grandpa.

Then, I took off my wedding ring and, holding my mother's ashes, whispered, "Mom, let's go home."

Night had fallen by the time Jonathan returned to the Richards Family's old mansion with a body full of alcohol.

The moment he pushed open the door, he was met with a room full of funeral wreaths. He jolted in shock.

"Who died? Could it be Zara's mom?" His face went pale as panic set in. "Why didn't anyone tell me sooner? Where's Zara? She must be heartbroken. I should go to her."

Jonathan’s grandpa had finally had enough. He flung the divorce agreement at Jonathan's face.

"Zara already left, taking her mother’s ashes with her."

"Today is your son's seventh-day memorial!"