On the way home, the image of Michael tenderly supporting Rachel never left my mind.

He treasured her. He treasured their child.

The thought dragged me back to the years of marriage when I never once missed the medicine laced with abortion drugs. A wave of grief swallowed me whole.

I stumbled back to the bedroom in a daze. I packed away everything connected to him and threw it all into the trash.

I threw away the necklace he had spent a fortune to win for me, the collection of handbags he had gathered, and the silly little trinkets he had hunted down just to make me laugh.

When the garbage truck carried everything away, my emotions finally eased up a little.

No.

There was still one thing.

The moment I thought of it, I rushed to the bedroom and pulled a diary from the nightstand.

It was a diary he had prepared for me after our marriage.

Every page recorded fragments of me.

The notebook was thick, and as soon as I opened it, the pages fanned open on their own.

[Evelyn talked in her sleep again today. It sounded like a nightmare.]

[Being able to marry Evelyn is a blessing I earned over many lifetimes. We must be together forever and ever!]

Those entries were his expressions of love for me.

But even the deepest form of love turned out to be finite.

I picked up a lighter and set the diary ablaze.

Through the leaping flames, my eyes caught on a picture frame lying face down.

It had been there for years, left by Michael, and I had never touched it.

Without thinking, I turned it over.

In the photo, Rachel was smiling radiantly.

My chest clenched tight, and my eyes burned hot.

When I opened the frame, I saw small words written on the back of the photo.

[I love Michael the most. April 18, 2015]

My fingers suddenly lost their grip, and the frame slipped to the floor with a crash. My tears poured unchecked.

That had been the third day after our wedding.

So even back then, Michael was already with her.

For all those years, I had remained in the dark.

Sharp pain suddenly twisted in my lower abdomen. Wet warmth spread beneath me.

I stopped crying and reached down in confusion.

When I lifted my hand, I only saw red.

“Blood… it’s blood…”

It was not my cycle. Where had the blood come from?

In a panic, I called the butler and was rushed to the hospital.

On the way, the cramps worsened. Beads of cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

At the hospital, I forced myself to stay up through the examination.

While waiting, an inexplicable dread filled my chest.

After a while, the doctor emerged with a report.

“Ms. Jones, you have had a miscarriage.”

I felt as though I had plunged into an ice cave. My lips parted, but no sound came out. That sentence echoed endlessly in my head.

I had miscarried.

Did that mean I was actually pregnant?

But…

I grabbed the pregnancy report like a madwoman, flipping it over and over.

The doctor sighed.

“Ms. Jones, it was already very difficult for you to conceive. After this miscarriage, I fear you may never be able to conceive again.”

My hands turned ice-cold. My ears no longer heard anything. My vision dissolved into pure white.

I did not know how much time had passed when I started speaking again. I spoke in a slow, calm tone.

“Don’t tell Michael about this. Not a single person is allowed to tell him.”

When I returned home, Rachel was already waiting there.

When she saw me, she swayed her hips and deliberately pushed her stomach out with a smug look on her face.

“You knew about me a long time ago, Evelyn, didn’t you?”

I silently studied her.

Her eyes were bright. Her skin was pale, and her body was gracefully slender. We were nothing alike.

After I learned of Rachel’s existence, I had someone investigate their relationship.

They had known each other long ago, but Rachel’s humble background made his mother believe she was unworthy of Michael.

After we married, at a banquet, Michael was maliciously drugged and mistook Rachel for me. The two of them had spent a night together.

Afterwards, to take responsibility for Rachel, Michael hid her away in a villa on the outskirts of the city.

That villa cost billions. If Michael was willing to spend that much on her, then her place in his heart could not be lower than mine.

My heart ached again.

She seemed to notice my reddened eyes and grew even more brazen.

“Evelyn, everyone in Salt City thinks Michael spoils his wife as if his life depends on it, but they don’t know that the object of his affection isn’t you, it’s me.

“He goes to great lengths every day to feed you abortion drugs so he won’t have children with you. Do you know why?”

She let out a laugh.

“Of course, it’s because I told him he could only have children with one woman in this life. It’s between me and you.

“You saw it yourself. In the end, he chose me.”

As she spoke, she showed me all the things Michael had given her.

“See? You only received the things I don’t like. You only deserve my leftovers.

“Michael said that as long as you can’t have children, his mother will get tired of you. When that happens, we’ll be together as we should be.”

Her words stabbed into my heart again and again, but I realized my heart was already still.

Michael truly was a fine husband.

I forced my trembling body still and sat on the sofa.

After a long time, I finally rasped out a reply.

“If that is the case, then I will respect your choice.”

I no longer cared about being Mrs. Anderson.

I no longer cared about Michael.

Not long after Rachel left, Michael sent me a message.

[Honey, I have to take a business trip for a few days. Stay home and wait for me. Love you.]

It seemed even God was helping me.

After I packed my bags, I planed to leave and go abroad.

Michael had perhaps long forgotten the words I once said to him.

“If one day I find out the love you give me isn’t unique, then I won’t want you.”

Just before I left, the hospital called.

“Ms. Jones, you forgot to take your miscarriage recovery medicine. Do you want us to deliver it to you?”

After pondering for a moment, I said, “Mm, deliver it to Michael’s place.”

It was best for him to see it. He had finally got what he wanted.