Not long after Logan left, my adoptive father called.

“So, you’re refusing to raise Leah’s child?”

So that was it. Logan had gone running to them, playing the victim. Turns out, they were all in on it, conspiring together to deceive me like I was nothing.

But I had already been kicked out by the Ellis family three years ago. What right did they have to meddle in my life now?

“This is my business,” I replied coldly. “It has nothing to do with you.”

My adoptive father’s voice exploded through the phone. “You ungrateful wretch! How dare you speak to me like that!”

Then my adoptive mother took over, her tone softer but her words just as cruel.

“Leah’s not married. She can’t raise the child on her own. And since you can’t have children anyway, raising it would be a blessing for you both.”

“I don’t have a sister,” I said flatly. “And whether I can have children or not, it’s none of your concern.”

“Don’t be ungrateful!” my adoptive father roared. “If Leah wasn’t unwilling to get rid of the baby, do you really think this kind of ‘opportunity’ would fall to you? Don’t forget, you owe her!”

I never understood what exactly did I owe her? Did I have to keep losing everything just to settle a debt I never agreed to?

My adoptive father kept yelling on the other end, but I ended the call and blocked their numbers without hesitation.

In a week, I would be gone. And with that, they'd be out of my life for good.

The next day, I stepped out briefly. When I returned, the house had completely changed.

Every wall used to be adorned with Logan’s paintings, each one crafted with me quietly by his side, watching his brush glide across the canvas, stroke by stroke.

Now, the walls were bare. Empty. Lifeless. My memories vanished.

A maid walked past and muttered, “Sir brought Miss Leah home. She said the paintings made her uncomfortable and might not be good for the baby. So Sir ordered them all moved to the basement.”

I didn’t stop to ask anything more. I ran.

Down in the basement, I found what remained of my love, ripped apart, shredded beyond repair. My hands trembled as I sifted through the pieces, one painting after another. Torn slashed and destroyed.

And then I realized that one was missing.

I rushed back upstairs and ran right into Leah on the staircase.

Seeing me, she curled her lips into a mocking smile. “Sister, looking for this?”

It was a painting I had done of Logan resting in the sunlight, peacefully sketching beside me.

It used to be the image I cherished most.

“Give it back to me.”

Leah tilted her head. “You really do paint well, sister. In the future, make a few more for my baby!”

The moment she mentioned the baby, a stabbing pain shot through my chest. “I will not raise your child.”

Her smile twisted into something cruel. “You’re just a barren hen clinging to Logan, and you're still not satisfied! If I hadn’t come back, you wouldn't have even had the chance to marry him. Now we ask you to raise my child, and you dare act ungrateful?”

I let out a cold laugh. “Oh, so you do know what shame is? Living under the same roof as me and my husband, pregnant with another man’s child, is that your idea of dignity?”

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she smugly patted her belly. “How do you know the baby isn’t Logan’s?”

Her smug attitude made my stomach turn. I didn’t want to argue anymore. I simply stretched out my hand.

“Give the painting back.”

To my surprise, Leah actually handed it over.

But the very next second, she let out a shrill scream and suddenly tumbled backward.

“Leah!” Logan appeared out of nowhere, catching her in his arms.

Before I could even make sense of what had happened, he turned and kicked me hard.

“Cecilia! How could you be so cruel? You knew she was pregnant and still pushed her?”

I hit the floor with a sharp thud. The pain made it nearly impossible to breathe, let alone speak.

“I didn’t…”

“Don’t blame her,” Leah cut in sweetly, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “It’s my fault. She must be upset because I’m pregnant. Maybe she just lost control.”

Logan took the paper, glanced at it, and his fury reignited. He shredded it on the spot and flung the pieces in my face.

“You’re still faking a pregnancy to trick me? I’m warning you. You apologize to Leah right now!”

I stared at the man I once loved, stunned. My mind felt numb as I dropped to my knees, fumbling through the torn scraps, grabbing hold of a corner like it could somehow make this all make sense.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and the pain made my voice tremble.

“Look closely; the date on the report is yesterday. I didn’t even know about your plan back then!”

Logan sneered, his voice cold. “You’ve really committed to this act, and you even remembered to backdate the report. Do you think that’ll actually make me believe you?”

“You disgust me even more.”

Leah gently stroked his chest and whispered, “Don’t be mad, Logan. I’m not feeling well. Can you carry me upstairs to rest?”

I tried to move, but a sharp pain shot through my foot.

“Logan, my foot, it’s hurt.”

I reached out to grab his sleeve, only to be shoved away.

He lifted Leah into his arms, looking down at me with scorn.

“Stop pretending. You’re not even pregnant, so why act so pathetic?”

After they left, a servant came over to help me up.

But his gaze held thinly veiled disapproval. “Madam, it might not be right for Sir to bring Miss Leah back, but you two still need a child. Can’t you just endure it?”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Even you think this is my fault?”

He lowered his head, avoiding my eyes.

Then he picked up the fallen painting and handed it to me.

“Miss Leah will be staying in the master bedroom. Sir has ordered your things to be packed. Since your foot is injured and it's hard for you to climb the stairs, you’ll stay in the guest room downstairs for now.”

The frame was cracked in several places, completely beyond repair.

Looking around at what used to be the love nest between Logan and me, I let out a bitter smile.

“It seems this house no longer has a place for me.”

That was fine. I’d be gone in less than a week anyway. I didn’t want to leave behind even a trace of attachment.

That night, I took the divorce agreement and made my way upstairs.

The study door was open. I saw Leah sitting on Logan’s lap.

He gently pinched her cheek.

“I thought you weren’t feeling well. Why aren’t you resting in bed?”

“I missed you,” Leah murmured sweetly, rubbing her face against my husband’s hand, drawing him into a deep kiss.

I let out a quiet sound. The two of them quickly pulled apart and looked toward me.

A flicker of triumph flashed in Leah’s eyes, while Logan actually looked slightly guilty.

He let go of her and stepped toward me.

“Cecilia, don’t misunderstand. Leah wasn’t feeling well, and I was worried she had a fever…”

It's such a weak excuse; it almost made me laugh.

I asked coldly, “You check for a fever by kissing her?”

Logan faltered, then stiffened his expression.

“When did you become so aggressive?”

He remembered the argument we had yesterday. After that, he received a call from Lewis.

“How’s it going?”

Logan knew exactly what the man was referring to: the bet. But he wasn’t willing to admit defeat, nor was he willing to let Lewis get near his wife.

So he lied.

“Everything’s going smoothly. Cecilia even volunteered to bring Leah home and care for the baby.”

With his friends cheering in the background, he made up his mind to turn that lie into truth.

On one hand, he did want to witness his child’s growth. On the other, his wife had grown increasingly disobedient, even daring to talk back. In his mind, she needed to be taught a lesson.

That thought gave him confidence, and he began berating me.

“If you hadn’t pushed Leah, she wouldn’t be feeling unwell! She even said she doesn’t need your apology. You should be grateful.”

I had no energy to argue about such filth. My mind was already elsewhere on how to make him sign.

Logan mistook my silence as guilt. Feeling triumphant, his tone softened.

“Cecilia, I know you’re upset. Just endure it for now. Once the baby is born, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Until then, Leah will depend on you to care for her. If there’s anything you want, just ask, and I’ll give it to you.”

Though everything he said made me sick, that final sentence landed exactly where I wanted.

I turned to the last page of the divorce agreement and placed it before him.

“Sign this.”

“What is this…”

“Logan.”

Just as Logan reached for the agreement, Leah’s sudden moan cut through the air. He turned instantly.

“Leah, what’s wrong?”

Tears welled in her eyes as she reached for him. “My stomach hurts… Logan, the baby…”

Without hesitation, he spun toward her. I quickly grabbed his sleeve.

He moved so fast that I lost my balance, pain exploded through my injured foot, and my vision blurred for a second.

Clenching my teeth, I demanded, “Sign it first!”

His face twisted in rage. “Leah’s stomach hurts, and you still care about this? That’s your child too! You heartless woman, are you wishing for…”

“Sign!” I shouted, cutting him off, refusing to let go of his sleeve.

He threw me a venomous glare and snatched the pen.

“There! Happy now? Don’t cause any more trouble.”

Before he even finished speaking, he had already rushed to Leah and scooped her into his arms.

“I’m taking you to the hospital now.”

As he passed the doorway, he shoved me aside without hesitation. I stumbled and crashed to the floor. Pain shot through my foot like a blade. I gasped out loud, unable to hold back the cry.

Logan didn’t even glance back.

But the woman in his arms turned to look at me, eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction.

She was gloating. Between her and me, Logan had made his choice. And he would always choose her.

But maybe my heart had already shattered beyond repair because even her triumphant stare no longer hurt.

I lowered my gaze to the divorce agreement in my hand and whispered silently to myself that I didn’t need Logan’s affection anymore. In five days, I would disappear from his life for good.

Late that night, a sharp pain twisted through my lower abdomen, wrenching me from sleep.

I couldn’t take any risks, not with this child. The housekeeper had taken leave, and with no one else around, I had no choice but to call Logan.

He declined the call. Moments later, a message lit up my screen: [You’re disturbing Leah’s rest.]

I tried calling again, desperate, but this time, I saw I’d been blocked.

Left with no other option, I booked a car and paid extra for the driver to come inside and help me out.

Even getting from my bed to the front door felt like crawling through glass. Every step sent fresh waves of pain shooting through my foot.

At the hospital, the doctor’s diagnosis was grim. My injury needed rest, and there were early signs of a threatened miscarriage. I had to be admitted for a few days.

For three days, I stayed there, quiet and still, trying not to move or think too much.

Then, on the morning of my discharge, my phone rang.

It was Logan calling for the first time since he’d blocked me. He said the family at the old residence wanted us to return for a visit.

“Hurry and pack up. I’m coming to pick you up.”

“I’m not at home.”

Logan sneered, “Out this early? Where did you sneak off to last night?”

“I’m at the hospital. Call me when you arrive.” I ended the call without waiting for a reply.

So, while I was lying in a hospital bed, those two had been out enjoying themselves.

I forced myself to swallow the ache in my chest. It didn’t matter anymore; it was almost time to leave.

I’d play the role of Logan’s wife just one last time.

Not long after, he called again, rushing me to come downstairs. I went down immediately, only to be left standing in the cold wind for half an hour.

Another twenty minutes crawled by before his car finally pulled up in front of me.

The window rolled down, and there she was, Leah, seated in what used to be my place.

A smug smile played on her lips. “So Sister really was in the hospital. We thought you were lying again, so we turned back to pick you up. What a waste of a trip. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Sister, I’m going to the old residence with you today. The child in my belly will be part of the Ellis family, too, so it’s a good time to meet everyone! But I get carsick sitting in the back, so I took your usual seat. You’re not mad, are you?”

I didn’t respond. My gaze fell on Logan. “You’re really taking her?”

He knew better. Although the Ellis and Gibson families had long-standing ties, Grandpa Ethan had always disliked my adoptive parents’ side. Logan was well aware of that.

Yet he avoided my eyes and didn’t answer.

“Get in.”

I said nothing more and quietly slid into the back seat.

As we passed the security booth near the old residence, the guard greeted the front seat as always, “Mr. Gibson, Madam Gibson!”

Logan’s face darkened immediately. “Watch your mouth. Are you blind?”

In the front seat, Leah, already imagining herself as the rightful Madam Gibson, stiffened.

The guard stammered, quickly bowing. “Sorry! I just… Madam Gibson always sat in the front. I thought it was still her…”

There was a heavy pause before Logan spoke again.

“Get out of the car.”

Leah’s eyes sparkled with smug delight as she glanced back at me.

There was still nearly a kilometer between us and the old residence. With my injured foot, walking that distance might leave me crippled. I had no choice. I’d get out first and figure things out later. I drew in a breath, closed my eyes, and reached for the door.

“What are you doing?” Logan nearly shouted. “Did I tell you to move? Sit still!”

Then he turned to Leah, his voice softening. “You get out first. Today isn’t the day for you to be here.”

No matter how much Leah pouted and acted sweet, she was still made to leave the car.

The engine started again. Silence blanketed the space.

Logan was the first to speak. “Why were you in the hospital? When did you go?”

I ignored his first question. “The night you blocked my number.”

He caught my gaze in the rearview mirror and suddenly laughed. “What, trying to win sympathy?”

I laughed, too. He always found new ways to let me down.

He stared through the mirror and added, “I know you’ve been in a mood lately, but stop playing games. As long as you behave, you’ll always be Madam Gibson.”

I turned away and said quietly, “Keep your eyes on the road.”

That night, we were to stay at the old residence.

The moment Logan stepped into the room, I nearly bolted. Just a week ago, we shared this bed, and now, it feels like a relic from another lifetime.

He seemed to be in good spirits, pulling me gently to sit at the edge of the bed, his fingers threading softly through my hair.

“Grandpa said that if we have a child, he’ll hand the company to me.”

Then he wrapped his arms around me. “Cecilia, only if Leah’s baby becomes ours can I give you the life you deserve. Trust me, I’ll give you the world.”

My stomach turned. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I pushed him away and rushed to the bathroom to vomit.

When I came out, he was already gone.

On my phone, two messages blinked on the screen.

[Leah’s not feeling well. I need to check on her.]

[Tomorrow is her birthday. She invited you to the party, don’t be late.]

Early the next morning, I went home alone.

That afternoon, I would leave for good. This would be my final time stepping through these doors.

I wiped away every last trace of myself from the house, then walked down to the basement to glance at my paintings one final time.

When I had painted that portrait of Logan, I truly believed I was cherished.

But in the end, I had only been fooled.

Logan, you’ll never get the chance to lie to me again.

We’ll never cross paths again.