Rafael anxiously continued, “Do all girls have such bad cramps during their periods? Poor Jenna. Do you know any remedies? Should I get her medicine? Maybe red sugar water? A heating pad?”

He was terrified of causing Jenna any discomfort.

Even during my pregnancy, Rafael had never shown me this level of concern.

I couldn’t help but find our years of love utterly laughable. “Can’t you just Google it?”

With that, I hung up and ignored him.

The next morning, Rafael called me again, his tone angry. “Lily, you’ve grown bold! How dare you hang up on me?”

“I’m giving you a chance now. Come over and cook for Jenna, and I’ll forgive you.”

“Oh, and Jenna loves your sweet-and-sour spare ribs. Make sure to bring that.”

Hearing those words, a sharp pain pierced my heart.

I finally understood why, for a time, Rafael had suddenly loved the meals I brought him—especially the sweet-and-sour spare ribs.

I had naively thought he liked them. I had even practiced tirelessly, my hands became calloused and burned by splattering oil.

It turned out Jenna was the one who loved them, and he only made me cook because of her.

Wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes, I asked, “Rafael, any chef could cook better than me. Why does it have to be me?”

He ordered firmly, “Jenna said she only wants your cooking. You will come today.”

Then he hung up.

I took the divorce papers with me and went to Jenna’s place. It was time to end this farce with Rafael.

Jenna greeted me with an apologetic tone, though her words were anything but. “Sorry, Lily. I just had a sudden craving for your sweet-and-sour pork ribs. But you’re pregnant, and cooking smoke isn’t good for the baby. Yet Sir Rafael insisted on having you come to make them for me.”

Her voice was full of the favoritism Rafael showered on her, while I felt like nothing more than their maid.

Ignoring Jenna, I placed the papers in front of Rafael. “Sign this, and I’ll cook.”

Without even glancing at the document, Rafael signed it.

I asked, “Aren’t you afraid this might be a divorce agreement?”

He sneered, “So what if it is? Nothing is more important than Jenna’s happiness. Besides, you’re pregnant. You wouldn’t dare divorce me. Who else would want you?”

His dismissive attitude spoke volumes. I said nothing more and went to the kitchen to cook.

This would be the last meal that I would ever made for Rafael.

Back then, he loved my cooking. But at some point, he began to despise it.

From the kitchen, I could hear Rafael and Jenna’s laughter in the living room, their joy cutting into me like shards of glass.

When I finished cooking, my weakened body almost collapsed from exhaustion.

Instead of showing any concern, Rafael scolded me. “You’re fainting from just making a meal? Being pregnant has made you so delicate.”

“Jenna still goes to work even when she’s on her period, and she doesn’t complain. You sit at home all day—how can you say you work harder than her?”

No matter how much I sacrificed, in Rafael’s eyes, only Jenna mattered.

Jenna approached to support me. Her voice was syrupy sweet as she spoke. “Lily, thank you for your hard work. Your clothes got dirty. Let me take you to the bedroom to change.”

She led me to her room, where the floor was littered with clothes and condoms.

Flushing, Jenna feigned embarrassment and explained, “Oh, my boyfriend is just too much to handle.”

Then, as if it were an afterthought, she asked with a sly smile, “Lily, is Sir Rafael just as passionate with you?”

My expression turned icy. It was clear why Jenna had brought me here—to make me see this.

I had always thought Rafael’s reluctance was due to work stress. But now I knew the truth.

He simply didn’t want me.

Every time I approached him, he would push me away with disdain, calling me disgusting.

Even my pregnancy had been an accident caused by Rafael’s drunkenness.

Standing amidst the scattered condoms, I sneered, “Miss Jenna, perhaps you should worry about whether your boyfriend can keep up with this frequency in the future.”

Her face instantly darkened.

When we returned to the dining table, Rafael was busy piling food onto Jenna’s plate. His tone was indulgent, “Jenna, eat more.”

Jenna pouted and teased, “Sir Rafael, you’re spoiling me! How can there be such a perfect boss like you?”

Then, she turned to me with a sweet smile, placing a large spoonful of crab roe into my bowl. “Thank you, Lily, for cooking today.”

I didn’t touch my food. Jenna’s expression twisted into one of grievances, and tears began to stream down her face. “Did I upset you, Lily? Why aren’t you eating?”

Rafael’s face darkened as he glared at me. Without warning, he slapped me hard across the face. “Lily, don’t be so ungrateful!”

Grabbing my head, he shoved the crab roe into my mouth before I could resist.

By the time he was done, red welts were already spreading across my skin.

Once, Rafael had promised me he’d always remember my severe allergy to crab roe and would never let me near it. Yet now, he was the one force-feeding it to me.

Jenna, who had been smirking a moment ago, suddenly feigned fear. “Sir Rafael, Lily looks terrible. Could she have some kind of... contagious disease?”

Rafael’s gaze filled with revulsion as he looked at me. Without warning, he dragged me to the door and threw me out. “Lily, you’re disgusting.”

Kicking me aside, he sneered, “Don’t you dare dirty Jenna’s house.”

I clung weakly to his pant leg, struggling to breathe. “Rafael, please... call an ambulance... I'm begging you.”

However, his response was the slam of the door.

Fortunately, a kind stranger found me and rushed me to the hospital.

When I went to the reception desk to collect my medication, I ran into Rafael and Jenna.

Rafael shot me a disdainful glance while Jenna, gloating, said, “I told Sir Rafael it was just a minor cut, but he insisted on bringing me here to get it treated. He was worried about an infection.”

Rafael’s voice was full of concern. “A minor cut? It was bleeding. How could I not worry?”

But when I had miscarried, he hadn’t cared at all about my pain.

Looking at me, Rafael said impatiently, “It’s just an allergic reaction. Do you really need to stay in the hospital this long?”

Luckily, he didn’t know I had already terminated the pregnancy. Otherwise, his actions would have been even more cruel.

As if granting me charity, he added, “Fine. I’ll take you to your prenatal checkup later.”

Without waiting for my response, he went to the counter to register, leaving me alone with Jenna.

She sneered, her tone dripping with malice. “Rafael is so good to you. But if he truly cared, he wouldn’t have watched fireworks with me or stayed at my place.”

“Lily, you can’t win against me. Rafael loves me now. You, with your sagging skin and stretch marks, are nothing more than an old, pregnant woman he’s sick of.”

“He even said your stretch marks are revolting. Every time he sees them, he feels disgusted.”

My mind went blank. I hadn’t realized Rafael thought that way. Those stretch marks—so repulsive to him—were the only traces our child had left in this world.

Jenna smirked at me, then slapped herself hard across the face twice. Tears welled up as she cried, “Lily, I swear I didn’t seduce Sir Rafael. Please don’t hit me anymore, okay?”

“I promise I’ll stay far away from him so I won’t upset you.”

Hearing her cries, Rafael rushed back. The moment he saw Jenna’s tear-streaked face, his heart ached as if it might shatter.

His eyes blazed with fury as he looked at me. Without hesitation, he kicked me in the stomach. “Lily, is this how you treat Jenna when I’m not around?”

“We’re just colleagues! Only people with filthy minds see filth everywhere!” Rafael thundered.

I knelt on the ground in pain, clutching my abdomen as a sharp, searing ache spread through me. I felt warm blood trickling down.

Rafael wasn’t satisfied with my suffering. He pressed his foot against my back, forcing me to the floor. “Lily, apologize to Jenna!”

Jenna shot me a smug look.

Seeing me in such a pitiful state only made Rafael act more ruthlessly. He stomped on my hand.

He knew. He knew how much my hands meant to me as a pianist.

In the early years of our relationship, Rafael used to carefully massage my hands with oil every day, saying, “Lily’s hands are destined to become those of a great pianist. I’ll take care of them for you.”

Now, looking at his foot crushing my hand, all I felt was bitter irony.

“Rafael, let me go,” I said, my voice trembling.

His foot pressed harder, and I heard the sickening crack of bones breaking. Still, I lowered my head, tears streaming down my face as I whispered to Jenna, “I’m sorry.”

Only then did Rafael remove his foot. “Let this be a lesson. If you dare bully Jenna again, you’ll regret it.”

As his figure disappeared into the distance, something inside me broke completely.

—

A few days later, I stood outside the airport, preparing to leave with my teacher.

Before boarding, I sent Rafael one last message.

[Rafael, I’m leaving. I wish you and Jenna a long and happy life together.]