When the Secret is Revealed, Your Regret Is Too Late

At Adam’s annual jewelry launch, I was shoved hard by Christopher Adam’s companion, Lisa Goodrem, and collapsed onto the cold, polished floor.

She didn’t stop there. With her 10-centimeter high heels, she stepped directly on my swollen belly. A sharp, searing pain shot through me. The next moment, a deep crimson stain spread across the hem of my white dress.

Christopher glanced at me sideways, his expression indifferent, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

“You’re pregnant, yet instead of staying home to care for the baby, you come out to put on a show?” His voice dripped with disdain. “Did you come looking for Liz again? Tch. How unlucky—your blood has dirtied the carpet. What an eyesore.”

With that, he turned on his heel, wrapping his arm around Lisa’s waist and left without a second glance.

Not even the piercing sound of the ambulance sirens made him look back.

The sterile chill of medical equipment invaded my body. And just like that, the child was gone.

Lying in the hospital bed, I placed my trembling hand over my now-empty belly.

As I stepped out of the operating room, the hospital television blared in the hallway. On the screen, Christopher held Lisa in his arms, kissing her passionately in front of a sea of flashing cameras.

A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, but it couldn’t compare to the agony in my heart.

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead and turned to the woman standing at my bedside—my mother-in-law.

“Mom,” my voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “It’s been eight years. The Adam Family’s crisis has passed. I want a divorce. Please, let me go…”

——

Before she could answer, the sharp ringing of a phone shattered the silence of the ward.

On the other end of the call, Christopher’s voice was indifferent, laced with arrogance.

“Book me a hotel room and have someone send over the lace lingerie I bought the other day. If you won’t wear it, the women outside are lining up to take your place.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but in the dead silence of the hospital room, every word struck like a dagger.

I felt my mother-in-law tense beside me. A flicker of anger crossed her weary eyes. She reached for the phone, perhaps to say something, but before she could, the call ended abruptly.

She clutched the phone tightly, then let out a long, tired sigh as she turned to me.

“Ariana, the Adam Family owes you too much.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling onto my hand as she grasped it.

“I agree. Let’s get you a divorce…”

But then she hesitated. Her voice trembled as she pleaded, “But before you go… I need to ask something of you.”

I knew what she wanted before she even spoke.

“Mom, you don’t want Christopher to know what happened eight years ago,” I murmured. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep the secret.”

At my words, my mother-in-law broke down completely, sobs wracking her frail body.

Eight years ago, the Adam Family had gone bankrupt.

Christopher’s father, crushed by debt collectors, had jumped to his death.

Their once-prosperous empire crumbled overnight.

Everyone knew how much I loved Christopher.

So when it happened, Adam’s mother had come to my home, kneeling outside my door for three days and three nights, begging me to marry her son.

In the end, I caved. My father gave his approval and I married into the Adam Family.

Not only that—my father did everything in his power to pull them back from the brink of ruin.

But that same night, I uncovered the truth behind their downfall.

It was the Goodrem Family who had orchestrated the Adam Family’s destruction.

Lisa Goodrem and her father were both involved.

But Adam’s mother didn’t want Christopher to bear the weight of that truth. She had knelt before me, begging me and my father to keep it a secret.

I understood. A mother would do anything to protect her child.

So even today, as Christopher held Lisa in his arms, pressing her beneath him, I kept my silence.

My mother-in-law pulled me into a fragile embrace, stroking my pale face with trembling hands.

“Honey… Chris doesn’t know what he’s lost. That’s his misfortune.” She wiped her tears and forced a small, bittersweet smile. “Your birthday is in seven days. After that, I’ll let you go…”

I gazed at the woman before me, her hair streaked with gray, her once-strong presence now fragile and burdened by years of regret.

Seven days.

I had endured eight years.

Seven more days wouldn’t break me.

My mother-in-law quietly left after buying me dinner, giving me one last lingering glance before stepping out of the room.

The suffocating silence settled over me once more.

Seven days.

Just seven more days.