Chapter 2

Tears swam in my eyes, but I desperately held them back.

When I opened the door, Mom was propped up in bed. She immediately reached for my hand.

"Claire, you're staying home for good this time, aren't you?"

She paused, her cloudy eyes filled with concern.

"I used to worry when you told me that young man came from a poor family, but after getting sick this time, I've had a change of heart. You two love each other so much. As long as you're together, that's what matters most."

She unclasped the necklace around her neck.

"Take this. Your grandmother gave it to me years ago. It should be worth a fair bit. If he doesn't have enough money to marry you, or if he needs capital to start his own business, you can sell it. I don't need anything. I just want to see you happy. Okay, Claire?"

I bit down hard on my lip, but the tears spilled over anyway.

"Mom, I'll go get you some water."

I left the room as if fleeing.

It was the middle of summer, yet the air conditioning in the hallway chilled me to the bone.

I had no idea how I made it to the hospital entrance. The sunlight was blinding. Through my daze, I spotted a black Rolls-Royce parked at the foot of the steps.

The door opened. Blake carefully helped Ivy into the car. He was smiling at her with a tenderness he'd never once shown me.

As if I were possessed, I flagged down a cab and followed them. It stopped in front of the most luxurious estate in the city.

I'd once looked up property prices there online. Even the cheapest homes started at more than 30,000 dollars per square meter.

And it wasn't the type of place you could buy just because you had money. Only the ultrawealthy or people with powerful connections could even get through those gates.

Meanwhile, I'd been foolishly believing that Blake and I were saving every penny together. We'd hoped to buy a tiny home of our own someday, even if it was only a few hundred square feet.

Thinking back to it now made me want to laugh.

One car after another pulled into the estate. Whenever a trunk was opened, workers unloaded luxury women's products and baby supplies.

The logos belonged to brands I'd only ever admired from outside department store windows. I never dared to even walk into those stores.

Just then, a soccer ball came flying toward my head without warning.

I stumbled back and looked up. A little boy around three or four years old stood a distance away. He stared at me arrogantly with his hands on his hips.

"Who are you? Why are you standing outside my house?"

I froze.

His face, eyes, and even the shape of his face were almost the spitting image of Blake.

I opened my mouth, but it felt like something was lodged in my throat.

"Are you—"

Before I could finish, the boy lifted his chin proudly. "My name is Matt Grayson! My dad is Blake Grayson, and my mom is Ivy Smith! But…"

He paused, a hint of sadness crossing his little face. "Mom is having another baby, so no one has time to play with me anymore. Will you play with me?"

It felt as though something had exploded inside my head.

Another baby.

She wasn't just pregnant. It was already their second child.

What about me then?

What about all the love I'd given Blake over the past five years?

Across the lawn, Blake seemed to notice the commotion and was just about to turn and look in our direction.

As if burned, I spun around and ran. I wasn't ready to face them.

Maybe Ivy had been deceived by Blake too. I didn't want to cause a scene until I knew the truth.

I ran frantically to the roadside and held a streetlight, gasping for breath.

My phone suddenly vibrated. It was a message from Blake.

"Claire, where are you? Are you back home?"

I stared at the words on the screen, my fingers trembling.

"What? Are you afraid I'll discover something you've been hiding if I come back?"

His reply came almost immediately.

"You're going to be my Mrs. Grayson. How could I possibly hide anything from you?

"I just miss you. I'm sorry. I've been so busy with work lately and haven't had time for you. Just wait a little longer. Once I've saved enough money, we'll get married, okay?"

We'll get married.

How desperately I'd once longed to hear those words.

Every time he said them, I'd be so moved that I could barely contain myself.

Yet every time I made up my mind to return home and marry him, he'd find another excuse to put it off.

He was too busy with work. He hadn't saved enough money. He wanted to give me a better life.

I told him countless times that I didn't need anything. All I wanted was him.

But time and time again, he'd soothe me. "No. I want my wife to have everything everyone else has."

What touching words.

Now, they became a knife, stabbing into my heart again and again.