Chapter 2

As I watched Meghan drink the chicken soup, I drifted into thought. No matter how wild Meghan used to be, she had always known where to draw the line. She had never let those men appear in front of me.

But this time, she had crossed every line for the sake of the child in her womb. She had once despised illegitimate children, yet now that she was carrying Hector's baby, she cherished it above all else.

When I didn't react, she cautiously tested the waters. "Ashton, once the baby is born, I'll have him call you 'Dad' and make him the rightful heir to the Gregory family. Is that alright?"

She didn't want her child to experience what she had, so she chose to sacrifice my dignity instead.

I smiled. "Sure."

Seeing the stunned look on her face when I agreed so readily, I felt nothing at all. After all, everything would be over in three days. Why would I care about being tricked into raising someone else's kid?

After Hector learned that his child would become the Gregory family's heir, he grew even more arrogant. Pointing at the flowering dogwood tree in the garden, he said, his smile sly, "Meghan, I don't like dogwoods. They look too old-fashioned. Roses are much prettier."

After hearing that, Meghan immediately ordered someone to cut down the dogwood tree and replace it with roses. We had planted that tree together the year my parents passed away.

At the time, she had said, "Ashton, the dogwoods will witness my love for you. I'll protect you from now on. You'll never be alone again."

As the harsh sound of the chainsaw rang out, the dogwood tree crashed to the ground. I stood by the second-floor window, staring at the broken branches and scattered leaves below. The last trace of feeling inside me faded away.

When Meghan came upstairs, she happened to see me standing by the window. She felt a rare pang of guilt, perhaps because my back looked too lonely. She walked over and hugged me from behind.

"Ashton, it's only a tree. If you like it, I'll have someone buy an estate someday and fill it with dogwoods for you," she said.

Her embrace still felt warm, but she smelled of the cologne Hector always wore. I gently pulled away and turned to look at her. "Meghan, do you remember when that tree was planted?"

Her gaze flickered for a moment. It was obvious that she had forgotten long ago. "Why bring up the past? I'm so busy now. I don't have the time to remember little things like that."

She changed the subject with a hint of impatience. "By the way, there's a charity gala tonight. You don't need to go. I'll bring Hector instead."

Seeing how self-righteous she looked, I suddenly found it funny. "You're taking a kept man with no status to an event like that. Aren't you worried people will call the baby you're carrying a bastard?"

Meghan's face darkened, and her voice turned cold. "The baby I'm carrying is the Gregory family's eldest son. He's not a bastard!"

At the mention of the word "bastard", she became visibly agitated.

Lucie was Mom's best friend. Back then, Meghan's dad, Raymond Gregory, had taken advantage of her. She became his mistress in secret and ultimately died in sorrow.

Meghan loathed the Gregory family for causing her mom to die in misery, and she despised being known as an illegitimate daughter just as much. Yet, she was now following in her father's footsteps.

I looked at her calmly. "So? Just to keep your child from being born out of wedlock, you're going to bring the baby's real father in front of me and flaunt him? Meghan, you keep saying you hate your dad, but look at yourself now. How are you any different from him?"

A sharp slap echoed through the room.

Meghan pulled her hand back. Her chest heaved, and her eyes were filled with shock. She seemed unable to believe she had actually hit me, but her anger had gotten the better of her. "Shut up! Don't you dare compare me to that old man!"

She shouted hysterically, "I'm protecting my child! I'll never let my child go through what I went through!"

I covered my numb cheek, tasting a hint of blood in my mouth.

Meghan didn't look at me again. She slammed the door and left. Before long, I heard Hector softly comforting her downstairs, and she gradually calmed down.

I walked to the mirror, looked at the red mark on my face, and pressed an ice pack against it. The mark slowly faded, while the coldness in my eyes deepened.