Chapter 2

These memories only started piecing together bit by bit after I stopped taking psychiatric medication during my pregnancy.

Because of the love and warmth Quinton gave me, I was unwilling to dig into the painful past. But now, I've become a complete joke.

While Quinton was at work, I secretly went to consult a doctor, only to find out that my condition was more like the result of multiple deep hypnosis sessions.

When I got home, Quinton was sitting on the couch with a dark expression, surrounded by cigarette ends.

I pretended as if nothing had happened and hung up my bag. "Didn't we agree to no smoking in the house? Secondhand smoke is bad for the baby."

Quinton walked over and grabbed my arm. His veins bulged on the back of his hand as he did so.

He asked coldly, "You went to see a doctor?"

"What's wrong?" I replied, feigning composure.

"What? I'm a doctor, yet you went to someone else? You don't trust me?" he asked, his tone full of resentment.

I was about to answer when he suddenly scooped me up and silently carried me to the couch.

I took the opportunity to explain, "Aren't you busy? I just had a headache, and I can't take medicine, so I went to get a massage from the doctor."

He placed me on the couch and quickly removed my prosthetic leg, lowering his head to gently massage my stump.

I had no idea what he was thinking, so I said nothing.

Finally, he looked up at me and said, "If you really don't feel well, you should take care of yourself first. Should I prescribe you some medicine?"

"What nonsense are you talking about? The baby is already six months old. I can't take medicine! For the child, I'm willing to do anything, and so will you, right?" I shot back.

I cupped his face and tried to look into his eyes. But he pulled me into his arms and turned his head away.

"Of course. Not just for the baby, but for you too."

I listened to his steady heartbeat as he told a blatant lie. I sniffled and forced down the bitterness I felt in my heart.

…

Quinton suddenly took a long absence from work, saying he wanted to take better care of me.

But I knew he was just trying to keep an eye on me.

I leaned against the doorframe and watched him bustling around the nursery. I felt a little dazed.

Quinton held up a stuffed toy and waved it at me. "Honey, do you think the baby will like blue?"

"Probably."

Suddenly, Quinton's phone rang. He then lied to me without batting an eye. "It's a call from a patient."

I nodded. He turned and walked into the study.

Even though he spoke in a low voice, I still heard Winnie say she missed him.

After comforting Winnie, Quinton walked out and lied to me again. "Honey, something urgent came up at home. I need to fly back for a bit."

"Okay," I said as I closed my magazine.

Upon hearing this, he kissed my forehead almost reverently. "My wife is so understanding," he remarked before leaving.

After he left, I waited until the housekeeper fell asleep and sneaked into the study. I searched for a long time before finally finding that box in a hidden cabinet.

It was a locked box that he had once opened in a drunken haze. His eyes were reddened with emotion at the time.

Inside were countless photos of him and Winnie.

One of them, slightly faded at the edges and even laminated, was a childhood picture of them with an orange cat.

Quinton had never taken a photo with me, except for our wedding picture. Previously, when I asked him to take maternity photos with me as a keepsake, he refused and said he didn't like taking pictures.

It turned out he just didn't like taking pictures with me.

My nose stung, but my eyes remained dry—no tears came out.

At the very bottom of the box, there was an envelope. I held my breath and pulled it out.

Inside was a medical report confirming necrospermia. However, the identity details were all concealed.

Regardless, my intuition told me that this was definitely related to the baby in my womb.

After taking photos of both documents, I carefully put the box back.

…

Quinton was gone for half a month.

During that time, I tried every possible way to recover my memories.