Chapter 2

Half a year ago already seemed like such a distant time.

On the eve of Carla's due date, she insisted on going on a business trip out of town after receiving a phone call.

I desperately tried to stop her. Even if she ran me over with her car, I still refused to give up.

Sure enough, her water broke halfway there.

I was frantic. After getting her into the delivery room, I stayed outside for three whole hours.

After giving birth to Dominic, not only did she forcibly discharge herself the next day and dump Dominic on me, but she didn't come home for the entire week after that.

To care for the newborn Dominic, I stayed up day and night, exhausting myself. Coupled with a severe stomach illness I already had, I vomited in the hospital bathroom until I was practically throwing up bile.

I leaned by the door to recover for two minutes, only to hear my mother-in-law, Susan Middleton, chastising Carla. She spoke in a lowered voice in the hallway just on the other side of the door.

"Carla, how can you even call yourself a mother? Max hasn't slept for days taking care of Dominic. What are you even doing out there that you can't come back and see him?

"Do you have any idea how much Max has suffered? Aren't you even a little curious about what your own son looks like?"

The other end of the phone was silent for two seconds, as if Carla were thinking about what Dominic looked like.

My hand tightened on the door handle. I was also quite curious what our son was supposed to look like in Carla's mind.

Suddenly, Carla spoke up. "Max has big eyes and is handsome, so our son is bound to be good-looking too. I just hope he doesn't end up with Max's temper and extreme personality."

Her tone was airy and light, as if mentioning me was like bringing up a nuisance she couldn't be bothered with.

"Mom, you're the one who likes Max, not me. You're also the one who forced me to marry him and have kids. I don't like Max, and I can't bring myself to feel much love for the baby either.

"Before I even gave birth, hadn't you already hired the finest nanny and a fancy nutritionist to prepare meals? What else do you need me for?"

I stood frozen at the door, my heart sinking as though it had been plunged into the sea.

After Dominic's sip-and-see party, I still couldn't help but drive to where Carla was on her business trip. It was just in the next city over.

I heard she had signed a male painter and was holding an art exhibition by the sea.

I stood in front of the largest painting on display in the gallery. It was the side profile of a person, dressed in a dark gray coat.

Behind her frameless glasses, her eyes were deep and gloomy, and there was a brooding weight between her brows that seemed impossible to dispel.

I stood dumbfounded in place.

It wasn't just because I recognized that the person in the painting was Carla, but also because I discovered that the painting was titled "Thinking of Carla", and the painter was Fred Reilly.

I remembered his name.

Carla had a blacked-out group photo tucked in the book she often read, and the name on the back was none other than Fred Reilly.

I stood before the huge portrait. The Carla in the painting was almost as tall as I was.

It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart, and the sounds around me gradually faded away.

I heard footsteps stop behind me.

I forced my utterly exhausted body—worn down from days without sleep—to turn around.

What little color was left in my pale face drained away at once, and just like that I fell into Carla's line of sight.

"Who told you I was here?" she asked.