Chapter 4

Over the next five days, Lucius came to the hospital to see me from time to time.

To my surprise, I even saw in him a sense of responsibility—as a husband, and as a father.

In three years of marriage, those five days were the only time we resembled a normal couple.

That illusion lasted until the night before my discharge, when he walked into the ward with Maisie's hand looped through his arm.

"Adele, I heard you're pregnant. Congratulations," she said.

Her tone was light, but her pupils flickered sharply.

I knew that look.

Every time she planned to hurt me, she wore that same expression.

Instinctively, I covered my stomach and spoke in an icy voice. "What are you doing here?"

Hearing the hostility in my tone, Lucius sighed.

"Maisie is just worried about you. Adele, why are you being so aggressive?"

"Shouldn't I be?" I let out a cold laugh. "She's bullied me since we were children. And now, she's even stolen my husband."

"Adele!" Lucius raised his voice. "Stop talking nonsense. Maisie already told me everything. She never tried to bully you. You've been jealous all along—jealous that she's prettier and more popular—so you made up these lies!"

I stared at him in disbelief. "You… what did you just say?"

The next second, I yanked up my sleeve, exposing the ugly scar on my arm.

"Then what about this? Is this fake too?!"

Lucius froze.

Maisie let out a soft laugh.

"I remember that scar. You got it back in school when you went out fighting with some street thugs. And now you want to pin it on me?"

It was as if Lucius had finally found something to cling to.

"Adele! Stop treating Maisie so badly. I'll let the previous rumors slide for the baby's sake," he said, "but from now on, you'd better—"

"Get out! Get out of here!"

I screamed until my throat tore, hurling a vase at Lucius.

Shards slashed his forehead. He covered his bleeding face and muttered under his breath, "Crazy."

That single word struck my heart like a blunt weapon.

After they left, I curled into myself, my abdomen wracked with pain.

When the medical staff rushed in and saw the blood-soaked bed, they turned pale.

"What on earth did Mr. Martin do? He warned us to take good care of his wife, yet he tortured her like this himself."

"Honestly… I even envied her before…"

Amid their murmurs, I was wheeled into the operating room once again.

In that moment, I suddenly wished the baby wouldn't survive.

That way, it would never have to know it had such a terrible father.

When I opened my eyes again, I was met with the radiant smiles of the medical staff.

They excitedly told me the baby was still alive and strong.

But I couldn't bring myself to smile.