Chapter 2

I stood in front of the familiar front door as memories from four years ago flashed back.

It was supposed to be the day I accompanied her to her prenatal checkup. However, when I pushed open the master bedroom door, I found my best friend, Alan, on top of her, the two of them tangled together in bed.

Our wedding photo sat on the nightstand, my happily smiling face smeared with filthy stains. As they thrashed around in bed, the frame fell onto the floor and shattered.

Alan suddenly paused, staring at Megan's pregnant belly with a flash of concern in his eyes. "Henry is an orphan. He values you and the baby more than his own life.

"When you were kidnapped by your enemies early in your pregnancy, he risked his life to save you. He was tortured in captivity and ended up with severe depression.

"Do you really want me to keep going hard and make you lose the baby?"

Megan looked at her pregnant belly, clearly annoyed. Then, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"If it's not your baby, I'm not having it. Henry trusts us a lot. I'll just tell him I had a bad fall, and he will believe me."

Her words shattered my heart as the blood stained the sheets.

On that day, I lost the three most important people in my life—my childhood sweetheart, a friend whom I saw as family, and the child I had been waiting for three years.

That familiar sense of suffocation hit me again. My hand trembled uncontrollably as I entered the passcode.

I entered my birthday. It was wrong.

Then, I entered Megan's birthday. It was wrong again.

I had one last try. My hands trembled as I entered Alan's birthday.

The lock clicked open.

I pushed the door open in a daze, but I froze the moment I saw the room.

Megan had restored the house I destroyed during my breakdown four years ago. She took the floor plan I had spent six months designing for us and built a home for Alan.

The wall where our wedding photo used to hang was now covered with Alan's pictures. There were pictures of him eating, sleeping, and cooking with his arm wrapped around Megan's waist.

Every picture was filled with the tender love of the person who photographed it.

I couldn't figure out how this happened.

For the past four years, Megan had video-called me every time she went out. How had she managed to spend every day with Alan behind my back?

My future self sneered from the other end of the call.

"Four years ago, Megan didn't want you to be sad, so she moved the baby's ashes here. Then, she used visiting the baby as an excuse to build a home here with Alan.

"Take a closer look at the pictures on the wall. The oldest ones are from ten years ago."

I froze as I stared at one of the pictures. It was a picture of them kissing on my birthday ten years ago.

That was when Megan and I made our relationship official. Around that same time, I saved Alan from nearly being beaten to death by his creditors.

The two of them had ordered birthday cakes for me from the same bakery. As they were rushing back to surprise me, they got caught in a sudden downpour.

That night, I ran all over the city with two umbrellas, looking for them in the heavy rain while they talked about everything—from life to dreams. That was when they slowly fell for each other.

At that time, I was only worried about them catching a cold. I was too blind to notice the suppressed longing they held in their eyes for each other.

So, it wasn't just four years. This love I thought could be mended had been rotten from the very start.

My body felt cold. I was trembling. It was as if a hole had opened in my chest.

I held my child's ashes close, unable to bear to stay in this house any longer.

Just as I was about to leave, I suddenly heard voices coming from downstairs.

Pauline Jones was among them—a friend I'd grown up with in the orphanage for 20 years, and who had been a mutual friend to Megan and me for ten.

She stood beside Alan, who was holding a baby, and showered the baby with well-wishes.

Even though Megan was smiling, she kept glancing at her phone.

Alan pursed his lips and wrapped his arm around her. "Megan, we're legally married and have a child together now. Why don't we just come clean with Henry? That fool has been kept in the dark for ten years. I feel bad for him."

"Telling him the truth is basically pushing him over the edge. He already tried to end his life four years ago," Megan said firmly, though the grip on her phone tightened.

"Besides, the fake marriage is enough to keep him satisfied. So, there's no need to tell him."

Her dismissive words felt like a slap across my face.

I walked out in a daze, my voice hoarse. "There's no need to make things so complicated. I'm done being your husband."