Chapter 2

"Lauren, are you in there? Are you okay?"

Adrian’s knock on the bathroom door was gentle, and his voice was perfectly steady, showing no cracks.

I quickly typed the confirmation I’d sent earlier, then forced myself to step out, masking the storm inside me. I looked at him carefully, every word measured.

"I’m fine. I just feel a little nauseous. Adrian, do you think I might be pregnant?"

His face changed instantly. "Impossible!"

I blinked.

He recovered a second later, covering his reaction with a soft sigh. "I mean, your health hasn’t been good. We don’t need a child at the cost of your well-being. I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt."

It was true that my health had been fragile. We’d been married for years without conceiving. His mother had even taken me to see doctors several times, all of whom concluded it was difficult for me to conceive and that I would need long-term treatment.

Back then, Adrian had flown into a rage over it. "Lauren is my wife. Whether she bears children or not, she will always be my wife. Nothing matters more than her health!"

I had been moved to tears.

Now I saw it differently. He hadn’t been protecting me. I had simply given him and Chloe the perfect cover. Adrian played the good man so well.

Although his expression smoothed over quickly, I had already seen that flicker, and it was enough to drop my heart into a pit.

If this had been before, I would have melted into his arms, grateful beyond measure. However, now I could only force a smile and take two steps back. In the process, I knocked over a vase.

It shattered across the floor. We both froze.

That vase had been something we’d constructed together, and our initials were carved into the base.

Adrian rushed forward, gripping my arm. He brushed a hand over my cheek as if nothing else mattered. "It’s alright. I’ll buy you another one. Lauren, I know you’ve blamed yourself all this time for not being able to conceive. If you can’t, then we won’t. We’ll just adopt."

He paused, then spoke carefully, "I have a friend abroad. His whole family died in an accident, leaving behind a two-year-old boy. Lauren, you’ll love him."

Love your child with another woman?

I let out a cold laugh and shot back, "Funny… I didn’t know you had such a friend. And what if I don’t want to adopt?"

For just a moment, he snapped. His hand tightened around my wrist, bruising. "Lauren, this isn’t up for discussion."

His tone was sharp, final. "The Foster family needs an heir. This isn’t the time for stubbornness. Tomorrow, Liam will arrive. Show some dignity as Mrs. Foster."

His words were half encouragement, half threat. He patted my shoulder, then turned and left.

At the bend of the staircase, I watched him eagerly dial his phone, his lips curling into a rare, genuine smile.

"Hey, Chloe…"

The name drifted faintly back to me. My stomach lurched violently. I doubled over the sink, gagging and retching until I could breathe again.

So even the baby knew the truth, that this house had never welcomed me.

I placed my hand over my abdomen, whispering to the fragile life within me, 'It’s alright. Even without a father, I’ll bring you into this world. I’ll raise you well. You’ll never be less than anyone else’s child.'

"Mrs. Foster, it’s time for your medicine."

The housekeeper stepped in with a glass of water. I waved her away, suddenly finding the pills repulsive.

Adrian had always told me these were specially formulated supplements, tailored to my body by experts. He’d insisted that if I kept taking them, my health would improve and my chances of conceiving would grow.

I picked up one of the tablets, studying it closely. On the side, faint letters were etched into the coating.

My heart pounded as I looked them up.

They weren’t supplements. They were birth control pills. On top of that, taken long-term, they caused significant side effects.

Adrian had been feeding me poison for nearly six years.

Last month, frustrated and weary, I’d started flushing the pills down the toilet without telling anyone. I’d even clung to Adrian more than usual at night. That must have been when this child was conceived.

The icy realization seeped into every bone of my body. I wasn’t infertile. Adrian had simply never wanted me to get pregnant.

Throughout nearly a decade of knowing him and six years of marriage, I had always given him absolute trust and devotion.

I thought that even if he grew tired of me or the passion faded, he would never deliberately hurt me.

Alas, he had. Not only had he done it, but he had made me feel grateful, guilty, and dependent on him.

If not for those pills, maybe my health would have already recovered, and perhaps my child would already be running through this house.

I finally couldn't bear it anymore and burst into tears.