Chapter 1

After my four-year-old son died from illness, Ethan Ford, who had been on a business trip to Europe, finally came home.

At the funeral, he tried to console me:

"Don't worry, I won't blame you. If you want a child, I'll bring one home tomorrow."

My whole body stiffened. I looked up at him in disbelief.

"What are you talking about?"

He said nonchalantly:

"I have a child with another woman. He's only six months younger than Tommy. If you don't mind, we can bring him home and you can raise him as your own."

"Besides, the kid's mom is too young—she's like a child herself, always playing around. I'd feel better if you took care of him."

My nails dug deep into my palms, my voice trembling:

"Who is this woman?"

He smiled.

"She's a nurse from the maternity ward. When I took you to the hospital to give birth, she fell for me at first sight. We slept together in the room next to the operating room. I know I wronged you, but she was young and sexy. She came onto me first, and I couldn't resist."

"Slap—"

Before I knew what I was doing, a bright red handprint appeared on his face.

Ethan covered his swollen cheek and ran his tongue over his teeth.

"Is that really necessary? I only told you this because I thought you were too upset. If slapping me once makes you feel better, go ahead."

With that, he turned his head, offering me his other cheek.

"Go on, hit me. Why'd you stop?"

All my anger evaporated in that moment, leaving only helplessness to drown me.

My voice was hoarse as I stared at him, tears streaming down my face.

He sighed impatiently and said:

"Men cheating is pretty normal, isn't it? How many men spend their whole lives devoted to one woman?"

"Besides, I didn't even bring her home. You've lived comfortably as a rich man's wife all these years. Isn't that enough?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, blowing smoke in my face.

I suppressed my emotions and asked in a trembling voice:

"Then why are you telling me now? Why tell me the truth right after my son just died! You've been lying to me for five years—why couldn't you just keep lying forever!"

Tears pooled in my eyes. I tilted my head back slightly, refusing to show weakness.

Ethan raised an eyebrow and suddenly laughed mockingly.

"Like I said, she's too young to take care of a kid. Now that the child's older, he needs education and parental guidance."

"Besides, your son just died. You can't handle this blow. If I bring a child home to keep you company, it'll help you move past your grief."

He crossed his arms over his chest and added carelessly:

"Two birds with one stone. Don't you think?"

Before I could respond, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen, and his expression instantly softened. He patiently typed out a reply.

Perhaps now that the truth was out, he didn't bother hiding anymore.

I glanced sideways and saw the chat name: "My Only Treasure."

I stared at that profile picture for a long time.

The same picture existed in my own chat list.

During my third trimester checkup, a nurse named Melody Smith said I reminded her of her sister.

Her sister had died from complications during childbirth, and Melody had lost her last family member.

Out of sympathy, I added her on SnapChat.