Chapter 2

She said I could message her anytime if I felt unwell.

But I was afraid of bothering her, so I never sent a single message.

All the details connected in this moment.

My seven-year marriage was a joke.

In my ears, I could hear Melody's sweet, flirtatious laughter:

"You're so mean! Don't call me dumb. If I hadn't been trying to cook for you, I wouldn't have burned my hand. Instead of feeling sorry for me, you're going to 'punish' me by not letting me use my hands tonight? If you keep this up, I'm going to get mad!"

Ethan wanted to smile, but when he caught sight of me still standing nearby, his expression quickly turned cold.

"I have some things to handle at the office. I'm leaving. Deal with your son's funeral yourself and go home when you're done."

The guests had long since noticed the tension between us and were now waiting to watch the drama unfold.

Ignoring my own dignity, I shouted at his retreating back:

"If you walk out that door, we're getting divorced!"

Ethan stopped in his tracks. Seeing everyone's eyes on him, his face darkened.

"Shut up!"

"If you're not embarrassed, I am!"

"If you have something to say, say it at home. Don't make a scene here!"

I laughed like a madwoman, grabbing his collar and pointing at our son's portrait.

"Our son just died, and you can't wait to run off to your mistress and your bastard child. You're embarrassed? What right do you have to be embarrassed!"

"For seven years, you said you were busy with work, that you needed to develop business overseas. I handled everything at home alone—I was both father and mother. I could only sleep four hours a night."

"When our son had his accident, I was doing housework. I looked away for one second and he ran outside and got hit by a car. Where were you then? Talk at home? When have you ever been home!"

Tears I could no longer hold back poured down my face.

But Ethan just frowned.

"Are you done? I'm leaving."

He turned and walked away with long strides, never looking back.

The guests swarmed around me, offering hollow comfort:

"That's enough. Men are all like this. Every family has problems. Mr. Ford has such a big business—it's inevitable women throw themselves at him. Just be patient and it'll pass."

"Exactly. My husband doesn't even have money and he still chats with women. Now I just turn a blind eye. Life goes on."

They spoke words of comfort, but each one was a needle stabbing into my heart.

I wasn't made of wood—of course I'd felt Ethan's change.

In our seven-year marriage, I'd imagined countless times how our relationship might end.

But I never imagined it would cost me my son's life.

I didn't want to be laughed at anymore. I hastily ended the funeral and went home.

As soon as I walked through the door, I collapsed on the floor, drained of all strength.

With trembling hands, I opened Melody's social media feed. Only now did I realize every post had a hidden meaning.

During my last prenatal checkup, she'd posted a photo of a positive pregnancy test.

Caption:

"He says this is a surprise from heaven. The baby and I are the most important people in his life."

When I was in postpartum confinement, Ethan said he had to go on a business trip.

And during that month, Melody updated her feed almost daily.

"He says I'm more important. He doesn't know that to me, he's the most important person in the world."

"When true love comes, heaven gives you a sign. This time, I heard it."

"Thank you for leaving everything behind to be with me. I hope you'll be with me for the rest of my life."

...

I tortured myself by reading through them one by one.

Many photos included Ethan's silhouette in the background.

Back then, I never paid attention—I just assumed Melody was dating some secret boyfriend.

Looking at them now, I realized how ridiculous I'd been.