Chapter 2

The next day, I called in sick to work.

Julian left early; he had an important academic conference to attend.

As soon as he left, I immediately hailed a cab to the biggest, most reputable hospital in the city.

I registered for appointments in both gynecology and endocrinology.

Sitting in the waiting area, my palms were sweating.

I was scared -- scared of a bad diagnosis, and also scared of finding nothing, which would make me seem overly suspicious and foolish.

"Scarlett."

When my name was called, I took a deep breath and walked in.

The doctor was a kind-looking female specialist in her fifties.

She asked about my general condition, and I answered each question.

"Doctor, I've mainly been feeling extremely tired lately, my complexion is terrible, and my hands and feet are always cold," I tried to keep my voice calm.

The doctor nodded and ordered a series of tests for me.

"First, let's do a full hormone panel and thyroid function tests, and also a comprehensive pelvic ultrasound."

Blood tests, urine tests, ultrasound.

I spent the entire morning moving between various departments at the hospital.

The wait for results was agonizingly long.

I sat on a hospital bench, watching people come and go, feeling completely lost.

If Julian really had a problem, what would I do? Were our three years of marriage nothing but a deception?

In the afternoon, the test results gradually came in.

I walked back into the specialist's office, clutching a stack of reports.

The doctor flipped through them, one by one, her brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

My heart was in my throat.

"Doctor, how is it?" I asked softly.

She looked up, her expression serious. "Your endocrine system is severely out of balance. Estrogen levels are abnormally low, and follicle-stimulating hormone is unusually high. These indicators are not typical for someone your age."

"What... what does that mean?" I was utterly confused.

"Simply put, your ovarian function is declining, and it's declining very rapidly."

The doctor's words were like a heavy hammer, striking my heart.

"How can this be? I'm only 28."

"There are many reasons for this condition, such as autoimmune diseases or genetic factors. But judging from your reports, I lean more towards one possibility."

The doctor paused, looking into my eyes, and asked, word for word, "Have you been taking any medication long-term recently?"

The exact same question as Chloe.

My blood ran cold.

"I... I only take the vitamins my husband gives me," my voice trembled.

"What does your husband do?"

"He's a renowned nutritionist."

The doctor's gaze became somewhat complex. She pushed up her glasses. "Prescribed by a nutritionist? What exactly has he been giving you?"

"Just some vitamins, grape seed, fish oil, things like that," I said, taking out the pills I'd hidden last night from my bag. "Doctor, could you please tell me what these are?"

The doctor took the pills I had wrapped in tissue paper and held them under the light, examining them carefully.

She was very thorough, even using tweezers to pick up one of the white tablets and hold it against the light.

"Just by appearance, I can't be sure what these are. This clear capsule contains powder, the yellow one looks like ordinary Vitamin B, but this white tablet has no markings. It doesn't look like a legitimate health supplement from a reputable manufacturer."

She handed the pills back to me, her tone becoming even graver. "I recommend you take these to a professional drug testing facility to analyze their components."

"Doctor, if... if I've been taking drugs that cause ovarian decline long-term, what would be the consequences?" I asked, clinging to a last shred of hope.

"Consequences?" The doctor looked at me, her eyes filled with sympathy. "The most direct consequences would be irregular periods, premature menopause, and ultimately... infertility."

Infertility.

Those two words exploded in my mind like a thunderclap.

I understood everything in that instant.

Julian and I had been married for three years and hadn't had children.

I thought it was because we were busy with work and under a lot of stress. Julian always comforted me, saying we should let nature take its course, and that he didn't care about having children as long as I was healthy.

Turns out, it wasn't that we couldn't have children.

It was him. He had been preventing me from having children all along.

I don't know how I walked out of the hospital.

The sunlight outside was blinding, but I felt utterly cold.

I hailed a cab home and locked myself in my room.

I replayed every little detail of the past three years.

His meticulous care, his gentle and thoughtful words -- they all became the most malicious mockery now.

He was "regulating" my body. Yes, regulating it into a barren wreck.

Why? Why would he do this to me?

I covered my face, finally breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably.

This seemingly perfect marriage had been a meticulously planned conspiracy from the very beginning.

And I was the most foolish prey, willingly walking into the cage he had woven for me.