Chapter 3

After crying for a long time, I wiped away my tears.

Now was not the time for weakness.

I had to find out why he did this.

I also needed the most direct evidence.

The doctor was right; I needed to get those "vitamins" tested.

I opened the elegant pill organizer Julian had prepared for me.

It was divided into seven small compartments, labeled Monday to Sunday.

Each compartment was filled with colorful pills.

I counted them; he made me take nearly ten pills every morning, noon, and night.

For three whole years, how much of this unknown medication had I actually consumed?

A wave of nausea and fear washed over me.

I took a few pills from each compartment, especially the white tablets with no markings.

I sorted them into sealed bags, labeling each one.

After doing all this, I started planning my next step.

Going directly to a testing facility with these things was too risky. If Julian found out, he would become alarmed.

I needed a foolproof excuse to leave home for a few days.

The next day, I told Julian that my company was sending me to a neighboring city for a three-day training session.

"So sudden?" He seemed surprised.

"Yes, it was a last-minute notification for a very important project," I said, looking down, afraid to meet his eyes.

"Three days? Remember to take your supplements on time; I'll pack them for you to take," he said, getting up to retrieve my suitcase.

Watching his busy back, my heart was filled with nothing but cold hatred.

He was still acting. Still playing the role of the loving husband who adored me.

"Okay," I replied calmly.

He neatly folded my clothes and placed the pre-portioned pill organizer in the most conspicuous spot in my suitcase.

"Darling, take care of yourself while you're away. Make sure you eat three meals a day on time, okay?" He hugged me, whispering the reminder into my ear.

I remained stiff in his embrace, but inside, I scoffed.

Take care of myself? I listened to you too much, and now look at the mess I am.

I didn't go to the neighboring city.

I hauled my suitcase and checked into a hotel in the city.

The first thing I did after checking in was to search online for professional drug testing facilities.

I found one that seemed the most authoritative and discreet and called them.

The staff on the phone was very professional. He told me that personal submissions required samples and detailed requests, the fees were not low, and it would take time.

"I need it expedited, cost is not an issue," I said.

"For expedited service, the fastest we can provide preliminary results is 48 hours."

"That works."

After hanging up, I immediately hailed a cab to the testing facility.

It was a secluded campus with very strict security.

I handed over the prepared samples to the staff and filled out the request form in detail.

I asked them to perform a comprehensive analysis of the components of each pill, especially the white tablet.

After paying the hefty expedited fee, I walked out of the testing facility, feeling a little calmer.

Now, I just had to wait. Wait for the results that would pronounce the death sentence on my marriage.

The two days in the hotel crawled by like years.

I didn't dare turn on my phone, afraid of receiving Julian's calls. I didn't know what tone or expression to use to face him.

I replayed the doctor's words over and over: ovarian function decline, ultimately leading to infertility.

I asked myself, over and over, why.

Our families were well-matched, our jobs respectable, so it wasn't possible he was after my money.

Our relationship had always seemed good, at least on the surface.

He had no reason to hate me enough to destroy me this way.

I couldn't figure it out.

There had to be a more terrifying secret behind all this that I didn't know.

On the morning of the third day, I received a call from the testing facility.

"Is this Ms. Scarlett? Your sample test has preliminary results. You can pick up the report, or we can send you an electronic copy."

"Please email it to me," my voice was hoarse.

After hanging up, I opened my laptop, my hands trembling so much I could barely hold the mouse.

The email arrived quickly.

I clicked on the PDF file. The screen was filled with dense chemical names I couldn't understand.

I scrolled directly to the bottom, to the conclusion section.

"...Among the submitted samples, the main component of the white tablet labeled A1 is Spironolactone..."

Spironolactone. What was that?

I immediately searched for the term online.

The moment the search results appeared, my breathing stopped.

Spironolactone, also known as Aldactone, is a synthetic steroid. Clinically used as a diuretic, but it has a very strong side effect---anti-androgenic action.

Additionally, in some illegal uses, it's used as a component in long-acting contraceptives. Long-term use can severely interfere with the female endocrine system, inhibit ovulation, and even cause irreversible endometrial damage.

To put it more bluntly, it was a sterilizing drug.

My husband, the man who told me every day, "Darling, your health is paramount," had been feeding me sterilizing drugs with his own hands.

My world, in that moment, completely collapsed.

I looked at the words on the computer screen and laughed.

I laughed, and then the tears streamed down.

So that was it. All that gentle care for three years was just a sugar coating wrapped around poison.

Julian, you truly have a cruel heart.