Chapter 1

The day before my prenatal checkup, my husband left town under the guise of a business merger.

But that night, I saw an Instagram update from the top influencer his agency was promoting.

"The billionaire CEO threw me a surprise birthday party! Oh my god, my heart is melting!"

In the photo, the woman’s silk slip was sliding off her shoulders, her cheeks flushed with an unnatural heat. Behind her stood my husband, holding a cake, looking at her with pure adoration.

In the comments, fans were shipping them. She replied, "Shh, I didn't even dare to wear the lingerie he bought me."

But what caught my eye was the wedding band on his left hand. It was the exact match to mine.

So, I calmly left a comment:

"If you're going to be a homewrecker, you might as well be a little bolder."

The image of Ethan wrapping his arms around that half-naked woman felt like a jagged blade carving up my soul.

A suffocating wave of nausea and grief surged from the depths of my heart. Right after I closed Instagram, my phone rang. It was Ethan.

Before I could even utter a word, his furious voice blasted through the speaker.

"She worked her ass off traveling with me for this deal, and it happened to be her birthday! What's wrong with me throwing her a little surprise? Stop looking for drama!"

"And what the hell did you comment on her post? When your mind is in the gutter, everything looks dirty. Hazel, you're honestly disgusting."

Disgusting. The accusation hit me so hard I forgot to breathe, a dull ache blooming in my chest.

Just this morning, before he left, Ethan had gently stroked my belly and told me to rest.

By evening, I had cooked a whole dinner waiting for him, only for him to text saying a major client came up and he couldn't make it home.

But he promised. He told me to wait for him, that he would be back in time to take me to my prenatal appointment tomorrow.

Now I knew the "client" was just a cheap excuse.

I took a deep, shaky breath. "So, your surprise was delivering yourself to her bed?"

I swallowed my rage, but the line went quiet for a second before a pathetic whimpering filled the receiver.

"Oh, Ethan... it's all my fault. I made Hazel misunderstand. I don't want a birthday anymore. I'll just resign."

Hearing her cry, Ethan's temper flared instantly. "Don't worry about her," he snapped, his voice cold. "You're not resigning. She doesn't call the shots."

With that, he hung up.

I stared at my blank phone screen, the air around me turning bitterly cold.

His words were like ice water poured over my head, freezing every shred of hope I had left.

I didn't even want to imagine what happened after that photo was taken.

The thought made me physically sick.

I subconsciously touched my stomach and let out a self-deprecating laugh.

No wonder. No wonder he had secretly poked holes in our condoms, claiming he wanted us to have a "symbol of our love" as soon as possible.

In reality, he just wanted to trap me with a baby.

I had believed his lies blindly. But now, it seemed I was the only fool living in the fairytale he spun.

After sitting numbly on the couch for a while, I dragged out a suitcase and began packing.

But as I looked around, I realized barely any of my own things were here. The house was filled with things I had bought for Ethan.

Once packed, I sent him one last text: "Let's get a divorce."

The message sent. Then, I blocked his number.

It felt like I was finally purging him from my life.

I left our house and moved back to my old apartment.

Strangely, after weeks of insomnia, I slept like a baby.

Maybe my heart knew that this relationship, which had once consumed my entire being, was finally dead.