McKenzie Meyer's large eyes glistened with tears, portraying a pitiful, on-the-verge-of-crying expression. Jackson quickly attempted to console her, “Kenzie, I know you meant well. This was just an accident, nothing to do with you.”

Seizing the moment, McKenzie nestled into Jackson's embrace, like a frightened bird seeking refuge. “Jack, I know you're the greatest, but I'm worried Rebecca will misunderstand me.”

Jackson stole a quick glance at me before whispering to her, “It’s fine, she won’t blame you. I’m here.”

The way they clung to each other, you’d think it was McKenzie who had suffered the miscarriage, not me.

Gathering my resolve, I slowly approached McKenzie and, in one swift move, slapped her across the face. Jackson immediately positioned McKenzie behind him, shielding her.

“Rebecca, have you lost your mind? The child is gone, and you’re taking it out on Kenzie? If you’re upset, direct it at me!”

McKenzie covered her face, sobbing softly. I was about to retort to Jackson, but a sharp pain in my abdomen made me double over. I clutched my stomach and crouched down.

Jackson noticed and instinctively moved to help me, but McKenzie softly interrupted, “My sister had a miscarriage at three months once, and she was discharged from the hospital within hours. The doctor said the fetus isn’t fully developed before three months, so it doesn’t really harm the mother.”

Jackson’s hand paused. His expression turned cold, as if he suspected I was feigning my pain.

“Rebecca, you can have another child, but this was your fault. Apologize to Kenzie.”

My nails bit into my palms, and my chest heaved with anger. I stared at them, suddenly realizing how blind I'd been.

With clenched fists, I shouted, “Get out, both of you!”

McKenzie nestled deeper into Jackson’s arms. “Jack, I think I have a fever. I’m feeling faint.”

Jackson felt her forehead, his face full of concern. “Forget about her. Let’s get you some medicine.”

With that, he guided McKenzie out of the hospital room.

For five years, I endured for the chance to have a child with him. Now, the baby was gone, and he called me a lunatic.

I was indeed foolish—a fool for loving him from the start. In trying to be the perfect wife, I had abandoned the career I loved.

The room spun, and I collapsed onto the floor.

When I regained consciousness, a nurse beside me looked on with sympathy.

“Why isn’t your husband here with you? You’re so weak after the surgery.”

A bitter smile formed on my lips. My phone buzzed with a notification from McKenzie on social media.

“Jack’s so considerate, keeping my IV warm with his hands. I’m truly touched.”

The picture showed McKenzie's delicate wrist with an IV needle, Jackson beside her, tenderly holding the tube.

Without thinking, I liked the post and decided to update my own account.

“On the day of the miscarriage, my husband is warming the IV for his girl. How thoughtful.”

I attached a photo of my surgical report alongside McKenzie’s post.

Within a minute, McKenzie commented.

“Rebecca, you misunderstood. Jack didn’t want to leave me alone with the IV. I’ll send him back soon.”

Jackson’s call came through at the same time.

"Rebecca, what's with the sarcasm?"

"Mckenzie's unwell, so it's my responsibility as her friend to take care of her. Besides, you've had your operation, and the nurses are there with you. Why all the drama?"

Jackson's words hit me like a knife. I hung up, unable to continue the conversation.

Later that evening, Jackson finally returned home, carrying a takeout box, which he set down in front of me. "You said you weren't hungry earlier, but now it's late. You should eat something."

He spoke as if today had been uneventful. I used to see Jackson as composed and steady, but now I realize that too much calm can be chillingly indifferent.

I opened the takeout box, and the thick sauce had already congealed, with bits of chili sprinkled over the dish. It was clearly not fresh.

"Eat it while it's still warm," Jackson urged.

I turned my head away. "Do you really expect me to eat this?"

Embarrassed, he coughed and closed the lid on the box. "I'll go get you something fresh."

Just as Jackson was about to leave, his phone rang. "Hold on, I'll be right there."

He hung up and explained, "Mckenzie's house was broken into. I'll handle it and come back, okay?"

I forced a smile and didn't stop him. Mckenzie's drama was no surprise to me. True to form, Jackson didn't come back that night.

As I looked at the cold leftovers, I suddenly recalled how Jackson used to gaze at me with warmth. He would bring me anything he thought I’d enjoy, even the simplest street snacks. He'd go out of his way to get them for me.

On our wedding day, he kissed my forehead and promised to love me forever. Even when I faced the possibility of never having children, he reassured me that the most important thing was being together, kids or not.

That's why I gave him my heart, even agreeing to try IVF so he could experience fatherhood. But everything changed once Mckenzie entered the picture.

My needs always took a backseat to hers, and he no longer saw me. Sometimes, love just fades.

I ordered myself a healthy meal online, and tasting the warm food, I realized I didn't need Jackson's love anymore.

The next morning, I checked out of the hospital and immediately drove to Mckenzie's place to get Whiskers.

Whiskers is my only family now. She was a gift from my mother, and ever since Mom passed away, Whiskers has been my solace, keeping me company.

It's been ten years. She's all I have left.

I knocked on the door, and Mckenzie answered, wearing a flimsy nightgown, her eyes foggy with sleep. Her face immediately tightened at the sight of me.

"Rebecca, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in the hospital?"

"Jackson was exhausted last night. He fell asleep and couldn't make it back to the hospital to be with you. Don't hold it against him."

Ignoring her hollow words, I walked past her and began searching for Whiskers.

She wasn't in the living room, so I headed to the bedroom. The bed was in disarray, with a man's boxers and a woman's lacy bra tangled together.

I didn't need to guess; it had been quite a night.