On our wedding anniversary, I ask my husband, Luke Blackburn, to buy me some fish stew. Since I'm in my first trimester, I keep vomiting every now and then due to morning sickness. Right now, I have an intense craving for fish stew.

But Luke comes home empty-handed in the middle of the night. He claims that he's completely forgotten about my request.

I don't say anything at all. All I notice is a strand of long hair sticking to Luke's collar that doesn't belong to me.

Some time later, I see the fish stew I never got to eat in a photo that Luke's colleague, Ruby Pollard, has uploaded to her social media feed.

The caption reads, "Luke ordered this dish for me. He knows that I love fish stew from this particular restaurant the most. I'm so touched by his gesture!"

In the photo, I see a pair of familiar hands picking out fish bones from the meat tenderly just for Ruby.

The watch my husband, Luke Blackburn, was wearing was a gift I gave him for his birthday last year.

So, it wasn't that he was too busy. Instead, he was just saving his tenderness and care for someone who needed it more.

I turned off my phone, and my stomach suddenly churned violently. I hugged the trash bin and threw up until there was nothing left.

A bitter taste spread from my throat all the way to the depths of my heart.

I set down the trash bin and started laughing all of a sudden. It turned out I'd been the real fool all along.

When I went back to the bedroom, Luke had just come out of the shower.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" he asked.

"Luke."

He looked at me curiously.

"Let's talk."

Luke set down the towel and sat on the edge of the bed across from me.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Who is Ruby Pollard to you?"

His body instantly stiffened, the color draining from his face. That flustered look of a man caught red-handed was written all over his face.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" he asked reproachfully, frowning at me. "She's my colleague—you already know that."

I nodded. "Yes, I know. I also know she likes fish stew, has beautiful curly brown hair, and that when she works late, you not only take her food but thoughtfully pick out the fish bones for her as well."

Luke's expression completely changed.

"Have you been following me? Or checking my phone?" He stood up abruptly, looming over me. "Cynthia Roth, since when did you become like this?"

I didn't move and just looked up at him calmly. "I didn't. You just weren't careful enough."

"So what? Even if I did have dinner with Ruby, what's the big deal? Are you really going to read so much into everything and make such a fuss? We've been together for ten years, and you're pregnant now. So, can you stop being so paranoid and sensitive?"

I looked at him and suddenly felt it just wasn't worth it.

"Luke, aren't you tired?"

He was struck dumb.

"Isn't it exhausting playing the devoted husband in front of me by day and the caring boyfriend in front of her by night?"

"I'm not doing any of that," he instinctively blurted out, but his voice had already gone hollow.

"Forget it," I said with a wave of my hand, not wanting to hear any more of his excuses.

"What do you want then?" he asked, agitation creeping into his voice.

"What do I want?" I let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Luke, I want a divorce."

But he refused to agree to it. With reddened eyes, he asked me, "Cynthia, we've been together for ten years, and you're carrying our baby. Must you be this ruthless?"

He started recounting every moment from our college days until now, saying he just made a mistake and that I was the only one he'd ever loved.

He spoke with such emotion as if he were the one who'd been wronged.

I didn't say a word. Instead, I just waited for him to stop, then asked coldly, "Are you done?"

He stared at me, stunned.

"If you are, then leave. I'm tired."

After that night, Luke seemed like a changed man. He came home on time every day, cooked all kinds of pregnancy-friendly meals for me, took me on walks, and read me stories.

He acted like the perfect husband—attentive, gentle, and doting. It was as if that confrontation, the fish stew, and Ruby had all been nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

My friends all said, "He's a guy—they all mess up. Since he's trying to make it right, you should just give him a chance."

I didn't argue. But I knew that some things, once broken, could never be fixed.

One day, I was coming back from a prenatal checkup when a white Beetle suddenly swerved out of control and hurtled straight toward me.

I was thrown into the air and slammed hard onto the ground. A searing pain tore through my lower abdomen before spreading through my entire body.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw bright red blood seeping through my skirt, staining the concrete beneath me.

When I woke up again, I found myself in the hospital.

Luke sat by the bed, looking haggard and grief-stricken. Not only were his eyes bloodshot, but his jaw was covered in dark stubble as well.

"Cynthia, you're awake," he said hoarsely as he took my hand.

Instead of responding, I just reached down and touched my now-flat stomach.

"The baby…"

Luke's eyes reddened instantly. "The doctor said we lost it."

In that moment, tears slipped silently down my cheeks.

The little life I'd been looking forward to meeting for the last three months was gone, just as I'd started to feel my baby move.

"Cynthia, don't be like this. We're still young. We can have another baby." Luke comforted me awkwardly, trying to pull me into his arms.

I turned away, dodging his embrace.

"What about the driver?" I asked.

Luke's body tensed.

"It was… Ruby. She's in the room next door. She was injured too," Luke replied quietly. "She said she mistook the accelerator for the brake."

I looked at him. "So, what do you plan to do?"

He fell silent. It was a long time before he raised his head, his eyes pleading.

"Cynthia, Ruby didn't mean to hit you. She was just promoted to deputy director and has her whole future ahead of her. If this goes on her record, she'll be ruined. Could we settle this privately?"

I looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.

My baby was gone, and I'd nearly died. And yet, he was worried about whether the person behind this would ruin her future.

In that moment, my heart died completely.

"Luke, what is your heart made of? Stone?"

His face turned pale, and his lips were trembling so badly that he couldn't speak.

"Get out."

I closed my eyes. Even looking at him a moment longer made me sick.

Not only did he not leave, but he also did something that disgusted me even more. He put me under house arrest, all in the name of "helping me rest and recover".

He also took away my phone and wouldn't let anyone visit me. Every day, he personally brought me meals and watched me take the supplements he brought.

But I knew they were sleeping pills. I pretended to take them, hiding the pills under my tongue, and waited until he left to spit them out.

Ruby came on the third day. She told the nurse to leave, then locked the door behind her.

"Luke said you're not well, so I came to see you." She walked over to my bed, a smug smile on her face.

I kept my eyes closed and said nothing.

She leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Cynthia, you must hate me very much, right?"

"But so what? You lost a baby, while I haven't lost anything. Luke still protects me and loves me.

"Did you know that when the accident happened, the first person Luke ran to was me? He held me and said, 'Ruby, don't be scared.' Yet he didn't even once look at you."

My hands, hidden under the blanket, clenched into tight fists.

"You must really want to kill me right now. But too bad—you just took your medicine."

As she spoke, she pulled out a long, thin needle from her pocket.

"Do you think it'll hurt if I stick this into your hand?"

She grabbed my wrist with a smile and drove the needle deep into the back of my hand.

A sharp pain shot through me, and my eyes flew open. I stared at her coldly, as if she were already dead.

I startled her so badly that she froze, completely dazed.

In that split second, I summoned every ounce of strength left in me and slapped her hard across the face.

Ruby was shell-shocked. She stumbled back several steps, clutching her cheek and staring at me in disbelief.

"You're actually awake? And how dare you hit me?"

Just then, the hospital room door burst open, and Luke rushed in. The moment he saw what was happening, his expression changed. At the same time, he pulled Ruby into his arms protectively.

"Cynthia, what are you doing?"

Ruby burst into tears, looking utterly heartbroken.

"Luke, I'm so scared. Cynthia hit me," she said through sobs.

"It's okay. I'm here now," Luke murmured soothingly to her, but his gaze toward me turned colder by the second.

I looked at the back of my hand, where the needle had pierced through, and suddenly felt an eerie calm wash over me.

"Luke, take a good look—I'm your wife, and I just lost our baby. So, I'm the one who needs protecting the most," I stated the facts calmly.

He seemed to be caught off guard by my words, for his expression flickered with guilt and unease.

But Ruby, who was still nestled in his arms, only wept harder.

"Luke, I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have come to see Cynthia. I was just worried about her."

Her act of innocence made whatever guilt Luke had just felt vanish in an instant.

He turned to look at me with a frown. "Cynthia, Ruby just came to see you out of kindness. Why do you have to be so aggressive?"

I trembled with rage at the self-righteous look on his face.

But I knew there was no reasoning with this man anymore.

I pointed at Ruby and said coldly, "Get her out."

Ruby bit her lip pitifully, her eyes glistening as she looked at Luke.

"Luke…"

He patted her back gently and said, "Why don't you head out first?"

Ruby glared at me resentfully, looking back with every step as she walked away. Soon, only Luke and I were left in the room.

He turned to face me, exhaustion and helplessness written all over him.

"Cynthia, can you please stop being so difficult?"

It was that same line again. In his eyes, all my pain and despair were just me being difficult.

"Luke, I'll say it one more time—I want a divorce."

"It's never going to happen." His refusal was absolute. "I'm not divorcing you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," he replied.

I laughed.

"You love me? Is loving me cheating on me during my pregnancy? Or defending that murderer after I lost my baby? Or locking me up here and controlling me with sleeping pills?"