I had just reached the doorway when I saw Kelly putting her things in the nursery, which Quentin had prepared for our baby after I got pregnant.

My rage flared right then—we had picked the decorations to the furniture in that room together, and everything in there was a symbol of our love for our baby.

But now, Quentin was letting Kelly sleep there?! Was he going to let her use everything in there for her baby too?!

I shook with rage as Kelly smiled at me smugly, lying flat on the small bed meant for my baby.

I rushed up, intent on dragging her off, but she was screaming as she suddenly fell out of the bed even before I reached her.

Quentin rushed into the room when he heard her and promptly grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside, glaring at me in rage as he growled, "What are you doing?!"

I glared at him in turn, tears of grief welling up in my eyes as my voice cracked in tears. "Are you letting Kelly have that room too?!"

Quentin appeared briefly apologetic but soon frowned. "What's the problem? She's just staying for a while anyway, and she likes it."

I gaped at him, incredulous. "You said it yourself! This is going to be our baby's room—"

He cut me off right then. "Just stop it! What's gotten into you lately?! Why are you being so unreasonable?! I told you she isn't staying here forever—she's just staying for a while!

"Hell, you're disappointing me so much that I'm beginning to wonder if it's a mistake marrying you! Or do you want our baby to live without a father?!"

My heart was in pieces even as I looked at him—he was threatening to leave me and my baby if I continued my antics.

I hung my head to hide my disappointment and turned to leave in silence.

I could see the hint of guilt on Quentin's face, but he quickly hid it as he spoke again behind me, his tone gentler this time. "I can just make a better room for the baby later anyway…"

A better room?

No, I wasn't giving him the chance.

I was going to take my baby away from her father who clearly didn't love her.

I continued ahead, smiling wryly.

Soon, Kelly called out meekly, "Quentin…"

Quentin stopped talking right then, and I turned to see him hurrying to her.

As it turned out, my absence didn't even matter to him.

Later, Kelly started sending me many voice messages, and Quentins's voice was ever so affectionate in them.

"Don't worry about Jolin. She's always so petty—she'll be fine in a couple of days.

"You can stay here with no worries. I'll also arrange for renovations if there's anything in your room that doesn't suit your tastes."

As I listened to all those recordings of Quention's tender voice, that was when I realized that yes, he was good to me and cared so much about our unborn child before, but it was all practice, for the sake of Kelly and her baby.

Even the nursery was made for her sake.

Tears of misery streamed down my cheeks, and my heart hurt so much I couldn't even breathe.

The love I prided myself with was a joke all along.

That was when I felt a kick in my belly—my baby seemed to sense my mood.

I quickly assured her, "It's alright, baby. You won't have to stay with a daddy who doesn't love us."

Quentin doted on Kelly even more after she moved in, while I became virtually invisible.

With that, what last vestiges of hope I had for Quentin went up in smoke.

One night, I was going downstairs to get some water when I suddenly heard Kelly's voice from the guest room. "Quen, I can't sleep."

Quentin asked in concern, "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?"

Kelly sighed. "Oh, it's just the baby… she always starts kicking when it gets late. But I heard that the necklace your family passed down can help soothe one's nerves… May I borrow it?"

Quentin was silent for a moment, but he soon said quietly, "No problem. I'll get it from her—she can have it back after you deliver your baby."

I felt a pang of pain on my chest as I listened.

That necklace wasn't just priceless—it was a symbol of status, passed down among the ladies of the Smith household across generations.

Quentin himself had given it to me when we got married, telling me that it would only belong to me.

That I was the only one he loved.

That I was now the lady of her house.

But now, he was taking it away, so he could give it to another woman just because she asked.

I covered my mouth, refusing to cry out, but that was when the floorboards beneath my feet suddenly creaked softly.

The next second, the door opened, and Quentin appeared.

He was stunned for a moment when he saw me, and a look of guilt showed as he asked, "What are you doing staying up so late?"

I looked up into his eyes, fighting back my grief as I replied, "I needed a drink. Kelly wants my necklace?"

Quentin appeared a little embarrassed. "She's not sleeping well, and the necklace really soothes one's nerves. Don't worry, she's just borrowing it for a while—she'll return it to you after her baby is born."

I nodded and said readily, "Okay, but on one condition."

Quentin's face lit up, and he took a step forward, wanting to hug me. "Oh, Jolin! You're such a considerate person. Don't worry, after Kelly delivers her baby, I'll definitely—"

I quickly stepped back, avoiding his touch—the scent of Kelly's perfume was clinging to him, and it repulsed me.

That cut Quentin off mid-sentence, but he quickly recovered and continued, "Once Kelly gives birth, I'll definitely make it up to you… Look, Jolin—you'll always be my wife and the lady of this house. No one will ever change that."

I nodded, impassive as I said, "Like I said, on one condition."

Turning, I went upstairs to pick up the divorce papers I had prepared, flipped to the signature page, and handed them to him.

Quentin, assuming it was just a matter of his name, signing it without thinking twice. "It's alright—you can buy anything you want. I'll pay."

With that, I unfastened the necklace from my neck and handed it to him, calmly saying, "Here, take it—in fact, Kelly can keep it as long as she wants."

Quentin took the necklace, his fingers trembling a little, and clearly intent on correcting me.

However, all he ended up saying was, "Don't worry, Jo. I'll make it up to you after Kelly gives birth."

I nodded and started back upstairs, when he suddenly reached out to hug me again.

I avoided his touch once more, and this time, I could see a brief flicker of pain in his eyes.

But he said nothing else and returned into Kelly's room with the necklace right away, and she was squealing in delight at the very next second. "Quen, you really got it? Oh, you really spoil me too much!"

I stared outside the window, my heart cold as ice.

Tomorrow.

Once tomorrow ended, I would be gone from this place.

That night, Quentin returned to our bedroom early, hugging me from behind like he always did—like nothing had happened earlier.

I pretended to sleep and didn't return to his embrace, though a second had barely passed when Kelly called his phone, and he left again.

The next day, I opened my eyes to find no one around me, and I started packing my things.

When I went downstairs with my suitcase, I found Quentin sitting beside Kelly, carefully feeding her soup.

He sprang to his feet when he looked up and saw me, panic showing on his face.

Still, he quickly put down the bowl, rubbing his hands nervously as he said, "Good morning, Jolin. Now, don't get the wrong idea here. Kelly wasn't feeling an appetite, so I made her some soup to help."

I nodded calmly and continued toward the door with my suitcase, and Quentin's face darkened when he noticed it.

He leaped up, snatching it off my hands as he snapped, "What do you think you're doing?! Are you really leaving over something so trivial? Can you stop behaving like a petty child for once?! Kelly's here all alone and helpless—it's only right that I take good care of her!"

I stayed silent, but that only made Quentin even angrier as he bellowed, "I told you that she's just staying here for a while! Stop being so jealous!"

He slammed the suitcase on the floor right then, causing me to jump and instinctively clutch my stomach, terrified that it shocked my baby.

Quentin seemed to realize something was wrong, a flicker of guilt crossing his face.

But before he could speak, Kelly came running, holding her bowl of soup and pleading meekly, "Calm down, Jolin. I know it's all my fault, but this soup is really good. You can have some!"

She held out the bowl to me, and my stomach churned when I saw the distinct smear of lipstick on the rim.

Having had enough, I tried to push her hand away. "I'm fine! I don't need it!"

I was as gentle as I could, but the bowl dropped somehow, shattering with a resounding clang even as Kelly screamed dramatically, "Argh! It burns!!!"

She held out her hand, and there wasn't even a smudge on it, but Quentin was panicking anyway and rushed to her side.

Once he was done calming Kelly down, he strode up to me and grabbed my arm, then started dragging me toward the basement.

"You've gone too far this time!" he bellowed. "Kelly is being nice, and not only did you refuse to accept her, but you had to hurt her too! You had better start reflecting on yourself right now!"

"Argh!" I screamed in pain, tears welling up in my eyes as I struggled against his grip.

Along the way, I knocked over the dining table, spilling the soup that scalded my legs and left them burning red.

Even as excruciating pain overwhelmed me, I curled up and collapsed on the floor, trembling uncontrollably.

"Sorry! It's just an accident! Look, you wouldn't be hurt if you just stop struggling!"

Quentin promptly defended himself even as he whipped out his phone to call an ambulance, pursing his lips apologetically when he saw my tears. "Just hang on. I'll get the doctor…"

He hesitantly reached out, intending to pick me up when Kelly cried out in distress from the other side, "Oh, Quen… my stomach hurts so much! Help!"

Quentin's face turned pale as he promptly left my side, sprinting away while telling me, "The ambulance will be here soon. I have to check on Kelly first..."

Exhausted, I collapsed to the floor when I felt a sharp pain tearing through my abdomen.

I reached down and felt the blood streaming down my thighs…

My face turning pale, I cried, "Quentin! The baby… The baby's hurt…"

Quentin turned to look at me, not seeing the blood on the floor as the couch was in the way.

He promptly frowned and snapped, "Did you just threaten me with our child?! How dare you curse your own child like that! Well, let me give it to you straight—your cheap tricks won't work on me!"

And with that, he scooped Kelly up in his arms and soon disappeared.

Even as I lay on the floor, writhing in agony, I pulled out my phone with what strength I had left, calling 911 even as my fingers trembled…