I had a massive fight with my husband, Gary Mitchell, while I was six months pregnant. He kicked me out of the house.

With nowhere to go and no money, I ducked into a convenience store just to get some warmth. I was staring at the steam rising from the hot food display when the cashier walked over.

"Excuse me, Miss. We have one last bottle of amnesia water left. Would you be interested in it?"

I froze, then let out a bitter laugh. "I don't have any money."

She said, "You don't need to use money. You can exchange it for something from your body."

Instinctively, I raised my hand and touched my swollen belly.

"How about this?"

I pushed open the convenience store door, and cold wind immediately hit my neck. I had barely taken two steps when Gary's voice rang out behind me.

"Carrie Crawford! Have you caused enough of a scene yet?"

I turned around and saw him running toward me in long strides. He had not even changed out of his fuzzy house slippers.

"How old are you? Running away from home like a child?

"Six months pregnant, and you're still this temperamental! What if something happens to you out here in the middle of the night?"

If this were before, I would have fought back without hesitation, and we could have argued loud enough for the whole street to hear. However, today I just listened in silence. I was too exhausted to fight anymore.

He soon finished his tirade. Probably because of my unusual quiet, his anger slowly died down, and his expression softened. He sighed and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer into his embrace.

"Alright, it's cold outside. Let's go home."

Back home, the heat enveloped my body. Gary crouched down to change my shoes for me, then looked up at me.

"Are you hungry? What do you want to eat? I'll make it for you."

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry."

He frowned. "You didn't eat anything all night out of spite. How could you not be hungry? Even if you're not hungry, the baby still needs to eat."

Without waiting for my response, he walked straight into the kitchen. Before long, he came out carrying a bowl of pasta loaded with shrimp, scallops, and chunks of lobster tail, piled so high it was almost comical.

Gary was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had never lifted a finger in the kitchen before. However, ever since I got pregnant, he refused to let me order takeout and would not hire help. He stubbornly insisted on personally handling my three meals a day.

The problem was that his cooking was truly terrible. His idea of seasoning food was to boil it in water, with at most a sprinkle of salt. Meanwhile, I loved bold flavors and could not enjoy anything without spice.

"Is it good?" he asked, sitting across from me and watching me eat.

I nodded, twirled some pasta onto my fork, and gave a flat hum in response. The seafood had a strong, briny smell that mixed unpleasantly with the watery, underseasoned sauce.

Wave after wave of nausea rose in me, but I forced down my disgust and slowly swallowed it down, bite by bite.

Gary's phone suddenly rang sharply.

"Emergency at the company," he said while grabbing his coat and car keys. "Stay home and behave. Don't go out again."

He slammed the door shut with a bang and left.

I put down my fork and looked at the bowl, which was still more than half full. My stomach could no longer hold back the churning. I rushed into the bathroom and vomited violently over the toilet.

After I finished throwing up, I leaned against the cold tile wall as tears spilled out uncontrollably. I did not want to live this bland, nauseating life anymore.

I immediately pulled out my phone and ordered a spicy curry and Buffalo wings. The delivery arrived quickly, and I ate with complete satisfaction. This was the most comfortable meal I had eaten since getting together with Gary.

Afterward, I crawled alone into our wide double bed and slept dreamlessly.

Gary did not come home all night and did not send a single message. The next morning, he finally called back with his usual commanding tone.

"I left an important document in the study. Bring it to the York Resort Hotel right away."

I did not ask questions. After finding the document, I took a cab to the hotel. However, I was stopped by security at the grand entrance.

"Sorry, ma'am. This is a members-only establishment. You need an internal invitation to enter."

I pulled out my phone and called Gary. I called once, and then twice, but no one answered.

I pulled my down jacket tighter against me to block out the cold wind. I waited for nearly an hour. My feet were going numb from the cold when I finally saw Gary's assistant, Daniel Lawson, hurrying out from inside.

"Mrs. Mitchell, I'm so sorry. Mr. Mitchell is in a meeting."

He apologized repeatedly as he led me to a large villa, explaining that Gary had been working here for the past few days.

When Gary saw me, his brows immediately knitted tight.

"I asked you to deliver a document. Why did you take so long? Can't you handle even this small task?"

"I arrived a long time ago, but I couldn't get in at the entrance. I called you so many times..." I tried to explain.

He did not listen at all and impatiently cut me off. "Enough with the excuses. How can you still keep talking about going back to work when your performance is like this?

"You can't even deliver a document properly. What else can you do?"

My heart felt like it had been stabbed with a knife. I had mentioned wanting to continue working many times before, but he refused each time.

"I don't need my wife going out and making a spectacle of herself to earn money. Just stay home comfortably and enjoy yourself."

I took a breath and suppressed my emotions. "The document has been delivered. If there's nothing else, I'll head back."

"What's the rush?" His tone softened a bit.

"Go wait in the office. After my meeting, I'll take you out to eat."

Before I could refuse, he was already being ushered toward the conference room by a group of people.

Daniel led me to the office. When the door opened, I saw what looked like a beauty pageant. Seven or eight young, attractive women sat at their workstations, each with flawless makeup and stylish clothing.

Gary had two strict requirements when hiring female secretaries. First, they had to be beautiful. Second, they had to be under twenty-five years old.

The outside world jokingly called his secretary team the 'Mitchell Group Beauty Squad'.

Wearing my bulky down jacket and walking among them, I felt like a penguin that had wandered into Swan Lake. I sat down on the sofa without a care.

The secretaries' curious gazes stuck to me. I heard their whispered gossip clearly.

"Who's that?"

A new face wearing an extremely short pencil skirt stared at me directly. She nudged Daniel and asked in a sweet voice, "Daniel, who is this?"

Daniel replied quietly, "That's Mr. Mitchell's wife."

The new secretary's eyes immediately widened in shock, her voice rising slightly.

"Mrs. Mitchell? Is she a celebrity? Why is she so covered up?"

Daniel shook his head. "No."

The new secretary curled her lip and spoke in a sour, passive-aggressive tone.

"Oh, she's not a celebrity? If she's not a celebrity, why is she wearing a hat and mask? She's acting so mysterious, like she's afraid someone might recognize her."

The girl beside her gently tugged at her, but she did not care at all. She brazenly looked me over again, her voice carrying malice.

"Is it because she's not very good-looking? Look at her figure. She's huge!"

I lowered my eyes. Even the thick down jacket could not hide my bloated, misshapen figure.

After getting pregnant, I gained weight rapidly, and all my curves disappeared.

As for why I wore a mask and hat, it was because of Gary. He said it was to protect me. He had made many enemies in business and was afraid I would be targeted.

Daniel scolded her in a low voice, "Don't talk nonsense! Mr. Mitchell loves his wife very much. Show some respect!"

The new secretary pouted, looking completely unconvinced, and rolled her eyes.

I looked at her calmly and beckoned with my hand. "You. Get me a cup of coffee."

When Gary finished his meeting and came out, his eyes immediately landed on the coffee in front of me, and his brows knitted tightly again.

"Who gave you coffee?"

The new secretary immediately stood up, eagerly answering as if seeking credit. "Mr. Mitchell, I made it for Mrs. Mitchell!"

Gary's gaze swept sharply toward her, and he scolded harshly. "Pour it out."

The new secretary's smug expression froze instantly. She trembled as she stepped forward, her hands shaking as she picked up the coffee cup, nearly spilling it.

"What's wrong with you?"

Gary turned to look at me, his tone full of reproach.

"Can you drink coffee right now? Do I need to remind you of common sense over and over again?

"How old are you? She doesn't know better, but how can you not?"

The entire outer secretary area fell silent. All the girls kept their heads down, afraid of provoking Gary.

His words twisted painfully in my chest.

I swallowed the sourness in my throat, tugged at the corner of his sleeve, and took the initiative to break the suffocating atmosphere by saying quietly, "I'm hungry."

With a stern face, he pulled out his phone and ordered a nutritious meal from the hotel to be sent to the room.

The food arrived quickly. The plating was exquisite, and the ingredients were high-end, light, and healthy, completely meeting his requirements.

He did not sit down to accompany me.

"Take your time eating. I have a team gathering. It's just downstairs in the courtyard."

I walked to the balcony facing the courtyard and saw his so-called 'team gathering'.

Beside the long buffet table, his siren-like secretaries surrounded him in their flashy outfits, smiling radiantly. His posture was relaxed, a wine glass perched on one hand. His other hand rested naturally on the back of the chair of the secretary beside him.

He looked like a king holding court, and that secretary was his favorite.

My mind flashed back to several years ago. I had been jealous of his overly attractive secretary team and made a fuss about him replacing them.

He laughed at me for being petty, saying secretaries were the company's image. He told me to be understanding and not make trouble. He cupped my face and swore that in this lifetime, both body and heart, he would have only me.

Over the years, he truly had not been involved in any scandalous rumors. However, at that moment, that secretary in the super short skirt giggled as she picked up a grape and brought it to his lips in the courtyard below.

He did not hesitate and naturally lowered his head to eat it. My chest suddenly felt tight, and I could barely breathe.

Next, the secretary stood up, seemingly wanting to go to the nearby swing. However, she 'accidentally' stumbled and cried out, her entire body falling into Gary's arms.

Gary's hand easily caught her waist as he joked with a smile, "This is what you get for always dieting. Now you can't even walk straight?"

As he spoke, he scooped her up and walked a few steps to the swing, gently placing her on it.

My eyes stung from the scene. I gripped my cold phone tightly and used all my strength to hurl it down toward that glaring scene of laughter and cheer below.

Splash!

The phone hit the center of the heated pool in the courtyard, sending up a huge spray of water.

The playful noise below stopped abruptly. Everyone was startled by the sudden commotion and looked up in alarm.

Gary also looked up, and his gaze found me precisely on the balcony. Across the distance, our eyes met.

I gripped the balcony railing and shouted hoarsely at that blurry figure, "Gary Mitchell! Get up here now!"

Gary came quickly. He pushed open the door, his face ashen.

I grabbed the pillow beside me and threw it hard at him. He did not dodge, and the pillow hit him softly.

His eyes were dark. "What are you making a fuss about now?"

I pointed at the healthy meal on the table in front of me.

"Why do you get to eat barbecue and drink wine while I can only eat this garbage?"

He said coldly, "Carrie, be reasonable. You're pregnant. The doctor said you need a light diet.

"This is all for your own good. Once the baby is born, you can eat whatever you want. Okay?"

The baby again. How much more did I have to sacrifice for this baby?

Besides, I did not even like children. He replaced my birth control pills and got me pregnant.

He walked over, picked up a fork, and lifted a piece of kale to feed to me. His tone softened, like he was coaxing a disobedient child.

"Ahh… Open up!"

I turned my face away sharply, avoiding the vegetable as tears welled up against my will.

"All you see is the baby! Just because I'm pregnant with this baby, I don't even have the freedom to choose what I eat?"