The Women and Children's Hospital in Alstor City was known as the best place in town for maternity care.

Most expectant mothers ended up here.

By the time I arrived, it was already past 8:30. Nearly every department had a line stretching down the hallway.

All around me, I saw men standing patiently in queues while their wives rested nearby or went off for other checkups.

It was efficient, really—saved a lot of time.

I couldn't help but feel a quiet envy.

With a sigh, I resigned myself and joined the end of a random line.

After standing for a while, my legs started to ache.

I hadn't eaten, hadn't slept well, and my stomach began churning violently.

Acid surged up my throat—I doubled over with dry heaves, fighting the urge to run straight to the bathroom and throw up.

But one glance at the long line behind me, and the courage vanished.

Just as I was gritting my teeth, trying to endure it, a young man with bold brows and kind eyes stepped toward me, smiling.

"If you don't mind, I can hold your place," he said. "My family's inside with the doctor, and I'm just waiting."

Perfect-timing.

I thanked him quickly and hurried to the restroom.

When I returned, his family had come out—a stylish, beautiful young woman at his side. They made quite the pair.

She handed me a small bag of fruit candies and a pack of soda crackers.

A true lifesaver. I rushed to thank her.

"No worries," she said casually. "Alkaline foods help neutralize stomach acid. Eases the nausea a bit. By the way, how come your husband isn't with you?"

"His friend's kid had a fever. He took her to the hospital early this morning—at around four-thirty. Still hasn't come back." My voice faltered slightly.

The woman looked surprised.

"A fever? For a hospital visit? Isn't it usually just some IV fluids, maybe an antibiotic? Shouldn't take that long. My eldest had a 104.9°F fever once. Worst they did was an EEG. No big procedures. And it doesn't take more than one person to go, right? What kind of friend is this? Is their kid more important than his own?"

The young man gave a discreet cough, cutting her off. He offered me a quick, apologetic smile before gently tugging her away.

My nose stung. The weight of it all pressed hard on my chest, and I struggled to keep the tears from falling.

Jason, even strangers understand what's plain to see. Don't you?

I pushed my exhausted body up and down the hospital halls.

What should've been a two-hour checkup stretched into an entire morning, thanks to the endless lines.

By the time I was done, even one more step made my feet ache.

Outside the hospital, I flagged down a random cab.

Half-asleep in the backseat, my phone suddenly chimed. It was a Facebook friend request.

Verification message: [Denise, Jason's ex. Can we talk?]

My heart skipped a beat. Sleep vanished. I accepted uneasily.

Almost immediately, she sent a photo.

I opened it.

Jason sat by a hospital bed, gently feeding a little girl. His expression was soft and indulgent.

The girl held a helium balloon, smiling at him with absolute joy.

She looked familiar.

I dug through my memory.

Last year, on a typical weekend, we'd driven out to a little-known spot for a change of pace.

After sightseeing, it was nearly noon. We decided to eat at his mother's house nearby. She had guests. A petite, sweet-faced woman sat on the couch with a toddler—maybe two years old—chatting with his mother.

The moment their eyes met, Jason froze. His breathing turned erratic, color draining from his face. Something was off.

It wasn't until I yelped from the pain of his tight grip that he snapped out of it, only to turn and walk out.

I awkwardly greeted everyone and chased after him.

We didn't stay for lunch that day.

He locked himself in the study, chain-smoked all afternoon.

I was still processing it when another message came through: [Please. Give Alison her father. A daughter needs her dad to grow up healthy.]

I stared, stunned. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't misreading it.

And then, I laughed bitterly.

[Are you sure you didn't send that to the wrong person?]

My fingers trembled as I typed, barely restraining the urge to curse her out.

[Sorry, I'm not the one you should ask. Try checking with Jason, see if he has a hobby of raising other people's kids.]

I had never met anyone so shameless. Trying to break up a family to complete her own? Her only confidence came from their years of history.

She didn't reply. I, on the other hand, was dead tired.

I took a screenshot and sent it to Jason. I ignored the calls he made after that, then collapsed into bed.

Some time later—how long, I couldn't say—I vaguely felt someone pull a blanket over me.

I opened my eyes.

Jason had come back.

I turned away, eyes shut tight, ignoring him.

He leaned over, gently massaging my scalp, but his tone was rushed.

"Becca, I called you several times. You didn't answer. Ruby's phone is out of service. I rushed to the hospital but couldn't find you—thought I'd lose my mind."

He paused, then took my arm and started rubbing it, voice softening.

"Becca, I'm sorry I'm late. You must be exhausted. I got your favorite snacks. Stopped by the import store too—got you imported milk powder and prenatal vitamins. A peace offering from your apologetic husband."

Normally I loved his pampering. But today, it only irritated me.

Seeing me silent, his anxiety deepened.

"Babe, are you mad at me?" he asked, flustered. "Please listen—it was only because of Denise's mom, Kate, that I went. When they were drawing Alison's blood, Denise fainted from exhaustion. I couldn't just leave..."

"You couldn't call Kate or Denise's dad? It's okay to bother me, but not them?"

I couldn't hold it in anymore. My voice cracked.

"Don't you think this is absurd? Denise's daughter gets sick, and instead of telling her husband, she begs you! And you—your own wife is at her first prenatal exam, and you leave to be with your ex. An entire morning, Jason! You two looked more like a family today than we ever did. Me and the baby—we're the outsiders!"

The more I spoke, the more the emotions surged.

My chest heaved with each wave, and before I knew it, I was crying.

Jason had rarely seen me like this.

Panicked, he brushed away my tears and held me tight.

"Becca, please don't cry. It hurts me to see you like this. Kate has high blood pressure. I was worried she'd get too stressed if I called her. I only thought of her. I didn't consider how you'd feel. That's on me. I won't go if Denise ever calls again. I promise. How about this—I'll block her. And you delete her too, okay? Will that make you feel better?"

Jason blocked Denise and deleted her number right in front of me.

But my heart didn't feel the slightest relief. I couldn't shake the feeling that Denise wouldn't give up so easily—and I was right.

That afternoon, I applied for annual leave from work. The doctor told me during my prenatal checkup that I was showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. Along with medication, I needed plenty of rest.

After work, I picked up some healthy snacks—our favorites—and headed home with a light step.

But as I stepped out of the elevator and approached the apartment, I found the front door ajar. From inside came the crisp voice of a child.

I stopped in my tracks. Jason wasn't home yet. Who could it be?

A bad feeling surged through me.

I walked into the living room and there she was—Denise—lounging lazily on the couch, watching TV.

The floor in front of her was littered with snack wrappers.

A little girl beside her had been bouncing happily on the sofa, but the moment she saw me, she froze.

"Mommy, who is she?" she asked curiously.

Denise stopped munching, raised an eyebrow, and looked me up and down.

"Becca? You've gotten so fat since the last time we met. So ugly. I honestly don't know what Jason sees in you."

I was stunned. I never imagined someone who looked so delicate and sweet could say something so openly vicious.

My heart pounded wildly with shock and anger. I forced myself to stay calm.

"That's none of your business. This is my home. Get out. You're trespassing. If you don't leave right now, I'm calling the police."

Maybe it was my cold tone, but the little girl suddenly burst into tears and buried herself in Denise's arms. "Mommy, let's go, I'm scared!"

Denise shot me a glare, then gave a nonchalant smile.

"Aren't you curious how I got your house key? Jason gave it to me. This was our wedding home, you know? I picked it out myself. The furniture, the decorations—every little thing—I chose them all.

Funny how all these years passed and he still didn't change the locks. Tsk tsk... If I hadn't made a silly mistake back then, you wouldn't have had your chance. Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

Her roaming gaze, her smug tone, her clinging to the past—every bit of it ignited something in me.

My heart thundered, scalp tingling, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself.

"Leave. Now," I said through gritted teeth. "Whatever you had is in the past. I'm the one living here now. I'm Jason's legal wife, and I'm carrying his child. I'm asking you not to disturb our family again."

Denise froze. Her expression flickered.

She stared at my belly, eyes dim, lost in thought.

Just then, the little girl—Alison—suddenly lunged at me. "You're a bad woman! Don't bully my mommy!"

She grabbed my arm and went to bite me.

I yanked free, fury overwhelming me. I raised my hand, ready to strike—

Only to have it caught midair.

Jason had arrived, and his grip locked around my wrist like steel.

Alison screamed and cried harder.

Jason's face was dark, eyes burning. "She's just a kid. What the hell are you doing?"

Right on cue, Denise began to sniffle, a trace of triumph flickering in her tearful eyes.

I trembled all over, as if my heart had been thrown onto open flames. I curled in on myself.

"So I'm just supposed to stand by while they barge into my home, bite me, and humiliate me?"

I tried to laugh, but tears wouldn't stop spilling from my eyes.

Jason panicked. "Becca, are you okay?"

He gripped my hand, worried, then turned to Denise, voice cold and sharp. "The only reason I ever helped you was out of respect for Kate. Don't flatter yourself. Stop interfering in our lives. Leave. Now."

Tears streamed down Denise's face. She pointed weakly to the medical report on the table, her voice barely audible. "Jason, you really don't want me anymore? I had blood in my urine. I just wanted…"

"Don't make me say it again. Get out!" Jason's tone was ice.

Denise stood, dazed, and stumbled out the door.

"Mommy—wait for me—!" Alison sobbed as she chased after her, crying hysterically.

I stood frozen for a long time before finally snapping out of it. When I looked up, Jason was still staring at the doorway, lips tightly pressed together, his expression clouded. He looked torn, worried, and... reluctant.

I spoke hesitantly, "Jason? Are you thinking of going after them?"

Suddenly, he pulled me into his arms. "I'm sorry, Becca. I was just worried... Never mind. Forget it. I must've scared you. I'll change the locks first thing."

I stared at the table, at the pile of snack wrappers.

My nose stung.

This was their wedding home. Her fingerprints were everywhere.

Then what did I count for?

The humiliation I'd swallowed came flooding back, blanketing me in despair.

"Jason," I said softly. "Was it really right for me to marry you? To have this baby with you? Jason, I don't want this house anymore. What should I do?"

His back went rigid. Then he hugged me.

"Becca, don't even think about getting rid of me in this lifetime. If you don't want this house anymore, then after the New Year, we'll get a new one. Okay?"