I gripped my stomach, panting heavily. At that instant, I could not decide whether my body ached more or my heart suffered more.

Early the following morning, I saw Clayton wearing an apron in front of the stove, his actions smooth and patient. Verity looked up at him with gentle brows, carefully dabbing away his sweat.

If strangers had seen this moment, they would think they were the true family, and I was simply an extra presence.

I held back the urge to vomit and walked over to take a seat.

When Clayton noticed me, he spoke softly, “Wife, you’re awake? I made seafood. It’s your favorite shrimp and grits. Try some.”

I lowered my gaze to the shrimp and grits inside the bowl, my mind slightly blank.

I clearly remembered that before Clayton and I officially got together, because my stomach was weak, he cooked shrimp and grits for me daily. At that time, I often skipped meals due to work, and he was the one who watched over me and would not let me go hungry.

Was that tenderness only a performance?

Were those ten years of love only an act?

While my mind was still in a mess, Verity took the lead to ladle a bowl of shrimp and grits for me and carefully passed it over.

“Sister-in-law, thank you for allowing me to stay here. Last night, I truly caused trouble for my brother. He kept looking after me, and you’re pregnant, yet had to sleep alone. I feel very sorry about that.”

My heart tightened, and the small warmth that had risen because of the shrimp and grits faded instantly.

Every sentence Verity spoke sounded apologetic, yet each word seemed to purposely remind me that last night Clayton chose her over me.

I did not want to answer her.

Yet suddenly her wrist tipped, and the whole bowl of steaming shrimp and grits in her hand spilled in my direction.

I backed away in panic and watched helplessly as the hot porridge scattered over the table and onto the floor.

She cried out as if startled and stumbled backward.

Immediately, Clayton had already hurried over and pulled her close.

“Verity, did you get burned?”

His voice was clearly anxious as he lowered his head and repeatedly examined her hands.

And I, the pregnant woman who should have received more care, did not even get a single glance from him.

My heart dropped.

Verity’s eyes quickly turned red, her voice shaking.

“I’m alright… brother, if sister-in-law is unhappy, I can leave… don’t waste the shrimp and grits you made yourself.”

She glanced at me timidly, as if afraid I would create a scene.

Before I could speak, Clayton had already knitted his brows.

“Celestine.”

His voice held restrained anger and blame. “No matter how upset you are or how much you dislike Verity, you shouldn’t bully her like this.”

My eyes widened, staring at him in shock, yet Clayton kept accusing me.

“The shrimp and grits are so hot. What if it had splashed on Verity’s hand and left a scar? You’re pregnant, so I tolerate you in everything, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat Verity this way.”

Suppressing the pain in my chest, I gritted my teeth and answered, “What nonsense is that? I never did such a thing. I would never stoop to that kind of behavior to bully someone!”

As soon as I finished speaking, Verity quickly shook her head and spoke up for me.

“It wasn’t sister-in-law. My hand slipped, and I didn’t hold the bowl firmly, so it spilled. It’s my fault.”

She stepped forward to take the blame, yet I felt disgusted, as though I had eaten something dirty. I had not done it at all, but after she spoke, it sounded as though she had endured all the injustice.

Clayton’s expression darkened.

“Celestine, are you still trying to put the blame on Verity? She is sensible enough to take responsibility for you, but as her sister-in-law, you shouldn’t treat a patient this way!”

I could not believe he would speak to me that way. A bitter taste rose in my throat, and I was unable to reply for a moment.

In Clayton’s eyes, had I already become the type who would set others up?

“Clayton, you don’t trust me?”

I heard myself ask with difficulty, word by word.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

Clayton’s voice lowered. “It’s just that I clearly know what kind of person Verity is.”

What kind of person was Verity?

And what kind of person was I?

I laughed out of anger and raised my hand to point at the surveillance overhead.

“There’s surveillance at home. If you want to see what really happened, you can check it right now!”

The moment I spoke about the surveillance, my heart trembled.

Since I became pregnant, Clayton had been worried about leaving me alone, so he had installed surveillance in the living room, saying it would make me feel safer.

Now it had become the means for me to defend myself.

As Clayton was about to respond, Verity cried and interrupted.

“Brother, sister-in-law, please stop fighting.”

She wiped her eyes. “It’s my fault. I made my sister-in-law misunderstand. Brother, I’m truly okay. Let’s eat quickly, or the shrimp and grits will get cold.”

Clayton exhaled slowly, seeming to regain control. He looked at me, his tone gentler.

“Sorry, wife. I misunderstood you earlier. I was only panicked because I was worried.”

I watched them perform together so smoothly, and a strong feeling of weakness filled my heart. Finally, I said in a flat tone, “Whatever you want.”

My strange reaction made Clayton hesitate. He reached over and caught my hand, trying to comfort me.

“Wife, didn’t we plan to visit the mall today to buy things for the baby? I’ll go with you.”

I almost refused right away.

But the words stopped at my mouth and went back down.

The divorce papers were not yet officially effective. I could not break things openly with Clayton at this moment.

And I worried that if he found out about the divorce, he would fight me over the child. It was better to be careful.

So I nodded.

Still, a thought remained in my heart that I did not want to face.

Maybe Clayton did not love me.

But he loved the baby.

If it were possible, I still wished that after the child was born, there would be complete love from a father.

But when I finished preparing and stepped outside, I saw Verity also standing by the door.

Before I could say anything, Clayton had already explained, “I was worried Verity would feel bored staying home alone, so I brought her with us.”

I did not respond and simply opened the door and walked out.

Behind me, Clayton seemed unused to my reaction.

The former me, even when upset or jealous, would pull him aside to talk things through, or act soft and seek his comfort.

I had never treated him as invisible like this.

Clayton looked at my back and lightly shook his head.

He only assumed I was unusually angry this time.

As he followed, he was already thinking about what presents to buy later.

After all, I had loved him deeply; if he comforted me a little, I would give in again.

At the mall, the mood between us at first could still be called peaceful.

Clayton pushed the shopping cart, lowered his head, and carefully checked the fabric of the baby clothes on the shelves. His fingers touched each piece as he asked whether this material might irritate the skin or whether that color was too dark.

He selected everything with great care, not even glancing at the price tags. Toys, feeding bottles, tiny socks, he placed them into the cart one by one, choosing only the best.

Along the way, he barely noticed Verity, fully showing an attitude of trying to make things up to me.

This was a picture I had once dreamed of many times, yet now it felt like ginger mixed into a meatball, hard to swallow.

Yet I still could not help believing that even if Clayton had wronged me and neglected this marriage, he at least sincerely expected this child and would be a responsible father.

After all, in these ten years, I had also seen that Clayton was very capable of caring for others.

Just then, the familiar and embarrassing need to use the restroom during pregnancy came again.

I told Clayton I was heading to the restroom and asked him to go to the jewelry shop to pick up the custom safety lock prepared for the baby.

Clayton agreed with a smile.

But when I left the restroom and walked toward the gold shop, I saw a scene that hurt my eyes.

Standing before the gold shop counter, just below Verity’s collarbone, hung a familiar item.

It was the safety lock I had personally selected the design for, adjusted the size for, and waited half a month to have crafted for the baby.

Blood rushed to my head, and my stomach rolled violently.

I nearly ran forward to snatch the safety lock back.

Before I could reach the lock, someone grabbed my wrist hard. I lost my balance and stumbled back a step.

Clayton stood in front of me, his brows drawn tight. “Wife, what are you doing?”

I stared at him, my voice shaking. “Clayton, I should be asking you that. Why did you give the safety lock I prepared for the baby to Verity?”

Verity seemed shocked and leaned closer into Clayton’s arms, but her fingers clutched the lock tightly, her eyes reddening instantly.

She spoke in a soft and gentle tone. “Sister-in-law, please don’t be angry. I’ve never had a safety lock before. Earlier, my chest felt a little uncomfortable. After wearing it, I suddenly felt better. Maybe… this lock and I are meant to be.”

“If you mind, I can pay for it. Please let me keep this lock, alright?”

I looked at the lock on her chest and coldly laughed. “This was prepared for my child, not something for you to use to treat illness!”

Clayton softened his voice and told me, “Wife, alright, don’t cause a scene. I’ll buy you an even better one, okay? Let Verity have this one. It’s rare to have such a fate.”

I looked up at him and suddenly felt that the man before me was like a stranger.

“Fate? Does it have fate just because you say it does?”

I questioned him, word by word. “This belongs to my child. She isn’t qualified to take it!”

I shook off Clayton’s hand and reached toward the red cord to untie it.

Before my fingers could touch it, Verity suddenly clutched her chest. Her face grew white, and her body seemed unable to support itself as she slid down.

“Brother…” she said weakly, tears dropping immediately, “my heart feels very uncomfortable.”

Clayton almost instinctively caught her in his arms, his face changing sharply, his voice anxious. “Don’t speak. I’ll take you to the hospital!”

I remained where I was, watching him carry her away, my heart feeling tightly squeezed by something invisible.

“Stop.”

I said it, but my voice trembled beyond control.

Clayton turned around, impatience and anger written across his face.

“What more do you want? Verity is already having an episode, and you’re still standing here arguing out of jealousy for what? Do you realize you look like a mad, jealous woman right now? Celestine, when did you become like this?”

“You used to be thoughtful and fair!”

Jealous woman?

I stared at the man before me with deep disappointment, but inside I was strangely calm, no longer controlled by him.

I inhaled deeply, my nails digging into my skin. “If you want to leave, then go. Give back the safety lock.”

His expression went completely cold. “Celestine, you’ve gone too far. Can’t you even let go of such a small item? She’s having a heart attack, and you’re still arguing over this. How can you be so heartless?”

“You’re being completely unreasonable!”

The baby had not even been born, yet Clayton was already able to hand over the baby’s belongings to Verity just because she felt unwell.

Then, after the child was born?

If Verity felt upset, would the child be beaten and scolded as she pleased?

That thought made my entire body go cold.

I did not move forward to stop him again and slowly released my grip.

At that moment, I completely made my decision.

Clayton was no longer qualified to have any connection with my child.

After I left, I would cut all ties with Clayton and find a new father for the baby, so she could receive full fatherly love, but it would not be Clayton.

Clayton’s steps slowed, and for no clear reason, unease crossed his heart. His grip on Verity tightened, and he hesitated slightly.

As he was about to speak, Verity softly called out to him, her tone weak and relying on him.

He immediately regained his focus and walked away faster.

I saw Clayton lift Verity and walk away into the crowd. I breathed in deeply and, holding my belly, was ready to head back to pack my things and get ready to go.

But right when I turned around, a loud alarm suddenly echoed from above the shopping center, and right after that came many sharp cries.

“Fire!”

“Run! There is a fire!”

The calm mall quickly turned into a mess.

Heavy smoke quickly spread from an unknown place, the strong smell of something burning rushed toward us, and the people, like frightened animals, wildly pushed toward the exits.

Without thinking, I covered my belly, my heart jumping up into my throat.

I noticed Clayton not far away, his expression suddenly changing. Almost by instinct, he pulled Verity tightly into his arms, one hand shielding the back of her head, the other forcing a path through the crowd as he pulled her toward the closest exit.

At such a risky time, as his wife, he did not even look back at me once.

I was pushed by the crowd until I could barely keep my balance. My back hit hard against the rail, and a tight, dropping pain in my stomach instantly made my face go pale.

“Move aside…”

My voice shook. “I am pregnant…”

But nobody was able to catch my words.

Right when I was close to falling, Clayton suddenly looked back and noticed me.

Our eyes met for a short second in the chaos.

At a time between living and dying, people were weak. I formed a foolish hope, hoping Clayton would pull me to safety.

But in the very next moment, Clayton strongly shoved my heavy body ahead.

“Go ahead, do not block the path!”

His voice sounded rushed. “Wife, let me bring Verity outside first; her body cannot hold on. Any compensation you ask for, I will hand it to you later!”

I was roughly pushed ahead by the crowd, my body losing control, my belly hard hitting the line of people in front.

Severe pain burst out from my lower belly.

Sadness, hurt, anger, breakdown… many mixed feelings rushed hard through my chest.

I truly wanted to question Clayton if he even had a heart at all?!

Clayton held her close, almost using his own body to take every hit for her.

His choice was already very clear. What else could I still hope for?

As my awareness slowly grew unclear, I suddenly thought of many past events.

Five years earlier, I suddenly got a very high fever and was taken to the hospital, needing a blood transfusion.

I lay on the hospital bed, burning up and not fully awake. The doctor said my blood type was rare, and matching blood could not be found at that time.

I was extremely scared, gripping Clayton’s hand and shaking without stopping.

But he did not even crease his brows, simply pushing up his sleeve and telling the doctor, “Use mine.”

When the needle went into his arm, his face clearly paled, yet he still bent down near me and gently spoke to calm me.

“Wife, do not worry. I am here.”

Back then, I truly believed he would forever shield me in this way.

But now?

Ten years of love, all the time together, and the promises, in the fire and heavy smoke, were burned clean.

No, or maybe from the start, it was only my own wishful thinking.

The rescue personnel finally arrived, and the people were forced to evacuate.

I was no longer able to endure. My entire body dropped onto the floor, the ache in my belly feeling like it would tear me open.

The last image that stayed in my sight was Clayton lifting Verity and taking her out of the mall.

She only had small scratches, yet he looked so worried as if he had lost everything.

He gently set her onto the stretcher, again and again asking if she felt unwell, until the doctor nodded and said she was alright. Only then did he seem to lose all power and sway a little.

At that moment, somebody finally saw that his lower back had been burned by the fire, his clothes ripped, and his skin red and torn.

Even like that, he still would not let go of Verity’s hand.

I lay on the ground, my eyes hurting, feeling only bitterness. I slowly closed my eyes and, in my heart, took away one of the last two so-called “life-saving chances.”