I filed to leave Doctors Without Borders a year in advance, just so I could return home, keep my promise, and marry Dennis McMillan.

But by the time I got back, Dennis was already a father.

I overheard him telling the housekeeper, "Let Anna stay abroad a little longer. Best if she doesn't come back at all. If she finds out I have a son now, she'll definitely cause a scene."

It was only then that I understood—he had deceived me.

Three years ago, he said to me, "Go spend three years with Doctors Without Borders. Toughen yourself up. Once you are more mature, you'll be ready to be my wife."

And I was mature now. I wasn't the same girl who used to break down in tears whenever something went wrong.

My tastes had changed too. And now, I wasn't interested in someone like him anymore.

When I came home with the gift I'd carefully picked out for Dennis McMillan, the house was empty. No one was there—just a table covered in fresh flowers.

From the garden, bursts of laughter and cheer drifted in. I followed the sound, step by step.

"Dennis, you're so lucky—your son's so handsome, and your wife's beautiful too."

A man's teasing voice rang out from not far ahead.

I froze. My whole body tensed. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard.

I walked a little further and saw Dennis cradling a baby in his arms. A petite woman clung to his arm.

"Yeah," he said. "I really am lucky. And it's all down to Scarlett."

He looked at her like there was no one else in the world, brushing her hair with tender fingers.

The woman covered her mouth and laughed, eyes bright with happiness.

They looked like the perfect family of three—something out of a picture, too beautiful to touch.

I stood frozen, hidden in the shadows like a mouse, watching them.

Behind them, a banner hung on the garden wall.

[Eugene's One-Month Celebration]

Eugene…

Once, I had clung to Dennis's arm, pouting playfully. "Dennis, one day I want to have a son with you, and name him Eugene."

He asked why.

I'd smiled brightly and said, "I believe Eugene is a lucky name!"

And now, he had a son with someone else—and he'd named him Eugene.

"By the way, Dennis," someone said, "Isn't Anna coming back soon? Aren't you worried she'll make a scene when she finds out you've become a dad?"

Dennis gently stroked the baby's cheek.

"I'd almost forgotten if you hadn't reminded me."

Then he pulled out his phone and made a call.

"Have Anna stay abroad a little longer," he said. "It's better if she doesn't come back. If she finds out I have a son, she'll definitely make a fuss."

My breath caught. I took a step back, heart twisting.

Joining Doctors Without Borders had been Dennis's idea.

Three years ago, he told me I was too emotional. I cried over everything. I'd throw a fit whenever I saw him with another woman.

He said, "It's not that I don't like you. But the McMillan family is prestigious. I just don't think your temperament suits being my wife."

"How about this," he continued. "Spend three years with Doctors Without Borders. Use it to build character. Once you're steadier, you can come back and be my wife."

I believed him.

So I studied hard. I applied, pushed myself through the process.

The day I was accepted, I was overjoyed.

I thought, 'Just make it through these three years, and I'll be able to marry Dennis.'

But now I'm back, and he's already a father.

When I came to, my face was soaked with tears. The more I wiped, the more they came.

"I really don't want her to come back," Dennis said.

Dennis spoke with lazy ease, freeing one hand to lace his fingers through the woman's beside him.

"From now on, I just want to be with Scarlett. Hand in hand, for the rest of our lives."

"So sweet! I want my girlfriend to have a baby with me too!"

Laughter and cheers erupted around them.

"Dennis, have you thought about how to explain things to Anna?"

At the mention of my name, his face darkened instantly.

"I've never planned on letting her come back."

Then he turned to comfort Scarlett. "The housekeeper will handle everything. Don't worry. The only person I want beside me is you."

Snow began to fall from the sky—soft flakes landing on the tip of my nose, seeping cold into my heart.

Three years ago, the day I left, I had grabbed Dennis's hand and asked him, "Dennis, when I come back, will you really marry me?"

He'd ruffled my hair gently, voice warm. "Of course. By then, you'll be so much more mature. Don't worry, I'll wait for you. I will only ever love you."

But now I had grown up. And he was with someone else.

Why? Why did he lie to me?

My chest ached. The tears came without permission, falling faster the more I tried to wipe them away.

In those war-torn countries, I treated wounded civilians under falling bombs and gunfire.

Even then, I kept telling myself, 'I have to survive. I have to come back alive, because I'm going to marry Dennis.'

I even applied a year early to come home.

Today, I finally came back, planning to surprise Dennis. But he was the one who surprised me first.

"I heard Dennis bought a cruise ship. He's planning to marry Scarlett on board," someone said nearby.

I quickly ducked behind a tree.

"Oh my god, I'm so jealous. But what about Anna? Wasn't she the one who loved him the most?"

"You didn't hear? Three years ago, he tricked her into going abroad with Doctors Without Borders. No one even knows if she'll make it back alive. He just wanted to be with Scarlett, but was afraid Anna would throw a fit, so he sent her away. So the moment she left the country, he got together with Scarlett."

Every word struck my ears with perfect clarity.

So this was all planned. Dennis had made his calculations three years ago. And I had believed him—every single word.

The conditions abroad were so harsh, but I didn't feel the pain. I kept going because I believed: if I made it through, we'd be together.

The group walked on, offering blessings to Dennis.

Someone suddenly joked, "Dennis, after all those years Anna's been in love with you, don't you feel bad leaving her out there, working in such tough conditions?"

Dennis didn't even blink. He just kept staring at Eugene.

"She's the one who liked me. I never liked her. If it weren't for my father adopting her—and him being so fond of her—I would've cut her off long ago. You all know she's seven years younger than me. There's no way I'd like someone like that. All these years, it's always been her chasing after me."

I was sixteen when the McMillan family took me in—just starting high school. Dennis was twenty-three, already a college graduate. He had a good family, good looks, and girls constantly orbiting him.

Every time I saw him with someone else, I'd get jealous. I'd find him and say, "Dennis, can you stop getting so close to other girls?"

He'd laugh, ruffle my cheek, and say, "I'll do whatever you say, Anna."

As a teenager, I believed this was what love looked like. So I kept trying to get closer to him—learning what he liked, shaping myself into someone he would want.

At eighteen, I put on my first strapless dress and high heels. At a party, a rich young man struck up a casual conversation with me. That was all it took. Dennis dragged me into a bathroom and kissed me—hard.

His dark eyes stared into mine from beneath tousled hair. He pressed his forehead to mine and whispered, "You're mine."

From the very beginning, he was the one who gave me hope. Every gesture, every word said he liked me. But now, he says I've been the one clinging to him.

I walked away, devastated. The moment I reached the door, I broke down.

My hands trembled as I took out my phone and opened Telegram.

The most recent message from Dennis read: [Anna, happy birthday.]

At the time, I was saving a pregnant woman's life, covered in blood, running on no sleep for over twenty-four hours. But when I saw his message, all my energy came back.

I wiped away my tears and tapped the voice call button.

"Anna, what's wrong?" His voice came through the line, as gentle as ever.

He must have stepped somewhere quiet to answer—the call had rung for a long time before he picked up.

I wanted to speak, but all I could see in my mind was the image of him holding a child, standing next to another woman.

"Anna?" he called again.

I used to love how my name sounded coming from him. But now, it made my stomach churn.

"Dennis," I said. "I'm back in the country."

If he listened carefully, he could probably hear the faint tremor in my voice. But he didn't seem to notice.

There was a pause on the other end, then he asked, "You're back? Why? Where are you now? I'll come get you."

The truth is, the moment I saw him in the garden with that woman and their child, something inside me had already collapsed.

And now, he was back to being gentle again—so effortlessly tender.

"I'm at the front door," I said quietly.

This house was a gift he gave me when I turned eighteen. Back then, he told me, "No matter who you end up with, this house will always be yours. With this house, you'll never want for respect."

But now, he was living in that house with another woman. And they had a child.

By the time Dennis stepped outside, I had already pulled myself together.

He walked toward me through the snow, one slow step at a time, his eyes full of something that looked like worry.

When he reached me, he pulled me into his arms. His breath was warm against my ear.

"Anna, it's been three years. You've lost weight."

A scent of peaches clung to him, sweet and unfamiliar.

He smelled different now.

He used to carry a faint trace of tea.

I recoiled at his touch, pushing him away.

His pupils contracted for a second. Then he smiled.

"Our little Anna's all grown up. Knows the difference between men and women now. But I'm still your future husband. Don't treat me like a stranger, okay?"

Once, I thought he was a light in my world.

Back when I first came to the McMillan family, I was quiet and withdrawn. I got bullied at school all the time. One day after class, a group cornered me in an alley. Then Dennis appeared, driving a black Maybach. He pulled up and trapped those boys in the corner with his car.

Then he got out and stood in front of me.

I'll never forget the coldness in his voice as he said, "Anna is my sister. Anyone who dares lay a hand on her again won't walk away from it."