Roger's mistress was ill.

When our daughter was born, he brought her into our home. He frowned, saying, "The baby's blood can save Alaina; make sure she gets plenty to eat so we can take blood." "She'll cry at night; move to the spare bedroom so she doesn't disturb Alaina's rest."

I wiped away my tears, packed our things, and walked out holding my child. Cataleya, the nursemaid, tried to stop me, but Roger sneered at me openly: "Let her go. She has no family, and she's been a housewife for years; I'm curious where she'll end up!"

Even in front of me, he embraced Alaina and kissed her deeply. But he didn't know—I had found someone who would take my daughter away.

I didn't have much time left.

---

After the complications during childbirth, I was weak. I cradled my daughter as I walked out. Roger suddenly shouted, "Wait, leave the baby. Alaina needs a transfusion soon." My daughter slept peacefully in my arms; she was my miracle, and I couldn't believe Roger's callousness.

I held her tighter and said nothing.

Roger insisted, "It's just a blood draw; she'll be fine."

How could my newborn be reduced to nothing more than a mere source of blood for his mistress?

I didn't dare resist, just held her close. The last time I defied Roger, he threw my shoes away and left me stranded on the highway. No one stopped to help, and I walked home with bleeding feet.

I freed one hand and offered it up, "Karina and I both have rare blood types. Take mine."

His lips tightened, showing cold determination for the first time. "Meredith, you're already anemic. You want to die?"

"Alright, if you relent, I can wait until the baby gains more weight."

Ignoring him, I turned to leave. Just then, Alaina coughed violently and collapsed. Seeing his beloved suffer, Roger was devastated.

He rushed over, cradling her, and called their family doctor, Dr. Chapman, for help. Cataleya and Vada, the housekeeper, watched my plight with satisfaction. The day I gave birth, I almost didn't survive the operating table due to severe bleeding. Roger was at an amusement park with Alaina, enjoying carousel rides. No matter how desperately Vada described my condition, Roger coldly replied, “Handle it if it’s a real problem.”

Even when I was wheeled out, weak, he never showed up. I didn't look back at them, just cradled my daughter and tried to leave, but he grabbed my wrist.

“Where will you go? You’re an orphan now, don’t forget!”

In the next moment, both my daughter and I were pulled down with force. Fortunately, I held tight, or she’d have fallen. She wailed loudly. Roger scowled at the sound of her cries, “Make it stop!”

“Alaina’s feeling sick again. Shouldn’t you see to her blood first?”

Alaina nestled in his arms, coughing delicately. “Roger… If she wants to leave, let her go. This is my fate…”

Roger gently hushed her with his hand over her mouth, “Don’t say things like that.” He turned to me, ordering harshly, “Hurry up!”

I had no choice but to comply. Since Alaina's leukemia diagnosis, giving blood had become routine for me. Even during my periods, when I was most vulnerable, I’d be summoned to donate.

On the day of the birth, just a complaint of discomfort from Alaina led Roger to take several vials from me, despite the available blood supplies.

I looked detached, holding my daughter, kneeling before Roger, and offered my hand. "For the last time."

Seeing my frail state, his expression turned serious: "Meredith, why this look? What, are you trying to trick me into believing you’re terminally ill again?"

Yes, the day I was hospitalized, I received a cancer diagnosis. But he thought it was just lies to avoid donating blood to Alaina. He even accessed my hospital records to prove nothing was wrong.

My face remained emotionless, not responding. Dr. Chapman had arrived.

He gently laid Alaina down on the couch, while the housekeeper and nanny kept me and Karina on the carpet.

He urgently called the doctor to draw my blood.

But the doctor, after checking my condition, furrowed his brows:

"Mr. Moore, your wife has just given birth and is very weak; taking this much blood might endanger her life!"

"What about the child? She also has a rare blood type..."

Trembling, I looked at him: "No!"

The doctor shook his head: "The child is too small, Mr. Moore, and actually, the blood from the blood bank would work just fine for Ms. Butler."

Roger hesitated for a moment.

Alaina tightened her grip on his hand and shook her head: "Roger, if it's blood from the blood bank, you might as well let me die..."

Without further hesitation, he said, "Do it."

I said calmly, "Go ahead, but after this, let's finalize the divorce."

Anger flashed across his face, "It's just a blood draw! You're not going to die, why are you being so dramatic?"

I held Karina close and closed my eyes, feeling no emotional turmoil.

The pain brought a harsh clarity to my mind.

After the blood was drawn, I wobbled, nearly fainting.

Roger carried Alaina to the bedroom for the transfusion.

Unable to hold on any longer, I passed out.

When I woke up, the hospital's antiseptic smell was overwhelming; I quickly looked for my child.

Seeing Karina peacefully asleep beside me, I sighed in relief.

Roger came in carrying supplies, exhaustion written across his face.

Seeing me awake, he returned to his previous cold demeanor.

"See, you're not dead, right? The doctor said you need to gain weight."

I nodded quietly, "Got it."

He handed me a bowl of chicken broth, rich and creamy.

"You always liked the broth I make when you're sick. I couldn't get your favorite chicken, so I used something else."

I didn't let him feed me; instead, I drank several mouthfuls on my own.

His face relaxed as he got up to fetch me water.

Seeing dozens of missed calls on my phone made my heart race.

Just then, another call came in.

I was about to hang up when Roger stood at the door with the water, watching me coldly:

"Who is it?"

He used to be indifferent to these things, but now he was acting strangely.

I looked up with indifference.

"A spam call, about loans. Roger, I've been sick and broke, maybe you could lend me some money?"

His eyes flashed with anger as he grabbed my neck.

"Meredith, how long are you going to keep deceiving me? Joking about a terminal illness, is that funny?"

"Without my say-so, don't even think about dying! I won't allow it!"

Roger rarely behaved so domineeringly toward me; it was one of the few moments I could feel he cared for me.

But now, his phone kept buzzing with notifications.

He released me, picked up the phone, and his expression softened significantly before he quickly left the room.

With a hint of excitement, I switched to the other system on my phone and sent a message to that person.

Roger might check my phone, but he didn't know about my dual system.

"Meredith, why haven't I been able to reach you? Do you not want to come?"

"Unexpected issues, I'm still in the hospital."

"What? Has your condition worsened? I can’t leave, but I’ll send a doctor over right away!"

"No need! I can still hold on. I'll come by in a week."

Sensing Roger about to come in, I switched back to the other system, maintaining a blank expression.

Seeing my clear, focused gaze disturbed him, as if something unsettling was creeping into his chest.

He reached over, took my phone, and saw the cancer warning on the screen. He angrily tossed the phone onto the bed.

"Meredith, stop playing these games! I'll give you two days to think about where you went wrong!"