Thinking back on all this, I took a deep breath. Then, ignoring Mr. Blanchard's mockery, I turned to Gwen and said, "I have something for you."

Gwen froze for a moment, then smiled with relief. "Now that's more like it. You're finally starting to act like a father. Are you planning to give Quintin a gold pendant or a gold bracelet?"

I handed her my resignation letter.

The moment they saw the words "resignation letter", every face in the room changed.

Gwen's mother, Martina Jensen, slammed her glass onto the floor. "My daughter didn't go out there and build a company just so you could sit around at home, doing nothing and living off her! Why can't you be more like Keith?

"Just last week he helped Gwen close a major deal with a profit of at least a few million dollars. He's younger than you and has way more drive. You're too old to be this shameless. What good are you?"

I looked at the floor covered in shattered glass, and all I could do was laugh at how absurd it all was.

I was only a year older than Keith, yet Mrs. Blanchard made it sound as if I were some washed-up middle-aged man who had squandered his life away.

Besides, when it came to actual ability, Keith was nowhere near my level.

When Keith first graduated from college, he went nearly half a year without finding a job. In the end, it was through Gwen's connections that he even got a job at the company.

But he kept messing up even the most basic formulations. He was on the verge of being fired when he came to me, crying and begging for help.

He swore he had no more designs on Gwen and just wanted to earn money to provide for his parents. Only then did I start to guide him through everything, step by step.

But within just half a year, he decided he'd learned everything he needed from me and began spreading lies behind my back. The next thing I knew, I was being frozen out by everyone.

Just last week, he screwed up the project by entering the wrong data. Yet, he insisted I had deliberately altered the numbers to get even with him. The client terminated the contract, and we lost a deal worth well over ten million dollars.

Gwen didn't even give me a chance to explain. Without a second word, she demoted me and slashed my salary until I was earning less than the newly hired interns.

So, I simply handed in my resignation. Given my research achievements, even if I were blacklisted domestically, there would be plenty of companies overseas that would fall over themselves to hire me.

I figured this was as good a chance as any to make a clean break from Gwen.

Seeing that I remained silent, Mrs. Blanchard grew even more disdainful. "Are you deaf? I'm talking to you! Can't you see Quintin has soiled his diaper and needs changing? Hurry up and deal with it—are you trying to suffocate us with the stench?"

Only then did Gwen finally look up at me. "Don't upset Mom on such a happy day. We'll talk about the resignation next week when HR is back in the office. Just go change Quintin's diaper now."

Still, I didn't move.

Seeing the tension mounting, Keith glanced around shiftily and suddenly said with feigned concern, "Mrs. Blanchard, please don't be angry. Ernest must be worn out from work. I'm young—I've got plenty of energy, and I actually like doing chores around the house when I'm off work. Let me change Quintin's diaper."

But before he could even make a move, Gwen cut him off.

"You don't have to do that," she said, a pained look on her face. "You're Quintin's father; you need to stay and watch him. Since Ernest wants to resign, let him do the grunt work. It'll be a good cure for his laziness and teach him just how hard it is to earn a living."

All I could feel was how utterly absurd it all was. Keith was all talk; he couldn't even be bothered to empty his own trash bin at work. In fact, it would sit there overflowing for a week straight.

And what about all those years? Both Mr. and Mrs. Blanchard had been in poor health, constantly shuttling back and forth to the hospital. After Mr. Blanchard's stroke left him incontinent, even the hired caregivers couldn't bring themselves to handle it. It was me who personally took care of everything.

But now, just because I wouldn't change Quintin's diaper, I was suddenly branded a good-for-nothing lazy bum.

It was so painfully clear whether Gwen loved me or not.

Snapping back to the moment, I threw the clean diaper onto the floor and said firmly, "I'm not going to change his diaper. Whoever's kid it is can deal with it. Besides, it's not like—"

Before I could finish, Gwen slapped me hard across the face, cutting me off.

"Figures. What else do you expect from an orphan? No one ever taught you any manners. What gives you the right to talk back to my mother in front of everyone?"

When he saw me get slapped in public, Keith could barely keep from laughing.

Keith, seizing the moment while everyone's attention was elsewhere, sneakily pinched Quintin. The baby immediately burst into wailing cries.

Gwen's expression darkened instantly. As she tried to soothe Quintin, she demanded, "Ernest, what exactly are you trying to do? Ever since you got back, you've been causing one trouble after another—first the resignation, now the disrespect.

"I already heard from the hotel staff that you arranged the wedding setup. If you still want to marry me, then apologize to my mother right now! I can let bygones be bygones and allow you to continue as Quintin's father in name, to take care of us both."

Hearing this, I laughed inwardly.

Everyone believed I was hopelessly in love with Gwen that I would stick around even as her unpaid nanny just to stay by her side. However, they all overlooked one thing. It was true I had arranged the wedding setup, but I never said I was the one marrying her.

With that thought, I replied calmly, "Then let's not get married. Gwen, I'm breaking up with you."

A stunned silence fell over everyone.

Gwen froze for a second, then seemed to realize something and let out a contemptuous smirk. "You want to break up with me? Ernest, what kind of brain rot have you been watching online? Are you trying to play hard to get now? You think if you threaten to leave, I'll drop everything and come begging you to stay?

"Know your place. If it weren't for my family, you would've starved to death out there long ago. Instead of wasting energy on these pathetic schemes, how about you focus on serving my family properly? Maybe I'll consider giving you a chance, then."

I was utterly speechless.

"You told me you were afraid of getting married and having children. You asked me to wait, to give you a little more time. Well, I have been waiting for ten years now.

"I left to study abroad, and then you turned around and had Keith's baby. What, was I supposed to just roll over and accept being cheated on?"

At my question, Gwen put on a smile that said she'd seen this coming all along.

"I knew it—you really are just jealous of Keith! Only someone with a filthy mind would see it that way. You think everyone is as sleazy as you? Quintin was conceived through IVF, so I haven't done anything to betray you. Besides, your whole family is a bunch of short-lived, low-IQ, disease-ridden weaklings.

"Am I not even allowed to borrow superior, strong genes for Quintin? How can you be so selfish and not think about Quintin's future at all? As his mother, am I wrong for wanting him to be better and more exceptional?"

As Gwen spouted her twisted logic, her relatives began pointing fingers at me too. They belittled me as petty, narrow-minded, and completely worthless.

But instead of getting angry, I just found it laughable.

My parents died young because they were part of a classified national experiment back in the day. They were exposed to too many chemicals and passed away from cancer. They gave their lives for science, and the nation posthumously awarded them medals of honor for their sacrifice.

As for the wreck my body had become, Gwen had more than a little to do with that.

Back then, she had jumped into starting a business on a whim. She had no connections or understanding of corporate networking; in fact, all she had was a warehouse full of products and no clients in sight.

It was me who ran myself ragged day after day, swallowing my pride and handling the drinking and schmoozing at all those business dinners. Little by little, I built the company's reputation from nothing.

But over time, my health went to ruin. I developed a stomach condition so severe that even the slightest cold or spicy food would send me into uncontrollable spasms and vomiting. And Gwen? She never once noticed any of it.

Now, seeing that I had become the target of everyone's scorn, Keith could barely keep the smirk off his face. Yet, he still had the nerve to step forward, playing the part of the peacemaker.

"Ernest, this is all my fault. I don't know my place. I let myself start thinking I was part of this family. At the end of the day, I'm just an outsider who provided some genes for Quintin.

"Me staying here will only get in the way of your family's happiness. Just let me take one last look at Quintin, and I'll leave right away."

He even managed to squeeze out a few tears, putting on the perfect picture of wounded innocence.

Gwen's heart melted on the spot. She stopped him and said, "Keith, how could any of this be your fault? Ernest is the one who doesn't know what's good for him!"

"Ernest has no family left. Who else would take him in besides us? He wouldn't dare leave, and he has nowhere to go. He's just putting on a pitiful act, trying to make me grovel and beg him to stay for once," Gwen said.

I couldn't be bothered to explain anymore, so I went to the bedroom to pack my things.

It was pathetic, really. After ten years together, aside from a few washed-out shirts, there was hardly anything that belonged to me.

The entire house was filled with either baby supplies and toys Gwen had bought for Quintin, or her designer handbags and brand-name coats, each worth tens of thousands of dollars.

In less than ten minutes, I was done packing.

Seeing me dragging my suitcase out, ready to leave, Keith remarked with feigned nonchalance, "Gwen, it doesn't look like Ernest is joking."

Gwen froze for a moment, then hurried over.

I thought she wanted to stop me, to make me stay. I was just about to refuse when she grabbed hold of my suitcase.

"These are all my things. You've been living under my roof, eating my food—what gives you the right to take any of this with you?"

I let out a cold laugh and nodded. Then, I dropped the suitcase and turned to walk out. But Mr. and Mrs. Blanchard were already blocking the doorway.

"Hold it right there! Name one thing on you right now that wasn't bought with Gwen's money."

"If you're leaving, then leave everything behind!"

Every relative in the room had their eyes on me, enjoying the spectacle, fully expecting me to cave in and apologize. After all, in their eyes, I was just playing hard to get. Now that I'd been exposed in front of everyone, they thought I was just putting on a stubborn act of leaving to try and salvage some sympathy.

Seeing me standing there in silence, Gwen put on a smug, unsurprised smile. "I knew it. Alright, I'm not trying to make things impossibly difficult for you. As long as you—"

Before she could finish, I flung my coat off and walked over to the side. Then, I opened my suitcase and pulled out a single suit.

It was a suit my parents had custom-made for me before they passed away. They had wanted to see me wear it on the day I got married and started a family on my own. Now, I had no choice but to put it on sooner than planned.

I looked up at Gwen, my gaze ice-cold. "This is the only thing my parents left me. I don't want anything else. Gwen, from this moment on, we're even."

Gwen seemed caught off guard by how resolute I was. She stood frozen in place.

But Keith seized the chance to fan the flames from the sidelines. "Ernest, don't be hasty. Mr. and Mrs. Blanchard were just speaking out of anger. You and Gwen have ten years of history—if you walk away now, what about the wedding?"

Gwen, however, just scoffed dismissively. "Keith, don't bother trying to talk him down. Let him go. His family is gone, so where's he going to go anyway? Besides, the wedding is already set up, and the invitations have all been sent out.

"He clung to me for ten years just to get this chance, so there's no way he'd give it up. I bet you that within a week, he'll come crawling back, begging me to marry him."

I couldn't help but let out a bitter, ironic laugh.

Over the years, I'd lost my parents, sold the house they left me to fund Gwen's business, and even deposited every single paycheck straight into her account.

She was so convinced I'd never leave her that, over the years, she had gotten more and more brazen about staying tangled up with Keith.

But she was wrong. She was never my only choice. And if she had actually cared even a little about our wedding, she would have noticed—when she opened the digital invitation on Instagram—that the bride's name written on it was never hers to begin with.

With that thought in mind, I borrowed a phone on the street and made a call.

In less than 15 minutes, a silver stretch Lincoln pulled up in front of me.

The driver opened the rear door, and a woman in elegant attire stepped out, walking straight up to me. She handed me an expensive suit and a brand-new phone.

"That Gwen must be out of her mind. You two were together for ten years—did she really have to be so heartless? Back then, if it weren't for your research, that joke of a company of hers would have gone under long ago."