It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me, suffocating every breath.

As expected, you can act, but you can’t fake your social life.

When I first tried to fit in, everyone seemed as friendly as angels.

But I took their politeness seriously. They were impenetrable fortresses, and I, forever, the unacceptable outsider.

The cramps worsened, and I trembled as I pulled out my phone, snapping pictures and saving them page by page.

By the time Ethan came in to retrieve his phone, I was already curled up on the sofa in pain.

He didn’t even glance at me, eager to leave.

"Wife, my brothers want to go on a cruise. You’re pregnant and can’t join them, so don’t get involved."

My face went pale as I tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"I have a stomachache. Will you come to the hospital with me?"

Asking questions I already knew the answers to was my last chance to give him a way out.

If he insisted on leaving, I wouldn’t want him anyway.

In the deadlock, Tara smacked her lips and urged, "Hurry up! It’s scorching!"

Ethan shook my hand off, impatience etched across his face.

"What are you pretending to? You were fine just now. I hate it when you bring up the kids."

He shoved me back onto the sofa, and my heart sank.

Tara came in from outside and grabbed Ethan’s ear.

"Are you trying to kill yourself? Why so aggressive? Aren’t all pregnant women like this? They always want everyone around. What’s wrong with being a little caring?"

Ethan snorted, disdain dripping from his words.

"If she were even a tenth as good as you, I wouldn’t be so bothered."

His gaze dropped to Tara’s shoulder straps, and he reached out, adjusting them with effortless ease.

"Little idiot! Can’t you see it’s loose?"

Tara swiped her hair aside, giggling.

"Be gentle! You’re hurting me."

Ethan pressed down on them, grinning wickedly.

"No way! It’s just an airport."

Amidst their laughter, they disappeared around the corner.

I called Henry Morgan directly: "I’ll meet you at your cruise ship later."

The other end replied, "Okay."

Ethan had no idea that Henry was my childhood sweetheart. Over twenty years of unwavering friendship—I knew better than anyone what pure loyalty looked like.

Six years of love, from school uniforms to wedding dresses.

I wanted to see for myself just how rotten this relationship had become at its root.

The sea breeze was salty and fishy.

On the deck of the luxury cruise ship, screams and laughter mingled.

I, wearing sunglasses and a mask, leaned against the railing.

I watched Tara, in a bikini, sitting close to Ethan, who was only in swimming trunks.

A cheesy game of passing tissues ensued.

Tara deliberately bit the tissue until only a corner remained, and Ethan tried to grab it but failed.

"Ethan lost! Accept your punishment!"

Someone jeered, "How about confessing your love publicly? How about Tara?"

Tara giggled and collapsed onto Ethan’s lap, punching his chest lightly.

"Oh, so embarrassing!"

Another shouted, "What’s the point of confessing after all this?"

"Tara, what exactly happened? Tell us everything!"

Everyone laughed, but Tara suddenly turned blunt:

"Look at you! A monkey stealing peaches!"

Ethan swiftly blocked her playful attack, scolding jokingly, "You’re so rebellious!"

Amid the banter, he accidentally grabbed the string of her swimsuit, and it slipped loose.

Tara screamed, and Ethan, almost reflexively, hugged her tightly and yelled, "Turn around! Don’t look!"

The waves rolled beneath them.

He gently helped her tie the string again, his fingertips brushing her bare back.

Their eyes locked, sparks flew. At that moment, I watched the man I loved, standing in the sun, become a protector of another woman.

And I, fully armed with my bitterness, hid in a shadowed corner like a cockroach, peering into someone else’s happiness.

It was pathetic to see the father of my child instinctively shielding another woman.

Beside me, Henry instinctively moved forward, but I stopped him firmly.

After a long hesitation, I called Ethan.

From a distance, I saw his phone light up.

He glanced at it.

The phone rang once, then again.

He simply stared, never answering.

Tara pouted as she read the note: “wife.”

“You promised to stay with me. Don’t be distracted, and neither can she. Otherwise, I’ll ignore you.”

Ethan smiled, raised his hand, and dropped the phone into a glass overflowing with water.

He arched an eyebrow and said, “My little princess, satisfied now?”

Seeing Tara finally nod, Ethan lifted her above his head and spun her around.

The sea breeze carried her gleeful screams.

By the time I put down the phone I had been recording with, my tears had soaked through my mask.

Six years of my relationship with Ethan had amounted to nothing.

I steeled myself for hell to come.

Tired from playing, the group sat down to chat.

Tara’s voice drifted on the wind:

“Actually, on the night of Ethan’s wedding, I got drunk and said I just wanted to marry anyone. But he got so angry, he came to me in Nicole’s wedding dress.”

“Funny, right? We just played house like we did as kids, worshipping the moon and heaven and earth.”

My heart twisted. I thought of the custom wedding dress I had been waiting for. Ethan had said it was stained, sent it to the cleaners, and then lost it.

Tara smiled:

“I was joking, saying that after praying to heaven and earth, it was true—I wouldn’t marry again. But I wanted a child, and I was scared of the pain. Guess what this idiot did?”

Ethan smiled, drinking, saying nothing to stop her.

Encouraged by the crowd, Tara added proudly,

“He actually took it seriously! Then he actually took me to get embryo culture!”

She blinked, signaling for Ethan to continue.

“Ethan, what about the child?”

Ethan tilted his head back, finishing his drink, eyes dark.

“What’s in Nicole’s belly right now is Tara and I’s test-tube baby.”

Boom—

My mind exploded, and everything went blank.

I could hear Henry cursing, “Bastard!” and see Ethan’s indifferent gaze.

I clutched my stomach. It seemed to sense my grief and moved violently.

But all I felt was irony.

From the very start of our pregnancy preparations, Ethan had lied, claiming his sperm motility was low and that IVF had a better chance.

For countless days and nights, I took medication until I felt sick, my belly covered in purple pinpricks.

On the day the pregnancy succeeded, he had gently leaned against my belly and said,

“Dear baby, Daddy will make you and Mommy the happiest people in the world.”

Those words had never been meant for me.

Tara’s voice drifted again, laced with contempt:

“Ethan is so clever! Look at Nicole, completely out of shape. Tsk tsk, I don’t want to become a shrew like her.”

I couldn’t listen anymore and turned to leave.

Suddenly, a huge wave hit, and the cruise ship rocked violently.

Tara, standing on the edge, was flung backward.

Without hesitation, Ethan grabbed the lifebuoy and jumped in, swimming toward her.

I was completely stunned.

He was clearly a landlubber.

He had always said he was most afraid of water!

And yet, he had risked his life for her.

I turned away, unwilling to witness the heroic rescue again, and headed straight to the hospital for an abortion.

The anesthetic coursed through me, and as my consciousness blurred, one thought consumed me:

Ethan, you can get out now.

When I opened my eyes again,

Only Henry, eyes red-rimmed, stood by the bed.

I instinctively touched my belly—it was flat.

A long-lost sense of relief washed over me.

I turned my head, voice hoarse: "Where’s Ethan?"

Henry turned and handed me a video.

The screen trembled. On the beach, Tara cried as she administered artificial respiration to Ethan.

When he awoke, coughing violently, she immediately hugged him tightly.

"Ethan, I can’t go against my will anymore!"

"I love you! Ethan, you big fool! I love you!"

Amidst the cheers of onlookers, they clung together, drenched in sweat.

The mermaid had saved her prince.

Their love was unwavering.

And I… I was that pathetic, ridiculous bubble.

The bubble burst in the sunlight, turning into tears that streamed down my cheeks.

The second video showed Ethan carrying Tara sideways into the hotel.

At the same time, an unfamiliar message appeared on my phone:

"Honey, my phone dropped in the water. I’m borrowing a friend’s phone to text you. I’m busy here, so I won’t be home tonight. Good night to you and the baby~"

I stared at it for a long, long time.

Then, I slowly sat up.

"Henry, help me put the aborted fetus in the foam box."

"Hire a gong and drum troupe, all the gossipy ones."

Henry frowned. "What are you trying to do?"

I said, word for word:

"Of course I’ll take this generous gift to the hotel, with drums and gongs blaring, to celebrate my husband’s concubine!"

The gong and drum band were in position. I immediately started the livestream, feigning distress.

"Family, the anchor has a real headache lately. Her husband says his friendship with his girlfriend is pure, but I don’t think so."

Comments poured in instantly:

[You’re being jealous! Pure friendships between men and women can exist.]

[I can tell the anchor is narrow-minded.]

I shook my head in denial.

[No, no, no! The anchor isn’t narrow-minded at all. Ever since the conflict with my husband’s female brother, she’s learned her lesson.]

I paused, watching the livestream numbers skyrocket.

If they really were having an affair, the anchor would not hesitate—she would immediately find a concubine for her husband.

Curses and sympathy flew across the chat.

Following an online tutorial, I obtained the hotel room card and led the gong and drum troupe to the room.

I pushed the door open.

The room was chaotic. Two disheveled bodies were tangled in a web of passion.

I covered my mouth and screamed, "Wow! Breasts and breasts, so satisfying to touch! So satisfying to eat! Truly good brothers!"