Erica's voice was soft, but every word drove into me like a knife.

My mind went blank. Tears streamed down my cheeks, blurring everything. I didn't think—I just tore myself from Reece's grip and stumbled down the stairs, barely able to keep upright.

Outside, the rain was coming down hard, but I didn't care. I ran through the courtyard to the neighborhood garbage depot and began rummaging, bag by bag, looking for anything that had once belonged to my children.

"Lucy, wake up. They're gone. The kids are gone. Doing this isn't going to change anything," Reece said as he held an umbrella over me, trying to pull me into his arms. "Come home with me."

"My children are still alive in my heart," I said, my voice breaking. "You already have a new child. Maybe you've moved on—but I haven't!"

"I haven't forgotten either. But what do you want from me? To live the rest of my life drowned in grief and depression?" His grip on the umbrella tightened until his knuckles whitened.

He continued, "You keep going on and on. Do you know how hard this is on Erica? She's carrying my child, Lucy. She's been putting up with whispers and stares just to give birth to this baby. Her situation's hard enough as it is."

"You three can go home and play happy family. Leave me out of it," I spat.

I didn't want to hear his voice anymore. I kept digging through trash, ignoring the blood now trickling from my scraped fingers.

"I found it," I whispered.

From the depths of a torn black trash bag, I pulled out a familiar shape—a Barbie doll I had once bought for my daughter. I clutched it to my chest like a lost relic, a lifeline to the past.

"I found it, sweetheart. Mommy found your doll. Your clothes, your blanket, your toys... I have them all now," I said, pressing the filthy bag to me as if I were cradling my children themselves.

"That's enough!" Reece barked. "You've really lost it!"

He snatched the bag from my arms and threw it to the ground. Then he grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him.

"Lucy. Our kids died four years ago. They were never even born. They're gone!"

Yes, they were long gone.

In all these years, Reece had never once mentioned them. Maybe he had truly forgotten. But I hadn't. I couldn't.

"I just wanted to keep something of theirs," I said quietly, trying to make him understand. "If I forget them too, then no one in this world will remember those poor, innocent children."

"When Erica gives birth, her job is done. She told me herself—she doesn't want a title, doesn't want any inheritance. She won't bother us after that. Then you'll have a real child, Lucy. One that's truly yours. You'll be his only mother. You can buy him toys, love him with everything you have. But you have to stop living like this. I know what happened broke you. Don't think I don't care. I care more than anyone. All I ever wanted was to give you a real home."

He held me tight, pressing my face into his shoulder. His hand gently patted my back.

"I love you, Lucy. I don't want to see you like this anymore."

Then he kissed my forehead.

He was just about to drape his coat over my shoulders when he caught sight of Erica in the distance, standing in the rain, drenched and looking pitiful.

At once, he turned from me and ran to her.

"Why did you come out in this rain?" he scolded, voice full of worry. "You're pregnant, Erica! You can't be out here like this."

"I'm sorry, Reece. I was just worried. You'd been gone so long... I thought something happened," she said, clinging to his waist.

Reece stroked her hair and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

"I'll take her back first," he said to me. "She's pregnant. If she stays in the rain any longer, she'll get sick. Just wait for me."

I bent down and picked up the items from the trash.

"If it really means that much to you... you can bring them back. I won't stop you," he said hesitantly, glancing toward Erica.

"No need. You're right. These things don't mean anything anymore."

"That's better. You've always been so good at listening to me. Once the baby's born, you can spoil him. We'll buy him the best toys."

The rain finally let up, as if it had washed away the obsession I had been clinging to all these years.

Reece was right, I suppose.

I had spent so long guarding those old memories, keeping them safe as if they could change the past. Who was I fooling?

But the Reece who had asked me to wait for him never came back.

"My babies... from now on, you'll live quietly in my heart. I'll never wait for Reece ever again. He doesn't deserve my love."

Upon returning home, I found Reece in the kitchen, crafting a mango cake for Erica. He'd never ventured into culinary endeavors before, let alone baking.

"Erica had a craving for mango cake," he explained. "I didn't want the baby to go hungry, so I decided to make one. Would you like a taste?"

"Reece is the best to my baby," Erica chimed in, her smile smug. "He said you could find your way back; he wanted to make the cake himself, didn't trust anyone else to do it right."

I ignored them and ascended the stairs. Reece had forgotten my allergy to mangoes.

The next morning, Erica barged into my room, her pregnant belly leading the way.

"When are you moving out? You're divorcing Reece anyway. Staying here, watching him care for me—doesn't it hurt?"

I tried to rise, but dizziness overtook me. My breathing quickened, and a fever flushed my face.

"You should be sensible. You've miscarried and can't give Reece a child. You're unnecessary here."

Erica had taken my children, and now she sought to erase me entirely. Reece always excused her behavior, indulging her whims without question. I was just an outsider now.

"Lucy, what's wrong?" Reece appeared, concern in his eyes. He reached out, but Erica feigned a faint, collapsing into his arms.

"Call a doctor!" he shouted, cradling her, not sparing me another glance.

The housekeeper said, "Please wait a moment, Ms. Malcolm. Have some water. The doctor is coming."

I drifted into unconsciousness. The promised doctor never arrived.

By evening, I awoke and checked my phone. Reece, once averse to social media, had posted a photo: Erica, radiant with a wine glass, surrounded by his friends on a countryside retreat.

When I was pregnant, Reece claimed I was too cumbersome, too picky, a damper on any outing. I stayed home alone. Now, he paraded Erica, pregnant, before his circle.

I had been feverish for a day and night, too weak to move. The housekeeper found me unconscious and rushed me to the hospital, then called Reece.

"Didn't I say not to disturb me unless it's urgent?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's Madam... she's unconscious, burning with fever."

Reece's tone shifted instantly. "What? Lucy? She's in critical condition?"

He dropped everything and instructed the driver, "To the hospital, now. As fast as possible."