Mike cast me a cold glance, but his hand clutched Jennifer's tightly, and in his arms, he steadily held a little boy around four years old.

That gentle, doting expression of his stung my eyes and made them ache with tears.

"Sorry, I’m going to settle Jennifer and Oliver first. You can head home," he said.

His voice carried not a trace of warmth. He didn't spare Melanie even a single look—his gaze remained locked on Oliver from beginning to end.

Thinking of this, I shut my eyes in despair, my heart filled with bitterness.

After washing Melanie’s face and coaxing her to sleep with great difficulty, I noticed her tiny brows still furrowed tightly.

Even in her dreams, she murmured softly, “Daddy, I want a hug…”

That faint voice was like a sharp needle piercing straight into my already shattered heart.

I couldn’t help but wonder—if it hadn’t been for that absurd night four years ago, maybe Melanie could have grown up carefree like any other child, wrapped in her father’s love, without suffering such injustice and pain.

The days from four years ago still haunted me like a nightmare.

Back then, Mike and my father were close. Though he was barely older than me, his talent and drive had forged a deep bond between them—one that left me secretly pining for him for ten long years.

No one could understand the bittersweet ache of it, except my father, who saw it all and felt sorry for me.

At last, he gritted his teeth and made a bold, outrageous decision—he drugged Mike and, while he was in a dazed state, sent him straight into my bed.

When I saw what happened, I widened my eyes in shock, my voice trembling. “Dad, are you trying to kill me?”

My father let out a heavy sigh, his eyes full of helplessness and affection.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen it all—how much you love Mike. I could tell he had feelings for you too, but he’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

He paused, seemingly remembering something, then continued, “He was drunk that day, and I even heard him mumble your name. My heart was burning with anxiety. Seeing you two dragging things out, I decided to give you a push.”

I was both furious and horrified, filled with resistance. Just as I was about to scold him for his recklessness, an intense wave of heat surged through me like a tidal wave.

I turned to my father in panic, only to see him smirking slyly.

“Sweetheart, I added something to your drink too. Make the most of tonight,” he said.

With that, he turned and slammed the door shut, locking it with a loud bang.

When that night finally ended, Mike slowly woke up.

His eyes shifted from dazed confusion to icy coldness in an instant.

He looked at me with cold eyes and said, “Shannon, I’ll be responsible. I’ll marry you.”

At that moment, my heart swelled with complicated emotions.

I was secretly overjoyed by his promise, but also filled with anxiety over how it all began.

I thought that maybe I was going to live a happy life, but reality turned out to be far crueler than I had imagined.

One encounter at a gathering shattered my fragile hope like a bolt of lightning.

I had unintentionally overheard him talking with a friend.

The friend’s voice was tinged with disappointment and frustration.

“Mike, man, don’t you know how lucky you are? That girl, Shannon, she’s got the looks, the figure, the money—and most importantly, she’s head over heels for you. Just settle down with her already.”

Mike took a drag from his cigarette, a cold smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

But that smile was sharp as a blade.

"At first, I did have some feelings for her—but I never expected her to be someone who sleep with others so easily."

He paused, took a long drag from his cigarette, and through the swirling smoke, his expression grew even colder.

"Just thinking about how she drugged me that night and threw herself at me… it makes me feel disgusted."

I stood frozen, overwhelmed by a tide of grievance and sorrow.

I opened my mouth, unsure how to even begin explaining the truth, but before I could say a word, he had already applied for a visa and left the country just two weeks later.

And as if fate was mocking me, that absurd night had left me with a child.

In the days that followed, I bore the hardship of pregnancy alone.

I brought my daughter Melanie into the world in solitude, and every day since, I waited in that empty house, endlessly hoping for his return.

But after all the waiting, what I got instead was the sight of him entangled with Jennifer and her son—that scene cut into my heart again and again like a blade.

In this echoing, empty villa, loneliness clung to me like a shadow.

Feeling utterly desolate, I slowly pulled out my phone.

My fingertips trembled as I hovered over Mike’s number, wanting to ask when he was coming back.

Just then, the door creaked open.

Mike walked in with large strides, his expression cold and distant.

His eyes casually swept over the sleeping Melanie as he said indifferently, “Oliver is coming over to play tomorrow. You and Melanie should go out.”

Seeing the confusion on my face, he gave a faint smile—but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He explained blandly, “Oliver gets possessive. He can’t stand other kids calling me ‘dad’.”

The anger that had just been simmering in my chest suddenly ignited like a barrel of gunpowder, exploding all at once.

I trembled with rage, but my lips curved into a mocking, bitter smile as I stared at Mike and said, enunciating every word, “Mike, do you even know who your real child is?”

I paused, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself, though my voice still quivered uncontrollably.

“Do you have any idea what happened to Melanie at nursery today…”

Before I could finish, Mike furrowed his brows slightly and raised his hand to cut me off impatiently.

“Shannon, there’s no need for you to remind me about this kind of thing.”

He turned his head slightly, his tone detached, as if stating something utterly inconsequential.

“It was my oversight at the nursery today. I’m sorry for that. But Oliver also had a parents' evening. Jennifer is raising him alone after the divorce—she’s overwhelmed, and she really couldn’t handle it on her own.”

He let out a soft sigh, and a flicker of emotion I couldn’t quite decipher passed through his eyes.

He continued, “Besides, I made a promise to Jennifer long before I ever met you—that no matter what happened, I would never let her suffer.”

At that, his gaze suddenly became sharp.

When he looked at me, there was distance and coldness in his eyes.

“I already married you, just like you wanted. But don’t try to stop me from caring for them. I owe them that.”

With those words, he casually tossed his jacket onto the couch and headed straight to the bathroom.

The bathroom door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the sound of rushing water roared to life.

That sound—it felt like an impenetrable wall, drowning out my helpless sobs, swallowing them whole.

I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face, my heart filled with regret.

If I had known earlier that life after marrying him would be so full of pain and wounds, I would never have compromised that night, even if it cost me my life.

I sat numbly in front of the computer, staring at the freshly typed divorce agreement on the screen—they stung my eyes.

I gave a bitter smile as I looked at them.

If it weren’t for Melanie, with my stubborn nature, I would have already thrown that paper in his face and walked away without a second thought.

But whenever I thought of Melanie’s little face which was full of grievance, I couldn’t bear to do such a thing.

I always wanted to try a little harder, unwilling to let her grow up without a father at such a young age.

Melanie had woken up early.

Upon hearing her dad had come home, the little one was as excited as ever, jumping up and down on her small bed.

“I want to show Dad the drawing I just finished!”

That was just how children were—innocent and kind.

The pain she suffered at nursery yesterday had been forgotten after one night’s sleep.

She had already forgiven Mike.

Melanie ran downstairs with joy in her heart.

But the sight before her stopped her dead in her tracks.

There stood Jennifer and Oliver in the living room, and Mike was sitting on the sofa, gently peeling an orange for Oliver with a face full of tenderness.

Melanie blinked and asked timidly, “Daddy, who are they?”

Upon hearing her voice, Mike’s brows furrowed in annoyance.

His tone held unmistakable disgust.

“Why are you still at home? Where’s your mom?”

Startled by the sudden scolding, Melanie flinched.

Her eyes instantly reddened, but even so, she carefully held out the family portrait she had spent an entire week drawing.

With a trembling voice, she said, “This is the family picture I drew. I wanted to give it to you when you arrive back at home…”

Before she could finish her sentence, just as the picture—filled with her love and anticipation—was about to reach Mike’s hands, a small hand snatched it away rudely.

“What kind of garbage is this? You call this a drawing?”

Oliver’s little face flushed red with anger.

He stomped his foot and, with a sharp tug, tore Melanie’s drawing in half with a loud rip.

His arrogant, domineering attitude was on full display.

With his hands on his hips and his chin raised, hi shoved my daughter hard and shouted, “Hmph! This is my dad! All the kids at school say you’re just some stray without a dad—who said you could call him Daddy?”

Melanie’s frail little body swayed a few times before she fell to the floor with a loud thump, and then burst into loud sobs.

Tears immediately welled up in my eyes.

Panicking, I rushed forward and scooped Melanie into my arms, holding her tightly.

Then, glaring coldly at Oliver, I said between gnashed teeth, “Apologize.”

Mike saw the scene and immediately frowned.

His face darkened with visible displeasure as he snapped at me, “Shannon, why are you being so harsh to a kid?”

Without hesitation, he strode forward, bent down, and scooped Oliver into his arms, gently patting her back in comfort.

“I told you last night, didn’t I? Oliver is very possessive. He can’t stand other kids calling me Dad. He was just upset and made a mistake—he didn’t mean to push Melanie.”

I stood my ground like a stone rooted deep in the earth.

My gaze remained unwavering and firm as I looked directly at him, without backing down an inch.