"Oliver finally has the fatherly love he’s been missing. No one can take away something that belongs to us!"

The words were blindingly harsh, and the photo that followed was like a sharp blade, cutting straight into my heart.

In the picture, the three of them—Mike, Jennifer, and little Oliver—were huddled closely together.

Their faces beamed with happiness, the perfect image of a warm and loving family of three.

Almost as if possessed, I tapped “like” on the post.

As if that casual, indifferent action could somehow hide the devastation roiling inside me.

But before I could even gather my thoughts, my phone chimed with a ding.

A new message popped up—it was from Jennifer.

Confused, I opened it.

It was a video.

And there, clear as day on the screen, was Mike’s familiar yet increasingly unfamiliar handsome face.

The timestamp showed it was from shortly after he returned to the country.

In the video, a friend teased,

“Mike, what do you think is the happiest thing in life?”

Mike gave a lazy smile, but there was a tenderness in his eyes I had never seen before.

He answered in a relaxed tone, “Last week overseas, after coaxing Oliver to sleep, I pulled Jennifer into the bathroom.”

Laughter erupted from the people around him.

But on this side of the screen, I felt cold from head to toe, as if I had been dropped into a frozen abyss.

Before I could fully process the shock, another memory surfaced—a moment when Jennifer had once shared a post that read, “After having a kid, we never get alone time anymore. We can only sneak around after Oliver’s asleep to do this and that…”

The implied intimacy between those lines now hit me like a hammer, each word pounding against my already shattered heart.

Just then, my phone buzzed again—another message from Jennifer.

“So sorry, I sent that by accident. Meant to send it to someone else, and by the time I realized, I couldn’t recall it.”

Then came another.

“But honestly, I think you already know how Mike feels, don’t you? You forced your way into this marriage with all your little tricks. The only reason you became Mrs. Ashton was because you backed him into a corner. For the past three years abroad, he’s been with me and Oliver. Even though Oliver’s not his biological child, Mike treats him even better than a real father would. Even if we separated, he’s never been able to let me go. It’s only a matter of time before we’re back together.”

My heart felt like it was steeped in bitter water, each word soaking deeper than the last.

To top it all off, she sent one last image—

Oliver stood in the center, grinning brightly, while she and Mike kissed either side of his face.

A flawless picture of a “perfect family”.

I stared at the screen, lips twitching into a bitter, self-mocking smile.

Then my fingers flew over the keyboard and typed just two words.

“Alright then.”

I took a deep breath and dialed my father’s number.

The line connected, and his familiar voice came through. “Hello?”

I fought back the sting behind my nose and tried to keep my voice calm.

“Dad, I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to take Melanie and settle abroad. We’ll leave in a few days.”

There was a pause on the other end, then a burst of joy.

“Really?

But I heard Mike has just returned to the country—didn’t your little family finally reunite? Is he okay with you leaving?”

Hearing that, my eyes reddened.

I let out a cold, bitter laugh. “He couldn’t be more thrilled.”

I used to stubbornly keep a lamp lit, no matter how late it got, waiting for Mike to return before I could sleep peacefully.

It was as if that warm, dim light could illuminate his way home and warm the heart that waited for him.

However, things were different now. This time, I wasn’t as foolish as I once had been.

When Mike dragged his tired body back home, the clock had already silently ticked past 2 o’clock in the morning.

The moment he pushed the door open, the house was pitch black and deathly silent.

The warm light that used to be left on for him was gone, replaced only by the faint moonlight seeping through the window, outlining the furniture in vague, shadowy shapes.

He instinctively furrowed his brows, seemingly unsettled by the unfamiliar darkness.

In the days that followed, I completely changed my old habits.

It wasn’t just that one night—I no longer lit that hopeful little lamp for him on any night thereafter.

Nor did I wait expectantly in the living room for the sound of the door opening, for his return.

For three full days, I treated him as if he were thin air, not uttering a single word to him.

The atmosphere at home had become cold to the extreme.

Perhaps, finally sensing this unusual coldness, Mike returned that day with a delicate gift box in his hands.

He walked up to me, a slightly awkward look of apology appearing on his face, and said in a soft voice, “This is for you, Shannon.”

After a pause, he turned his head slightly and continued, “Oliver was a bit unruly the other day and caused some trouble. I’m apologizing on his behalf—to you and Melanie.”

As he spoke, he gently opened the box. Inside lay a necklace, resting quietly on a velvet lining.

The design was outdated—clearly from another era.

He seemed oblivious to that, reaching in to take it out, and leaned toward me slightly with a hint of trying to please me.

“Come, let me put it on for you.”

I gave the necklace a cold glance, then turned aside expressionlessly to avoid him.

My tone was calm as ever. “No need.”

In fact, that necklace wasn’t unfamiliar to me. I had seen it once in Jennifer’s Twitter.

Back then, she had mocked it with disdain, writing that the style was so outdated and cheap that keeping it was pointless—yet throwing it away felt like a chore.

Without a word, I walked past Mike, returned to the room, and swiftly picked up Melanie.

I dressed her for going out, grabbed the car keys, and got ready to leave.

Mike’s gaze followed my movements, and when he saw me wearing a tailored casual suit, he visibly froze.

His eyes lingered on me for a long while before his voice broke the silence, “Where are you going? I'll drive you.”

In the past, I always wore gentle, feminine dresses around him—obedient and soft-spoken.

But he never knew that during the three years he was gone, I had carried the world on my own shoulders.

I had been starting a company, handling social events, even fixing broken pipes at home with my own hands—

I had forced myself to become an indestructible warrior.

I was not someone who couldn’t survive without him.

As for driving, a faint, self-mocking smile tugged at my lips.

I replied firmly, “No need. When it comes to driving skills, I’m no worse than you—maybe even better.”

In truth, I had a more important goal for today’s outing.

I was going to take Melanie to give up our identities in the country—to completely cut ties with everything here and begin a brand-new life.

Three hours later, we successfully completed the cancellation procedures.

The moment we stepped out the door, I suddenly saw Mike’s car parked right at the entrance.

He furrowed his brows tightly, eyes filled with both anger and confusion, glaring at me as he snapped, “Shannon, what are you doing here with our daughter?”

He had followed us all the way here.

I had rushed into the home office with Melanie in my arms, and only emerged three hours later, visibly exhausted.

During that time, he had waited outside in silence.

Yet, for some reason, my heart felt as if an invisible hand had clutched it tightly, giving rise to a wave of inexplicable unease.

When I caught his direct, penetrating gaze, I forced a smile and tried to appear composed as I said, “It’s nothing. Our IDs expired, so I came to renew them.”

After a pause, I pretended to recall something and added casually, “Aren’t you busy today? I heard Jennifer’s looking for a job lately—she probably needs your help quite a bit right now.”

Mike’s expression sharpened instantly, his eyes turning hawk-like as he stared straight at me.

That look seemed as if it could pierce through my soul.

His face darkened like a stormy sky right before the downpour.

After a long silence, his lips curved into a cold, mocking smile, and he let out a bitter laugh. “Shannon, you really are something.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone filled with sarcasm and frustration.

“I’ve never seen a woman push her own husband away like this. Since you insist, fine—I’ll give you what you want.”

With that, he slammed the car door shut with a loud bang, the sound jolting my heart.

Then his car sped off like an arrow released from a bow, disappearing from view in the blink of an eye.

I stood there in a daze, confused and baffled.

I had meant well—wasn’t I just giving them my blessing?

Why did he get so angry instead?

Later, I learned the reason from Mike’s assistant.

The assistant looked at me with a mix of regret and sympathy, saying in a soft voice, “Ma’am, did you know Mr. Ashton always set aside the entire day today? He just wanted to spend time with you and the child.”

He sighed gently before continuing, “But now... things went south. He’s furious, drank himself into a stupor, and now he’s gone to see Jennifer and her son…”

The assistant had always thought Mike and I were a perfect match.

He had tried many times to play the mediator between us.

But now, things had gone too far.

All I could do was smile self-deprecatingly, my voice tinged with helplessness. “Thank you for telling me. But let him go.”

After all, deep down, I knew—

In just three more days, Melanie and I would leave this place of heartbreak for good.

And yet, fate seemed determined not to let me off so easily.

I never imagined that on the very day I completed Melanie’s school transfer, a nightmare would strike without warning.

While playing in the park, Melanie was suddenly and viciously pushed into the water by Oliver.

By the time we pulled her out, she had already developed an acute reaction—her little face pale as a sheet.

At that moment, I heard a deafening buzz in my head, like something had snapped.

I went completely mad, carrying Melanie in my arms as I dashed frantically to the hospital.

At the hospital, I ran around in desperation, begging the doctors to save her.

But it was then that I received a piece of devastating news.

Mike had rerouted the entire city’s medical resources—just to treat Oliver’s allergic reaction.

Staring at Melanie lying weakly on the hospital bed, barely breathing, I trembled as I dialed Mike’s number over and over again, my voice choked with sobs as I pleaded with him—begged him—to save Melanie.