While waiting in line for a hospital checkup, I ran into Michael Shaw, who was accompanying his wife for a prenatal visit.

After a long silence, he greeted me gently,

"Nicole Young, you've thought it through now. A woman needs a child—someone to rely on."

I gave a faint smile and handed him the pregnancy test results.

He narrowed his eyes, his expression darkening gradually.

"Nicole, you... you didn’t want to be childless?"

I curled my lips into a smile but stayed silent.

He probably didn’t know that during our premarital checkup, I had been diagnosed with congenital infertility. To save his pride, I had insisted it was a health issue and that I wished to remain childless.

He studied me with a complex look, finally asking,

"Is he good to you? You love him very much, don’t you?"

I smiled but didn’t answer.

What could I say to someone who didn’t understand love?

——

I took back the pregnancy test results and just as I slipped them into my bag, a familiar figure pushed open the door.

Our eyes met. Fiona froze for a moment, a hint of joy lingering on her face, then naturally linked arms with Michael.

"Nicole, long time no see! You’re here for a checkup, too?" she said, patting her slightly rounded belly.

I stepped back, expressionless, offering a polite hum, and turned to leave.

Fiona’s soft voice followed me.

"Nicole, let me treat you to a meal. Let’s catch up."

I paused, then walked forward.

How could Fiona, once so eager to compete, now invite me so easily?

Indeed, her former sponsored student was now a top lawyer, her husband an internationally renowned attorney, and she owned three nationally acclaimed law firms.

It was true: when Michael chooses to support someone, even an overlooked girl can soar into greatness.

When Michael came after me, I was waiting for a taxi by the door.

He extended his hand,

"Get in the car. I’ll give you a ride."

I stepped back, calm.

"Michael, no need. I don’t want your wife to misunderstand."

His face darkened.

"Nicole, do you have to be so stubborn?"

"If back then you had been more tolerant and generous, you wouldn’t be in this situation today."

"I just wanted a child. Why did you..." He glanced at my tracksuit and mud-stained canvas shoes.

He didn’t finish, but I understood.

It was all about wanting Fiona Young to have a child for us, so I could graciously accept them and their daughter, and live a complete life of three.

Then we would be secure, no longer wearing tracksuits and carrying canvas bags like this.

The boy I had risked my family for, the boy who had promised me he would endure torture rather than betray me, had ultimately died in this glittering world.

In silence, the taxi arrived, and Fiona ran after it.

She pressed a card into my hand, panicked.

"Nicole, take this first. If you need anything, just let me know. Michael is busy every day..."

The taxi arrived just then, and I shoved the card back, letting it fall to the ground in haste.

The car sped off, belching exhaust fumes. Through the rearview mirror, I saw Michael gently embrace Fiona, comforting her. She stood there, tears in her eyes, leaning on his shoulder, quietly sobbing.

At the villa, Aunt Wendy came over and said Leo Miller wouldn’t be home for dinner, asking what I wanted to eat.

I touched my stomach, suppressing the acid reflux, and requested only a bowl of gourmet soup.

Back in my room, I wanted to keep the pregnancy test report, and while searching, I found the forged infertility test report.

That was six years ago. I spent $6,000 to have a classmate’s classmate get me a fake test report.

Six years ago, Michael and I were a pair of star-crossed lovers, relying on each other for survival.

Our lives weren’t actually that hard. My parents ran a small shop; I was their only child, and Michael’s parents were successful businesspeople.

The tragedy struck when Michael was ten. A car accident took their lives, and his uncle quickly seized control of everything.

He even sold Michael to human traffickers in the mountains.

I was the neighbor of that buyer.

Not long after, the neighbor had his own child, and Michael became a burden, a useless burden.

He was always doing endless chores, his body covered in bruises.

I secretly gave him bread from the shop and laid out his blankets in the pigsty.

Until one day, the neighbor lost money gambling and whipped Michael until he rolled on the ground.

I rushed forward and bit the neighbor’s hand tightly, but he flung me away, sending me crashing into a stone in the yard, bleeding profusely.

Enraged, Michael grabbed a lawnmower from the yard and slashed his neighbor’s neck.

The neighbor’s blood spurted a meter high, and he collapsed without uttering a word.

I looked at Michael, trembling and huddled in a corner, and knelt before my father.

“Dad, please save Michael! He did all this to save me!”

I begged him, crying.

“Dad, we can’t be heartless! Michael’s life is ruined if he goes to jail.”

My father, his eyes red, went to the police station. Less than a year later, he died unexpectedly in prison.

Michael was evicted, and our small grocery store was given to the neighbor.

From then on, we began a life of homelessness.

We were bitten by stray dogs, bullied by homeless people, and Michael even suffered from pneumonia and fever, nearly dying. I knelt before the doctor, begging to donate my blood to sell for money, and that’s how he was saved.

Until I was sixteen, Michael’s uncle, who had been living abroad, returned. Using his skills as a top international lawyer, he won Michael’s case, recovering most of the family fortune, and six months later found me, Michael, and among homeless children.

From that moment on, Michael became the eldest son of the Shaw family.

He entered a prestigious private school, and under his uncle’s influence, he went on to study law and political science, becoming a top lawyer.

I, however, wasn’t particularly gifted and barely managed to study law, becoming a junior assistant.

At that time, he held my hand, looking at me earnestly,

“Nicole, you don’t need to be outstanding. I’ll take care of everything.”

And then, at twenty-two, the year I graduated from university, Michael proposed to me in front of the entire faculty and student body,

“Nicole, marry me. I will love you for life. If I ever break this promise, may I swallow ten thousand needles and die in agony.”

A month later, we got married.

However, during the premarital checkup, it was discovered that Michael was infertile. Michael was so proud, and his relatives were all waiting to kick him while he was down.

That day, I hid his test results, got a fake one, and told him I was infertile.

That day, he held me tightly, comforting me that it was okay, as long as I was there, that was enough.

After marriage, Michael didn’t despise me; instead, he did his best to cultivate me, helping me gradually become a lawyer with some reputation.

I felt ashamed of being a burden to him, but he looked at me seriously,

“Nicole, a person must have a conscience. The moment your uncle walked into the police station, I swore that I would take care of you for the rest of my life.”

“Nicole, without you, there would be no Michael today. Everything I have is yours.”

But conscience has no legally binding force.

In the third year of our marriage, he cheated on me with Fiona, a law student we were sponsoring.

We intend to contribute to society and recruit excellent talent for law firms.

Fiona was indeed outstanding. She landed a major case right after joining the firm, her sharp wit and unique legal insights quickly making her a rising star.

They had endless things to talk about, countless case insights to share.

They often argued heatedly, then smiled at each other.

Finally, they ended up in bed together.

Aunt Wendy brought in gourmet soup, interrupting my jumbled memories.

I touched my face and realized it was cold.

Suddenly, I realized I had unconsciously shed tears, something I hadn’t done in a long time.

I tossed the fake medical report into the shredder, straightened my clothes, and sat down at the low table.

I think I’d cried all my tears three years ago; back then, tears flowed like a tap, plentiful but worthless.

After Fiona joined the firm, she called me “Nicole” and became like family.

On the day she landed a nationally renowned case, I specially bought a cake to celebrate.

On my way home, I saw Michael’s car. That day, I suddenly felt like teasing them, and as I was about to get out of my car, I suddenly appeared in front of them.

I watched him cross the traffic light, watched him get further and further away from home, and finally stop in front of a secluded hotel.

I watched them go into the room, naturally undress, and embrace. I went crazy, grabbing Fiona’s hair and slapping her face.

That day, Michael grabbed me and threw me against the wall, just like when I was ten years old, blood streaming down my forehead and face.

Back then, his eyes were full of anger; he slashed a neighbor’s neck with a knife, and cried while holding me.

Now, his eyes are still full of anger, but he’s holding another woman.

“You’re crazy! Fiona is pregnant! Are you trying to kill my child?”

I stood there, stunned. They already had a child? I don’t know how many times they’d slept together.

I angrily lunged at Fiona, pounding on her.

“You slut, whose bastard are you carrying? Have you no shame?”

Fiona huddled in Michael’s arms, her face swollen and red, strands of her hair clinging to her face with tears.

“Nicole, I know I’ve wronged you, but how could you call Michael’s child a bastard?”

“Nicole, don’t worry, I won’t compete with you for Mrs. Shaw’s position. I just feel sorry for Michael, such an outstanding man, who doesn’t have his own bloodline. I beg you, let me give birth to his child to repay his kindness.”

As she spoke, she knelt down, about to kowtow to me.

Michael pulled her into a tight embrace, his eyes filled with heartache.

“Fiona, it’s not your fault, it’s my fault.”

He then glanced coldly at me.

“Nicole, how can you be so heartless? Who is Fiona doing this for?”

I slapped Michael across the face, my lips trembling.

“Michael, you bastard!”

“She slept with my husband, and I should thank her? She’s a slut, a treacherous and vicious woman.”

Before I could utter the words that he couldn’t possibly have a child, Michael slapped me across the face.

“Nicole, I won’t allow you to say that about Fiona. She’s the mother of my child.”

I stared at Michael in shock. So, he already had Fiona in his heart.

Perhaps because my expression was too sorrowful and disheveled, Michael’s expression softened, and he gently stroked my face.

“Nicole, I just want a child of my own. As long as you don’t make a fuss, this child can recognize you as its mother.”

“Fiona is a loyal and devoted person. She won’t take your place or compete with you for anything. Please be magnanimous and accept her, okay?”