Chapter 2

He yanked at his tie in frustration.

“That was the past! Who else could I turn to then? You were lying in a hospital bed. Should I have told you how devastated I was? Do you even have a heart?”

“Sophia was helping us both by carrying some of my pain. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Natalie, you’ve become more and more unreasonable.”

I stared at his self-righteous face, my heart sinking further with every word.

So, in his eyes, I was the root of all wrongs.

“Yes, I’m unreasonable.”

I laughed, though tears streamed uncontrollably.

“Then tell me—just how much more of this so-called ‘connection’ do you two share that I don’t know about?”

My words only agitated him further.

“Natalie Evans! Must you twist everything into a fight?”

“Twist?” I wiped my tears away and glared at him.

“Fine. Let’s count—just how much of this home was built on Sophia Reed’s ‘credit’?”

That finally broke his composure. His excuses tumbled out like beans spilling from a bag.

“You want to know? Fine! I’ll tell you!”

“This house? Sophia helped me pick out every detail in the décor! She said she understood my taste better than anyone else, knew exactly what I liked!”

My chest tightened sharply.

I remembered complimenting him back then, and how smugly he’d accepted the praise.

“The first lipstick I ever gave you? Sophia picked that shade! She said your fair skin would look best with it!”

So the first gift I cherished had been tainted from the start.

I clenched my fists, nails biting deep into my palms.

“And even our wedding rings—when I couldn’t decide, it was—”

He froze mid-sentence, realizing too late what he’d admitted.

“Natalie, don’t overthink it. They were just little things.”

“She’s just… just like family.”

He reached out to hold me, but I shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me.”

I backed away step by step.

“Daniel, I used to just suspect.”

“Now I’m certain. You truly disgust me.”

That night, I locked myself in the study, sleepless.

By morning, a thought I’d suppressed for years resurfaced—Daniel’s locked wooden box on top of his bookshelf.

He always said it held memories from his student days, off-limits to me.

I had respected his privacy once. But now, I only wanted to know what secrets lay inside.

I dragged over a stool and pulled the box down.

The lock was simple—I picked it easily with a hairpin.

The lid creaked open.

On top lay an old hospital wristband, the plastic yellowed with age.

Written on it in black marker was my name—Natalie Evans.

Beside it lay a wilted, blackened white lily and a stack of journals.

At the bottom rested a delicate silver bracelet, sized for a newborn baby.

On its pendant was engraved a single word.

—Grace.

My breath caught.

“She’ll be Grace,” Daniel had once whispered in my ear, holding me close.

“Grace, for a safe and peaceful life.”

The name of the child we never got to meet.

All at once, the grief I had buried and forced myself to forget surged like a broken dam, drowning me.

So he had prepared something for that child.

With trembling hands, I lifted the cold bracelet and opened the journal.

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Chapter 3

The handwriting was Daniel’s—bold and heavy.

I turned to the first page.

June 12, Rain. The baby is gone. My heart died with her. Natalie is so weak, I can’t cry in front of her. I’m afraid it’ll hurt her more. So I hide outside, pounding the walls over and over.

June 13, Clear skies. Sophia came. She didn’t say a word, just held me. Finally, I could sob freely. To be understood—it feels so good. Her embrace was warm, like a beam of light.

June 15. Sophia gave me a bouquet of white lilies. She said lilies mean ‘strength’ and ‘eternal love.’ She promised she’d always be there for me.

My gaze drifted to the dried flower in the box. My heart felt plunged into ice water.

I turned another page.

July 1. I find myself relying on Sophia more and more. Only with her can I forget the pain for a while. Whenever I see Natalie, I only think of the child we lost. Between us, there is only silence and tears.

Drip.

My tears splattered onto the page, blurring the ink.

Soulmate.

Fate’s arrangement.

So my darkest, most agonizing days had become the soil for their love to bloom.

My tragedy was the most romantic backdrop for their story.

I laughed, bitter tears streaming uncontrollably.

“What are you doing!”

Daniel burst into the room, snatching the journal from my hands.

His face turned ashen when he saw the open box.

“Who told you to touch my things? Natalie Evans, do you have no respect, no boundaries?”

His eyes were bloodshot, like a beast defending its territory.

I stared back at him, my voice steady and cutting.

“Daniel, is everything in here true?”

His gaze darted away, unable to meet mine.

“You had no right to read my journal! That was my privacy—my pain! Who gave you the right—”

“Your pain?” I cut him off, my voice sharp, almost unrecognizable.

“Your pain was holding another woman, falling into ‘eternal love’ with her? What about me? I was on the operating table, losing our child. What was my pain worth?”

“Shut up!”

He raised a hand to shove me.

“You don’t understand anything!”

I didn’t flinch.

We stood there, a room thick with gunpowder.

“You’re right,” I said coldly. “I don’t understand. So tell me now—who do you love?”

That question tore open all his defenses.

He stayed silent for a long time—so long I thought he would never answer.

Finally, he looked up, eyes full of exhaustion and grim resolve.

“Natalie, I’m sorry.”

Not love. Not denial. Just a flat confession.

“I can’t control myself. Sophia… she’s part of me. We can’t be separated.”