At noon the next day, Luther took Callista to the Spencer residence for lunch.

Luther's mother, Jane Dawson, never liked Callista. She didn't even bother to show up on their wedding day.

After the marriage, Luther moved out with Callista, only visiting his family at the end of each month.

"Honey, whatever it is that my mom says later, don't take it to heart. I'm always on your side. We'll leave right after lunch," Luther reassured Callista while holding her hand.

The moment they stepped through the door, Callista heard Jane's laughter.

"Oh, such a sweet baby! Those tiny hands and feet just melt my heart."

Callista turned pale, and her feet were rooted to the ground. She recognized the woman sitting next to Jane—it was the same woman from the pregnancy photo.

"This is my friend's daughter, Wren Kirk," Jane introduced.

"She's pregnant, and her family's overseas, so they asked me to take care of her. I just took her to her prenatal checkup this morning."

Jane linked arms with Wren and approached them. She handed Luther an ultrasound photo with a meaningful glance.

"Take a good look. Doesn't the baby resemble the parents?"

A flicker of panic crossed Luther's face as he responded with a faint warning in his tone, "Mom, stop joking around. How would I know? This is my first time meeting Wren."

Jane cast a glance at Callista and then pushed Wren forward. "Well then, let me properly introduce you. Wren, this Luther."

Wren's cheeks turned pink as she said, "Hey, Luther."

Luther gave a slight nod, then pulled Callista closer with one arm. "And this is my wife. Callista."

"Nice to meet you, Callista," Wren said softly.

Callista felt utterly numb. Her hands that were hanging by her sides began to tremble uncontrollably.

So, the entire Spencer family knew about Wren. She was the only one kept in the dark.

"What's wrong?" Luther immediately grew concerned.

"Are you feeling faint from low blood sugar?"

He quickly retrieved some candy he always carried with him, unwrapped one, and brought it to her lips.

Callista opened her mouth mechanically. Though it was candy, all she could taste was bitterness.

Luther instructed the housekeeper to start serving the meal. He was still holding her hand as they sat down.

"You barely ate breakfast. Have more for lunch," he said gently.

Callista silently picked up her glass of water, but Luther swapped it out for a warm one.

"Your period's coming soon. You shouldn't drink anything cold, or your stomach will hurt again.

"The prawns today look good. Let me peel some for you."

Luther barely ate throughout the meal as he was constantly tending to Callista and ensuring her plate was never empty.

"Luther is so good to his wife. I'm honestly jealous of Callista," Wren suddenly remarked. "I love prawns too. Luther, could you peel some for me as well?"

Wren slid her plate toward him, but Luther acted as if he didn't see it.

"If you want prawns, peel them yourself. I only peel them for my wife," he replied.

Callista took a sip of the warm water while suppressing the urge to retch. "Give them to her. I don't want any."

Luther froze for a moment, then playfully pouted like a child.

"Fine, I'll eat them myself. Cally, how could you give away the prawns I peeled for you?"

Callista's eyes glinted with sarcasm. They'd already slept together, yet they still pretended otherwise.

Jane set her utensils down with a dark expression. "Callista, wasn't this your sixth IVF failure? Since Wren is here, why don't you get some tips from her?"

"Mrs. Spencer, I don't really have much experience myself," Wren replied. She blushed as she shook her head.

"My boyfriend and I conceived on the first try. It just happened to be my birthday, so maybe being in a good mood helped."

"Well, my daughter-in-law here is ten years older than you. She's not really comparable to you," Jane said with a mocking tone.

"I'm planning to let Wren move into the house so I can take better care of her. Plus, maybe her luck will rub off, and I'll have a house full of grandchildren soon."

The moment she finished speaking, Luther cut her off firmly. "I don't agree."

Jane's gaze turned even colder as she looked at Callista. "Why not? Just because someone here can't conceive, they just can't bear to see others succeed either?"

"Are you done?" Luther's voice was icy.

"Mom, if you're determined to make me stop coming here altogether, then by all means, keep going."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause trouble." Wren stood up with teary eyes and hurried away.

Luther instinctively took a step forward as if to chase her but stopped himself, realizing how inappropriate it would be.

"I'm done," Callista said coldly as she watched the drama unfold. She stood and left without hesitation.

The moment she walked out of the Spencer residence's gates, a notification appeared on her phone—a verification message from Wren.

"March 5th is my birthday. That was our first time. He didn't let me leave the bed all day."

That day, Callista had suffered her fifth IVF failure. She hadn't eaten or drunk anything and had locked herself in her room for an entire day and night.

When she finally gathered the strength to open the door, she'd found Luther disheveled while sitting outside her room. She had even pitied him and comforted him.

As it turned out, Luther had just rushed home from Wren's bed.

How ridiculous. How tragic.

She endured endless injections without complaint for five years. Yet now, the pain in her chest was unbearable, making it hard to breathe.

"Why are you crying, honey?"

Luther had followed her out. Seeing that her face was streaked with tears, he panicked and instinctively glanced at her phone.

The phone screen dimmed automatically. Luther didn't pay much attention to it and pulled Callista into his arms. He gently patted her back.

"Shh, don't cry. It hurts me to see you like this.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have brought you here just to upset you. She's my mother—you don't have to put up with her for my sake.

"You can yell at me or hit me if it makes you feel better."

On the way home, Luther spent the entire ride trying to comfort her. Callista simply closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

Occasionally, the sound of message notifications echoed in the car. Luther was busy replying to them for the second half of the drive.

When they arrived home, Luther stroked her head.

"Honey, there's an urgent matter at work that I need to handle. Wait for me here, and I'll come back early tonight, okay?"

Callista quietly got out of the car.

After Luther left, she accepted Wren's friend request and opened her social media feed. Pinned at the top of her profile were two photos.

The first was of Luther's back as he planted roses. The second was a sea of blue roses.

The caption read, "Considering someone took the time to plant my favorite blue roses, I'll forgive you this once. Come and make it up to me."

Callista's chest tightened at the sight. So Wren was the one who loved blue. Even the roses he planted for their anniversary weren't for her.

She hailed a cab and went straight to the estate. As soon as she arrived, she saw Luther's black Bentley parked nearby.

In the distance, Luther stood with his back to her in front of the sea of roses. He was unaware of her presence.

"If Callista could have children, I wouldn't have needed you. She's where I draw my line. How dare you show up in front of her and throw a tantrum?"

Wren's eyes brimmed with tears. "Then why come to me at all? Just leave me alone!"

"Don't cry," Luther said. His tone softened. "As long as you behave, I'll take care of you for life."

Wren wiped her tears and smiled before throwing herself into his arms. "I can be even better if that's what you want."

"I cleared an entire afternoon for this. Do you really not know what I want?" Luther's voice was hoarse as he scooped Wren into his arms and carried her toward the estate.

Just then, Wren glanced back and smirked at Callista. She had seen Callista standing there the whole time.

Through the windows, shadows of their entangled figures swayed and flickered. Callista stood frozen on the roadside. Her chest was heaving with every labored breath.

It felt like a barbed hook had torn into her heart, and each pull left behind a fresh, bleeding wound.

"Are you here to take pictures too? Mr. Spencer and Mrs. Spencer still have such a loving relationship after all these years. It's really enviable," a woman nearby remarked with a smile as she snapped some photos.

"Mrs. Spencer must have saved the galaxy in her past life. Every woman dreams of having a husband like Mr. Spencer."

Callista laughed bitterly as tears streamed down her face. "But she doesn't want him anymore."

This so-called estate Luther gave her, symbolizing his devotion, was nothing more than a place where he slept with another woman.

The woman then stared at Callista and became somewhat stunned. It wasn't surprising she'd mistaken Wren for Callista.

After all, Wren bore an uncanny resemblance to Callista at 24, the year she first met Luther.

"I guess men are all the same," the woman murmured. Her tone turned despondent.

"At least Mr. Spencer is somewhat decent. He probably just wants a child too badly, even going so far as to find someone who looks just like you.

"Why not let it go? Pretend you don't know. Life will go on as usual."

"It wouldn't be the same," Callista said quietly.

The fact that Luther sought out a woman who resembled her didn't make her feel grateful; it only made her feel disgusted.

After leaving the rose garden, Callista went to the hospital and collected pre-procedure medication for an abortion.

She placed the medicine on the coffee table and stared at it for a long time. She was still overwhelmed by a suffocating ache.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Luther rushed in with his shirt buttoned unevenly. He tripped and nearly knocked over a chair in his haste.

He scanned her from head to toe with a pale face. "Honey, why did you go to the hospital?"

Callista's medical card was linked to Luther's phone number, so the notification about her visit and prescription was sent to him.

"Honey, say something! You're scaring me," Luther pleaded anxiously.

Callista handed him the bag of medicine, and she lied, "The doctor suggested I try a new medication. It might improve the success rate of the next IVF attempt."

"As long as you're okay, that's all that matters. You scared me to death."

Luther didn't even glance at the bag and casually placed it on the coffee table.

Callista let out a cold laugh.

In the past, he would always meticulously read the instructions no matter what medication she was prescribed as he was worried about potential side effects.

He used to say he couldn't bear the physical pain of IVF for her, but he needed to remind himself that she was suffering for his sake.

Now, she had personally handed him the pre-procedure medication for an abortion, and he didn't even bother to look at it.

The unfamiliar scent of perfume mixed with the aroma of roses in the air made Callista feel nauseous, and soon, her stomach began to cramp. She clutched her abdomen in discomfort.

"Is it your period?" Luther leaned in, trying to warm her stomach with his hands.

Callista swatted his hand away.

"The smell on you is disgusting," she said bluntly.

Luther sniffed himself and chuckled.

"It's probably the scent of roses. I've been going to the rose garden several times a day, trying to make sure everything is perfect for our fifth anniversary. I'll go shower and change my clothes."

But earlier, he'd said he was going to the office.

Callista couldn't be bothered to expose his lie and simply replied, "Alright."

After Luther left, Callista picked up her phone.

For the past five years, her social circle revolved entirely around Luther, leaving her with no close friends of her own.

If she were to leave him, there weren't many people she needed to inform, except for her younger brother, Kai Caldwell. Kai was also her only remaining family member.

But as she stared at his number, she couldn't bring herself to call.

Kai held Luther in high regard as his brother-in-law, and she worried it would complicate things. It was better to wait until she was ready to leave.

That night, Luther lay beside her while gently massaging her stomach.

"Honey, I've delegated all my work for the next two days. Your first couple of days on your period are always the worst, and I can't leave you alone."

Callista gave a nonchalant response, not taking his words to heart.

Then, a notification sound woke her up in the middle of the night.

"Sorry, did I wake you? There's some work I need to take care of. I'll put my phone on silent. Go back to sleep, honey," Luther said softly.

Callista kept her eyes closed, but she was no longer sleepy.

Luther's left hand continued massaging her stomach, while his right hand was free to reply to messages. The warmth of his touch and the occasional low chuckles he couldn't suppress felt like a dull blade cutting into her, one stroke at a time.

"Honey?" he whispered, testing the waters.

As he hoped, Callista didn't respond.

Luther withdrew his hand, quietly got out of bed, and tiptoed out of the room. Even as he moved silently, his eagerness was palpable.

"How dare you send those kinds of pictures over? Just wait—I'll make sure you can't get out of bed tomorrow," he muttered before the door clicked shut.

Moments later, Callista's phone buzzed several times. It was a message from Wren.

"Are you getting old and unattractive, Cally? Luther's been so pent up that he couldn't get enough of me this afternoon.

"He even said he wanted to try something new with me tonight. Can you believe it? He has no consideration for this poor pregnant woman.

"Honestly, I feel bad for you. Luther did plenty of the work to make me pregnant. Meanwhile, you're stuck with sterile IVF procedures, and you still can't conceive."

Even in the bedroom that was warmed by the heater, Callista felt frozen to the core.

She got up, retrieved a hot water bottle, and climbed back into bed.

For five years, she'd believed she had met Luther too late in life and that their time together would be too short.

But now, with only five days left, she found the time to be unbearably long.