When I lost my baby in a car accident, I called Hugo Alistair.

But the one who answered was my eight-year-old son.

"Dad took me to tutoring. If it’s nothing important, don’t bother us."

Then, he hung up and blocked me.

I forced myself to call an ambulance, but Ava Sinclair’s latest post appeared on my screen just as I did.

[If I had never left, would I be the one married to you now?]

The picture showed her and Hugo standing under a sky bursting with fireworks.

Hugo’s reply was quiet but firm. [Yes.]

I tapped the like button casually. The next second, the post disappeared.

That night, the system that had been silent for ten years was reactivated.

"Send me home."

"Understood. Official detachment will begin in three days."

——

As the mechanical voice faded, the door swung open.

Hugo stood there, tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp, calm features. His white shirt stretched over lean muscles, and his gaze stayed locked on his phone.

"Why did you call me today?" His lips curved in a faint smile, but his attention never wavered from the screen.

"I wanted you to take me to the hospital."

"Oh."

His response was indifferent, absent. He barely seemed to hear me.

It wasn’t until a long silence passed that he finally looked up. His smile faded, replaced by his usual cold expression.

"The hospital? What happened to you?"

I thought of the child I lost, the tiny life that had slipped away.

But the words wouldn’t come out.

Seeing my indifferent expression, Hugo uncharacteristically took the initiative to explain.

"The reply on Facebook… Jasper took my phone and…"

Before he could finish, Ava suddenly rushed in and threw herself into his arms.

"Hugo, my room’s lightbulb is broken. It’s so dark, I’m really scared."

He held her gently, his voice soft with reassurance.

"Don’t be afraid. I’ll change it for you."

He glanced at me, his lips parting as if to explain.

But seeing that, for once, I did not react; he only said, "I’ll be right back."

That right back lasted the entire night.

If it were before, I would have thrown a fit, screamed at him, and demanded answers.

But tonight, I slept soundly without him.

Lying in bed, a dull ache spread through my lower abdomen.

"How could you be so careless? After everything you went through for this child, was it easy?"

The doctor’s scolding still echoed in my ears.

When I gave birth to Jasper, I suffered a massive hemorrhage. Though they saved me, the damage was irreversible. Pregnancy became nearly impossible.

Hugo had always dreamed of having a daughter. Even Jasper kept begging for a little sister.

So, I gritted my teeth and endured multiple rounds of IVF. The sight of that 30-centimeter needle was terrifying enough, let alone the agony of it piercing my body over and over again. Only those who have been through it could understand.

I rushed to find him on our wedding anniversary, excitement bubbling in my chest. I couldn’t wait to share the news; I was finally pregnant.

But before I could reach him, a car slammed into mine from behind.

Pain shot through me as warm blood seeped through my dress.

Panic clawed at my throat as I fumbled for my phone, dialing his number with trembling fingers. Desperate. Helpless.

But instead of concern, I heard the sound of laughter. Celebration.

He was at Ava’s birthday party.

And the son I had nearly died to bring into this world, he was covering for them behind my back.

Everything I had done for this family at that moment felt like a cruel joke.

Tears soaked my pillow. Memories from ten years ago resurfaced in my dreams like whispers from a past life.

Back then, I had been terminally ill when the system transported me into this world. My mission was clear: win over Hugo.

At the time, he had lost everything. A devastating car accident had left him paralyzed, his business partner had drained his accounts, and his first love, Ava, had abandoned him without a second thought, fleeing to the UK.

Once a man with limitless potential, he had fallen to rock bottom overnight.

The first time I saw him, he lay in a hospital bed, unshaven, his gaze hollow and lifeless.

Thin to the point of frailty, he looked even worse than I had in the final stages of my late stage of cancer.

For two years, I stayed by his side, tending to his needs, accompanying him through endless treatments, and enduring the weight of his unpredictable moods.

Under my careful devotion, he slowly regained his strength. Not only did he stand on his own again, but he also began rebuilding his career, achieving small successes one step at a time.

Then, one day, he proposed.

The system declared that I had fulfilled my mission. I could return to my original world, healthy, whole, alive.

But I hesitated.

Somewhere along the way, I had fallen in love with Hugo. The thought of leaving him shattered me more than the illness that once consumed me.

In the end, I chose to stay.

For a time, life was sweet. We were deeply in love, inseparable.

When Jasper was born, our little family felt complete.

Hugo was the perfect husband; he handed over all his assets without hesitation, planned romantic surprises to see me smile, and left work early to cook by my side. When I was wheeled into surgery for a C-section, he wept uncontrollably, unable to bear seeing me in pain.

Jasper was just as extraordinary. Even as a child, he was mature beyond his years, a prodigy in every sense. He excelled in Go, programming, and music theory and collected awards like they were mere stepping stones beneath his feet.

But more than anything, father and son adored me. Cherished me. Made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

Then, Ava returned.

She found Hugo, her face streaked with tears as she sobbed, claiming she had never truly abandoned him and that she had been powerless. That her parents had threatened their own lives, forcing her to leave.

And just like that, everything changed.

She claimed that she had never forgotten him, even after leaving for the UK. No matter how hard life had been, she had held onto the dream of reuniting with him.

And Hugo softened.

Seeing that she had nowhere to go, he welcomed her into our home without hesitation, discussion, or even looking at me.

Like that, my husband's ex-girlfriend walked through our doors as if she belonged.

I could only watch as Ava effortlessly wove herself into our lives, winning over both my husband and son with alarming ease.

Hugo had always had a heavy smoking habit, one we fought over time and time again. But ever since Ava arrived, the scent of cigarettes disappeared as if it had never existed.

Always buried in his studies, Jasper had never spared a moment for household chores. He had never even boiled a pot of noodles for me. Yet now, to impress Ava, he pored over cookbooks like a devoted student.

The love that had once belonged to me alone was now split in two. But worse than that, Ava was given privileges I had never known.

I had done nothing wrong, nothing at all. But in the end, it was simply human nature to grow weary of the old and chase after the new.

If that was the case, then there was no need to hold on.

The moment I decided to sever ties with Hugo and Jasper, a strange sense of relief washed over me, light, unfamiliar, yet liberating.

I barely even noticed when Ava strutted in, arrogance laced in every step.

She had the face of innocence, delicate features, big watery eyes brimming with feigned purity. In her hand, she held a white diamond bracelet.

At the sight of it, my brows instinctively furrowed.

That bracelet had been a gift from my in-laws when I first met them, something I had always kept safe in my dressing table’s jewelry box, rarely taking it out.

Instinctively, my gaze flickered toward the dressing table. Sure enough, the drawer that had been closed was now ajar, and the jewelry box lay empty.

How shameless. Taking something without permission wasn’t borrowing; it was stealing. Did she even understand basic manners as a guest?

Before I could react, Ava suddenly lowered her head, covering her mouth as a soft, amused laugh slipped past her lips.

"Audrey, do you think this bracelet suits me?"

Suppressing the surge of disgust rising in my throat, I extended my hand.

"Whether it suits you or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that it isn’t yours. Return it to me."

But Ava had no intention of giving it back. She twirled the bracelet between her fingers, admiring its luster before, with a slow, deliberate smile, slipping it onto her wrist.

"Audrey, I really love this bracelet. Why don’t you just let me have it?"

My jaw tightened. That bracelet was precious, so valuable that even I had rarely worn it. And yet, here she was, boldly claiming it as her own.

A slow heat rose in my chest, burning with unspoken fury. My voice turned sharp.

"If you like it so much, buy one yourself. It’s not as if it’s a one-of-a-kind piece."

Without waiting for a response, I reached out to take it back.

Sensing my intent, Ava swiftly pulled her arm away, her lips curling into a sneer.

"At your age, this bracelet would only make you look old-fashioned..."

A sharp sound cut through the room.

The bracelet struck the door lock, shattering into several pieces. The crisp, metallic echo rang out as the fragments scattered across the floor.

The noise was loud enough to draw Hugo and Jasper over.

Hugo’s face drained of color the moment his gaze landed on the shattered bracelet. Without so much as a question, his voice lashed out coldly. “Mom gave you this heirloom as a symbol of trust, and yet you couldn’t even take care of it?”

Jasper folded his arms, his tone laced with disapproval. “Mom, you don’t even work, and now you’ve smashed a bracelet worth tens of thousands? At this rate, you’re going to ruin our family.”

He was only five, yet the way he looked at me, filled with nothing but contempt, was like a knife twisting in my chest.

Not a single inquiry. No hesitation. Father and son had already passed judgment, pinning the blame on me without a second thought. My heart sank beneath the weight of disappointment, a feeling I had grown far too accustomed to.

I let out a slow breath, my voice turning ice-cold. “There were two people in this room. What makes you so sure I was the one who broke it? She stole my bracelet and refused to return it. When I tried to take it back, she shattered it. She should be the one compensating me.”

Just as the last word left my lips, Ava’s eyes welled up with tears.

“I’m sorry… It’s all my fault,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Audrey’s bracelet was just so beautiful; I couldn’t help but admire it. I only tried it on because I couldn’t resist…”

Her tears slipped down like pearls rolling off a broken string, her delicate face painted with remorse.

The moment Hugo saw Ava’s pitiful expression, his entire demeanor shifted. The harshness from earlier vanished as if it had never existed.

With a tenderness I had never once received, he pulled out a handkerchief and gently handed it to her. His voice, now warm and soothing, carried none of the sharpness he had used on me.

“Don’t say that. You deserve everything beautiful in this world.”

Jasper, too, lost his earlier arrogance. He eagerly leaned closer to Ava, his eyes brimming with admiration.

“Aunt Ava, you’re way too kind. It’s just a bracelet. If you like it, my dad can buy you another one.”

Ava’s tears shimmered under the soft glow of their affection. With such gentle reassurance, she finally let a smile break through the sorrow on her face.

She sniffled, her voice trembling. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay it back. I may not be able to afford it now, but if you don’t mind, I can pay in installments.”

Hugo dismissed her words with a chuckle, his tone indulgent. “Don’t say such distant things. Jasper just learned how to make your favorite braised pork. Come try it.”

Father and son encircled Ava like devoted knights escorting their princess, leading her toward the dining room without so much as a glance in my direction.

I stood frozen, watching my husband and son shower another woman with the warmth I had long since been deprived of.

My heart, already numbed by their indifference, felt as if it had been sealed in ice for a thousand years. Any lingering attachment I had to this place shattered into dust.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Four in the afternoon.

At this hour on any other day, I would have been out buying groceries.

Hugo loved beef, so every day, without fail, I bought a pound of beef shank, slow-cooked it until tender, sliced it with precision, and arranged it neatly on a delicate porcelain plate.

Jasper had a taste for sweet and sour dishes, sweet and sour fish, sweet and sour ribs, and squirrel fish; he loved them all.

He despised green onions, ginger, and garlic, so before serving his meals, I meticulously picked out every trace of them.

Father and son were both impossibly particular about their food. To prepare a single meal, I spent over two hours standing in the kitchen, ensuring everything was just right.

But now, I was leaving.

No longer would I exhaust myself catering to their every whim.

For the next two days, I had only one goal: learning how to please myself.