I gently wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “Mom, don’t say that. I’m fine.”

After dinner, I stayed with her for a while, listening to her familiar voice and cherishing the warmth of her presence. Eventually, she urged us to leave early so we wouldn’t be late for work the next day.

As we stepped out, she leaned in and whispered, her voice laced with quiet determination, “If that vixen dares to pester Hugo again, just tell me. I’ll deal with her myself.”

I nodded, but deep down, I no longer cared.

I didn’t tell her Ava had already moved into our home; I feared it would only infuriate her.

Love was simple. Either it existed, or it didn’t. And once it was gone, no amount of support could make up for the emptiness it left behind.

Still, as I caught sight of the silver strands in her hair, a deep ache settled in my chest. The thought of never seeing her again, never tasting her home-cooked meals, filled me with sorrow I couldn’t shake.

Mom, please take care of yourself.

The drive home was cloaked in silence. Hugo focused on the road, his expression unreadable.

From the backseat, Jasper’s face was a storm of barely restrained anger. The moment we got into the car, he snapped.

“Mom, how could you?”

I met his resentful gaze, my voice calm and steady. “How could I what?”

Jasper let out a cold laugh, sharp with accusation. “Stop pretending. You went to Grandma’s behind everyone’s back just to badmouth Aunt Ava. Now that Grandma scolded her and kicked her out, are you satisfied?”

I had to admit my son’s imagination was impressive.

The older he got, the more he resembled Hugo, calm and composed yet carrying an undercurrent of quiet cruelty.

I tilted my head slightly. “And how do you know I spoke ill of your Aunt Ava?”

“Did you hear it with your own ears?”

He rolled his eyes, his voice laced with disdain. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He spoke with such certainty as if I had been born a scheming troublemaker.

I had no idea what I had done to make him see me this way.

At that moment, I felt like a complete failure.

Any explanation would sound like an excuse, so I swallowed my words and chose silence.

A quiet beat passed before Hugo spoke, his voice softer than usual.

“Jasper, don’t talk to your mother like that.”

Jasper’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Dad, did you forget how pitiful Aunt Ava looked when she was crying just now? She didn’t do anything wrong! Why should she be treated like that?”

Hugo let out a slow sigh. “You’re still too young to understand how things work between adults.”

But Jasper refused to back down.

“What don’t I understand? Aunt Ava only left you in the past, right? Everyone makes mistakes. She already came back and admitted she was wrong; what more do you want?”

Everyone makes mistakes.

The words echoed in my mind, a lesson I had once taught him.

When he was four, he had been too busy playing to eat. In his excitement, he knocked over a cup, spilling boiling water across my hand. The pain shot through me instantly. I sucked in a sharp breath, but before I could say anything, he burst into tears.

“I’m sorry, Mommy! Jasper was wrong! Jasper didn’t mean to!”

Despite the burning ache, I pulled him into my arms and soothed him. “Don’t cry, Jasper. Everyone makes mistakes. As long as you realize it and make it right, you’re still a good boy.”

With tear-filled eyes, he had asked me what that meant.

I had told him that mistakes weren’t scary as long as he was willing to learn from them.

He nodded as if he understood.

I thought he had learned the lesson. And he had.

I just never expected him to use it to defend Ava.

After he finished speaking, Hugo didn’t argue. He simply kept driving, his hands steady on the wheel, but his eyes flickered toward me now and then as if trying to read my reaction.

I gave him nothing. My face remained impassive, my gaze fixed straight ahead as if their conversation hadn’t touched me at all.

By the time we arrived home, Ava had already set the table. A feast awaited us, dish after dish, carefully prepared.

Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, her eyes red-rimmed, as if she had been crying.

The moment she saw us, she forced a smile.

"I just made a few simple dishes. I don’t know if they suit your tastes."

My gaze swept over the table.

Every dish was something Jasper and Hugo liked.

Hugo's favorites are spicy diced chicken and boiled pork slices especially.

But I couldn’t eat a single bite.

The doctor had warned me to avoid spicy food after the miscarriage.

Silently, I picked up some vegetables and sipped my soup.

Jasper, unaware, kept piling food onto Ava’s plate. "Aunt Ava, eat more. You’re too thin. You need to nourish yourself."

Ava’s eyes shimmered with emotion, turning red once more.

She picked up a piece of meat glistening with chili oil and placed it into my bowl.

"Audrey, try this. It’s a specialty in my hometown. I made it just for you."

I didn’t touch it. Instead, I calmly continued sipping my cereal.

"Thank you, but I can’t eat spicy food."

The moment those words left my lips, tears spilled down her face.

"Audrey, do you hate me that much?" Her voice trembled, thick with sorrow.

Jasper shot me a sharp glare. "Aunt Ava, you don’t have to lower yourself for her. You don’t owe her anything."

What a wonderful son I had raised, one who knew exactly where to strike to make it hurt the most.

My throat tightened, but I swallowed back the sting, forcing myself to remain composed. Without a word, I set my spoon and fork down.

"You all enjoy. I’ve had enough."

As I pushed my chair back, ready to leave, Hugo’s voice rang out behind me.

"Audrey, eat the spicy chicken. Consider it an apology to Ava."

I froze. My feet felt like they had turned to stone.

Slowly, I turned, meeting his gaze as if seeing a stranger with a familiar face.

"What did you just say?" My voice wavered despite my best efforts.

Perhaps he noticed the way my hands clenched at my sides because he averted his eyes, picking up the plate instead. He dropped a few pieces of spicy chicken into my bowl, his expression unreadable.

His voice, however, was like ice.

"I remember you used to eat spicy food. But now you say you can’t. Why?"

"You always accuse me of not trusting you. But is that really my fault?"

"Or is it just that admitting you’re targeting Ava is too difficult for you?"

I opened my mouth, desperate to explain, to defend myself.

I wasn’t targeting anyone; I had simply lost a child. That was all.

Hugo, I just lost our baby.

The baby you always claimed to long for.

His absence had once shattered me, dragging me into an abyss of grief. But now… now, I was grateful he never came into this world.

Because he wasn’t here, I could leave without looking back.

My gaze dropped to the spicy chicken drenched in glistening red oil.

Before I could react, Jasper, as if running out of patience, grabbed a handful of meat and shoved it into my mouth.

The fiery burn hit instantly. My throat clenched, my eyes stinging as I choked on the overwhelming spice.

Through blurred vision, I caught the flicker of triumph in Ava’s eyes.

Jasper glared at me like I was his greatest enemy. "Mom, I just can’t stand you bullying Aunt Ava. You should get a taste of your own medicine."

I studied my dear son, the boy I had carried, nurtured and loved.

Why had I even given birth to him?

Swallowing back my tears, I met his gaze and spoke slowly, my voice solemn.

"My son, you’re truly filial."

He wasn’t expecting that. His expression faltered. "Mom…"

I forced a bitter smile, turned away, and headed to my room.

The moment I shut the door, I summoned the system. Even it seemed stunned by my misery.

"If I had known it would come to this, I should have just left back then."

Out of pity, it let me choose my exit.

I chose sleeping pills. At least it would be dignified.

The next morning, I awoke to find Hugo already dressed.

He leaned down, just as he always did, to kiss me goodbye.

I turned my head away.

His lips hovered in the air for a moment before he pulled back. Though displeased, he spoke with forced patience.

"Audrey, you used to help me with my tie every morning. Are you too tired lately?"

"Once things settle down, how about we take a trip to Norway to see the aurora as a family?"

Norway? I thought he had long forgotten.

When we first got married, he had promised, personally and earnestly, that he would take me to Norway for our honeymoon. But every time I brought it up, he found an excuse, a reason, a sudden obligation. Eventually, I stopped asking.

Now, after all these years, he was bringing it up on his own. Yet, instead of excitement, all I felt was indifference.

"Today is your birthday. Come home early tonight; I have a gift for you."

He hesitated, looking awkward. "I have an important business dinner. I might be home late."

I let out a soft chuckle, effortlessly exposing his lie. "With Ava, right?"

His eyes dropped. "I promised her I’d spend my 40th birthday with her."

Then, as if realizing how it sounded, he quickly added, "It’s just a meal; nothing else will happen."

I smiled, pretending to believe him. "I trust you. Just don’t forget to open the gift I prepared for you tonight."

"You’ll never forget it."

He pinched my cheek, and for once, I didn’t pull away.

"Love you, wifey."

As Hugo disappeared through the door, I turned and headed to the dining room.

Jasper was already by the door, his backpack slung over one shoulder, ready to leave for school.

Ava stood beside him, her hand in his, the two of them laughing together like the perfect picture of a family.

Then she saw me.

Her fingers slipped from his hand as she straightened, an uneasy smile on her lips. "Audrey, I’m so sorry. Jasper asked me to take him to school. Do you want to do it instead?"

Before I could utter a word, Jasper tightened his grip on her hand and shot me a glare.

"I don’t want you to take me. You don’t deserve to."

His words cut deep, but I met his gaze without hesitation. "Are you sure?"

"I’m sure."

"Alright. Then hear me clearly: I swear, for the rest of my life, I will never take you to school again."

Jasper faltered. He hadn’t expected me to be so resolute. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face before he threw out a final challenge.

"You better not regret it."

Neither of us backed down. The tension crackled between us until Ava quickly stepped in, her voice dripping with forced lightheartedness.

"Oh, come on! No need to argue like this. Let's just talk things through..."

I didn’t give her the chance. I saw right through her, and this time, I made sure she knew it.

"Stop pretending. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?"

Her face drained of color. Without another word, she tightened her hold on Jasper’s hand and hurried him away.

Once they left, I sat down for breakfast, though the food tasted like nothing. My mind was elsewhere.

Afterward, I returned to my bedroom, reached under my pillow, and pulled out the sleeping pills.

Ever since Ava moved in, my nights had been endless battles with insomnia, my thoughts gnawing at me until morning. Anxiety coiled around my chest like an iron grip. The doctor had prescribed these pills months ago, and over time, I had collected more than enough.

Crossing the room, I placed my miscarriage diagnosis report on Hugo’s study desk. A quiet statement left for him to find.

Then, without hesitation, I swallowed them all.

Lying down, a strange calmness settled over me as drowsiness took hold. My body felt heavy, the edges of my mind blurring.

Just as darkness began pulling me under, my phone screen lit up.

A message from Ava.

[Guess what? Tonight, is he spending it with you or with me?]

Five seconds later, the message vanished. Deleted.

My fingers slackened, and my phone slipped from my grasp.

My body felt weightless as if I had become a bird soaring through the endless sky, drifting effortlessly without the need to flap my wings.

I had no sense of time. The blinding white around me stretched endlessly, swallowing everything until it didn’t.

Slowly, the emptiness faded, replaced by the familiar neon glow of the city at night.

I was floating. Suspended high above the skyline, looking down at the world I had once called home.

"What’s going on?"

I turned to the system. "Am I not dead yet?"

The response was cold. "Program disengagement in progress. In 12 hours, the host will return to the original world."

Twelve hours.

A bitter sense of helplessness washed over me. Below, the city sprawled in every direction, lights flickering like distant stars. Ten years I had spent in this place, and now, I drifted above it like a ghost with nowhere to go.

Then, movement caught my eye.

Two familiar figures.

Hugo and Ava.

They sat across from each other in a high-end restaurant, bathed in the golden glow of candlelight.