When Levi Ezra and I got married, he had solemnly vowed he would love me for a lifetime.

Seven years later, he got another woman pregnant — a woman he had so carefully tucked away in a luxurious estate, complete with everything money could buy for a perfect, pampered delivery.

By the time I discovered the truth, his mistress's belly was already round and heavy. Her due date was just around the corner.

Levi had hesitated — for barely a second — before instinctively shielding her behind him, as though I were some threat.

He said, "Nikki, you're terrified of childbirth. Now that this baby is coming, the Ezra family will finally have an heir. You won't have to suffer anymore. We'll still be the same as before. Nothing will change."

I clutched the freshly issued pregnancy report in my hand — the one confirming my own child — and let out a laugh so sharp and brittle that it shattered into tears.

The day his mistress went into labor, I terminated my pregnancy. I left the divorce papers on his desk, packed my bags, and boarded the first flight to a foreign land.

The day my pregnancy was officially confirmed, I visited the estate Levi Ezra had prepared for my maternity care seven years earlier.

I never imagined I would stumble across a scene that would shatter me so completely: my husband, still dressed in the outfit I had so carefully selected for him, was walking side-by-side with another woman.

Her belly was swollen, heavy with child.

Levi reached out tenderly, his palm resting against her rounded stomach. His face was illuminated with an expression so soft, so full of adoration, it was as if the world around them did not exist.

There was a deafening roar inside my head. I froze, rooted to the spot, feeling the ground tilt under me.

When Levi finally noticed me standing there, his face turned deathly pale in an instant.

The woman, too, lifted her head in confusion, only for panic to sweep across her features when she saw me.

Levi recovered first. He quickly gestured for her to return inside the house, then hurried over to me, grasping my hand in his.

"You're wearing too little — your hands are freezing," he said. But the tremble in his hands betrayed the fear he was desperately trying to conceal.

After three years of dating and seven years of marriage, I knew exactly what such a reaction meant.

I tore through the fragile facade he had tried so hard to maintain, my voice quivering as I forced the question out, "When did this happen?"

He flinched, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, before he struggled to speak. "Last summer... when your grandmother passed away... you returned home for the funeral—"

It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me. My mind blanked; it took a long moment before I could even find my voice again.

"So, when my grandmother died, and you said you had to go on a business trip... it was a lie?" I whispered hoarsely. "At the very moment I was grieving, at my lowest, you chose to sleep with someone else?"

No wonder he had returned earlier than planned, managing to attend the funeral after all.

I had foolishly believed he had come back because he was worried about me.

But now I knew — it was nothing more than guilt, born from betrayal.

"It wasn't like that!" Levi interrupted desperately, stumbling over his words in panic. "It wasn't a lie — the business trip was real. But I... I was so upset that I couldn't be there for you. I drank too much at a dinner meeting...

"She was my new assistant. I don't even know how it happened. It was just that one night, Nikki, I swear — it only happened once! Please, you have to believe me!"

What an innocent excuse. The way he told it, it almost sounded like it was somehow my fault.

I bit back my tears and asked, "Then what about the child? If it was just a drunken mistake, why didn't she terminate the pregnancy?"

Levi flushed, his mouth opening and closing several times before he managed to stammer out an answer.

"She's too young... and inexperienced. By the time she realized she was pregnant, it was already five months along. The doctors said it would be too dangerous to abort.

"I thought... since you didn't want to go through childbirth... maybe we could raise this child as our own. You wouldn't have to suffer. And after she gives birth, I would pay her off — make sure she disappears from our lives forever."

I stared at him, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all.

"So, let me get this straight — you cheated for my sake? You thought letting another woman bear a child for me would be an act of love?" I asked, my voice cracking with emotion.

Tears streamed down my face as I laughed and cried at the same time, the sound so unhinged it made Levi look genuinely frightened.

"Nikki, don't... don't be like this—"

"And how exactly should I be?" I screamed at him, the dam of fury and grief finally bursting. "Should I get on my knees and thank you? Should I be grateful for everything you've done?"

As if on cue, a pale, trembling figure rushed out from behind him. Without a word, his mistress dropped to her knees before me.

"Nikki, please don't blame Levi," she sobbed. "He didn't mean for any of this to happen. Once the baby is born, I promise — I'll disappear. You'll never have to see me again. Please believe me."

Levi hurriedly pulled her up, shielding her behind him once more, and turned to me, his voice thick with pleading. "Nikki... no matter what, the child is innocent..."

I felt the blood rush to my head, my chest burning with a fury I could barely contain.

How had it come to this — how had I become the villain in their story?

I fought to steady my breath, swallowing down the bitterness that rose to my throat.

"Levi, is this child so important to you?"

He said nothing. But the unwavering look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

My eyes stung, my lips trembled. I bit down hard, forcing back the tears.

"Fine, I'll grant you your wish. We're getting a divorce."

I turned on my heel.

But before I could take more than a few steps, the world tilted violently — darkness rushed in.

And just before I lost consciousness, the last thing I heard was Levi's panicked voice, screaming my name.

When I woke up, I found myself lying in a hospital room.

Levi was there, clutching my hand tightly. His eyes stared at me with the kind of intensity one might reserve for the rarest treasure in the world.

In that moment, a montage of beautiful memories flickered across my mind, each one stabbing a little deeper into my heart. Before I could stop myself, tears welled up, threatening to spill over.

Levi... he had been my junior back at university.

At the freshman orientation party, he had fallen for me at first sight and launched the kind of passionate pursuit that would make even the boldest suitor blush.

I, mindful of the age gap between us and the wide chasm between our family backgrounds, had rejected him time and again.

But Levi had never once given up.

The summer of my junior year, I interned in Reinstern City—and fell terribly ill. It was serious enough to land me in the hospital, and somehow, news of my condition traveled to him.

He had been on the verge of boarding a plane for an overseas holiday when he heard. Without a second thought, he canceled his trip and came straight to Reinstern City.

When I woke up in that hospital bed back then, the scene had looked exactly like this—him gripping my hand so tightly, his eyes rimmed red, looking every bit like a broken little puppy.

When he saw me open my eyes, he choked out, "Nikki, don't ever scare me like that again. I swear, I'll die."

At the time, I thought he was being melodramatic.

How long had we even known each other? How could things have gotten so life-and-death so quickly?

But then, he pressed his forehead to the back of my hand—and a moment later, a single, searingly warm tear fell onto my skin.

It didn't burn, and yet somehow, it left a scar.

There is nothing more powerful than the tear of a boy of eighteen or nineteen. It's the purest love confession there is.

After I was discharged, I finally said yes to him.

He was so ecstatic, he bought an entire truckload of roses and handed them out to everyone on the street, just to collect a thousand blessings of "forever and always." He believed those blessings would make our love sweeter and everlasting.

After graduation, he couldn't wait for another second. He proposed, and we were married in the blink of an eye.

He said there were just too many temptations in the world—he had to lock me down before someone else stole me away.

We had been married seven years, and every single day still felt like we were newlyweds.

Because of my complicated family background, I had always been afraid of having children. But Levi had never once pushed me.

He bore the brunt of our parents' relentless pressure all by himself, taking full responsibility without ever letting it touch me.

I couldn't bear to see him suffer. So I had quietly planned to get pregnant, hoping to surprise him with the greatest gift of all.

But I never imagined the man who once said he feared losing me to temptation would, in our seventh year of marriage, finally succumb to temptation himself.

Now, we sat in silence.

Finally, Levi averted his gaze and murmured, "I'll get the doctor. And your test results."

My heart lurched.

Panic gripped me—what if he discovered the pregnancy?

Quickly, I grabbed his wrist.

"No rush. Let's talk about the divorce first."

He froze. Then, large teardrops began rolling uncontrollably down his cheeks as he shook his head desperately.

"Nikki, please... don't say things you don't mean. I can't bear it..." His voice cracked, his eyes a pitiful red mess.

Once upon a time, the sight of him crying would have shattered me into pieces.

But now? Now I felt nothing but a hollow, cold disgust.

Expressionless, I stared at him.

"When you chose to sleep with another woman while I was mourning the death of my grandmother, did you think about whether I could bear it? When you stood there, gently touching her pregnant belly, looking forward to your child's birth... did you ever once think about whether I could bear it?"

It was as if someone had pressed pause on him. Levi gaped, speechless.

After a long, heavy silence, he mumbled feebly, "But Nikki... I'm only human. You have to allow me to make mistakes..."

How absurd. I let out a cold, brittle laugh.

"So I can make mistakes too, right? I can sleep with another man, get pregnant with another man's child, and come back asking you to raise it as your own?"

"Of course not!" Levi shouted.

I stared at him, my gaze icy, letting him hear the deafening silence that followed.

Realizing how ridiculous he sounded, he finally broke down and slumped at the side of my bed, his face buried in his hands.

"Nikki... my parents said if we didn't have a child soon, they'd force me to divorce you... I didn't want to pressure you, I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't know what else to do. The baby... it was a mistake. But if this mistake can save our marriage—Nikki, you know it—you know I can't live without you!"

By the end, he was sobbing uncontrollably, his grip on my hand growing almost painful, as if he could physically tether me to him and keep me from slipping away.

Of course I knew Levi loved me.

I wasn't blind — how could I not see the depth of emotion burning in his eyes?

His love for me lived in every tiny, exquisite detail of our life together, so obvious it needed no confirmation.

The way he instinctively pulled me into his arms every time I so much as shifted in bed.

The way he remembered every offhand comment I made and quietly made it happen.

The way his gaze clung to me, no matter the time, no matter the place, like I was the only thing worth seeing in the world.

It was precisely because of all this — because the love was so meticulous, so overwhelming — that this relationship could not withstand even a single betrayal.

I stared at him, slowly peeling back the layers until the ugliest truth was laid bare.

"Can you honestly tell me you don't have any feelings for her?" I asked.

"Of course!" Levi answered without a moment's hesitation.

I closed my eyes briefly, willing myself to stay calm, and then turned my head, my voice cool as I continued.

"Then why did you keep her résumé? We've known each other for years — when have you ever gotten so drunk? Why was it that after that particular business trip, your phone was never on silent again? And every month, without fail, you suddenly had to go on 'business trips.' Where exactly did you go?"

With each question, Levi's face drained a shade paler.

And with each answer unspoken, my heart tore another inch apart.

It hit me — I had seen that woman before.

A year ago, I had dropped by his office to bring him lunch, and on his desk, set conspicuously aside from the others, was a résumé. The girl's picture smiled up at me — bright-eyed, radiant, almost offensively beautiful. She was our alumna, though her major and work experience were completely unsuited for the position.

When Levi caught me staring, he casually took the résumé from my hands, his expression unreadable.

I had asked him about it then.

"Planning to hire her? She's an alum, sure, but she doesn't seem very qualified," I said.

He'd brushed it off, explaining that HR had forwarded it, but he was about to pass on her. And because he said it so casually, so convincingly, I didn't think twice.

But after that day, Levi who had never mixed home with work suddenly changed. He started taking work calls at home — frequent ones. He even lost his temper on the phone a few times, something I'd never seen before.

I had teased him once. "Who is it that could get our mild-mannered Levi so worked up?"

He'd paused, then said, awkwardly, that it was just a new and careless assistant, nothing major.

I nodded, brushing it off.

After that, though, he stopped taking calls in front of me altogether.

I was a light sleeper, and ever since we got together, his phone had always been on silent at night.

But after that business trip? Never again.

There were nights when his phone would buzz in the middle of the night, and he would slip out, saying he had to work late.

And those monthly trips — I realized now — weren't business trips at all. They were visits to accompany her for prenatal checkups.

The cracks had been there all along.

Looking back, retracing every step with the truth in my hand, it was glaringly obvious. I had simply refused to see it.

And now that the flimsy veil had been torn away, all that remained was raw, gaping wounds. Every drop of blood was a silent testament to the broken, bleeding corpse of our marriage.

Levi stood in front of me, ghostly pale, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, utterly speechless.

The sharp ring of his phone shattered the thick, suffocating silence.

He glanced at the screen, and although guilt flashed in his eyes, he still answered the call.

There was no doubt about who it was.

I turned away, biting down hard on my lip, refusing to show even a flicker of the pain ripping through me.

On the other end of the line, a voice said something I couldn't hear, and Levi, visibly agitated, snapped back.

"Your stomach hurts again? You call me for every little thing! Even if you really are uncomfortable, the nanny will take you to the hospital. I'm not a doctor. What's the point of calling me?!"

I watched him.

He hung up on Lily White in front of me, sure. But the tightness in his brow, the nervousness in his eyes — those were betrayals he couldn't conceal. After all, Lily was carrying his child.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

Then I climbed out of bed.

"Let's go," I said coldly. "I'll come with you to see her."