After I became pregnant, my figure changed, and my face grew puffy. My fiancé began to treat me with a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of disdain.

When the baby was five months along, it happened to be Valentine's Day. That day, he finally agreed to take our wedding photos, something I'd been hoping for.

But just as we arrived at the bridal studio, his phone rang.

"Mike, I just got back to the country. My friends are hosting a gathering, and everyone's bringing their boyfriends. Could you come and pretend to be mine?"

It was a few short sentences, yet it completely altered the expression on his face. He turned abruptly, stepping out of the studio with a look of urgency.

"Lucy's back. I have to go see her," he said.

Hearing those words, a fire of rage ignited inside me, one I couldn't suppress.

"For her? You're going to leave me here alone?" I demanded. "Do you even know how long I've been looking forward to today? It's Valentine's Day, and instead of staying with me, you're going to be with her?"

His impatience flared visibly as I stood my ground. Without a word, his hand pushed me aside, and he strode out of the shop.

"We can take wedding photos any day. I'm the only one Lucy has in this country. I have to go see her," he said.

Then, gripping my wrist with alarming force, he shoved me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Without a backward glance, he got into his car and drove off.

I felt a sudden, wet heat flowing from my lower abdomen. Pain surged through my stomach, sharp and unbearable, as my consciousness started to fade.

A wave of despair and terror consumed me.

Someone. Anyone. Please save my baby.

The doctor looked visibly startled when he saw me in the hospital room.

Not long ago, I had come to him for a prenatal checkup and asked how to ensure my baby's health.

"I'm sorry. Unfortunately, the child couldn't be saved," he said, his voice tinged with pity and sympathy.

"Should we inform the father? Strange, it's Valentine's Day, and he's not here with you. Was there something urgent?"

Oddly, I felt nothing. Just an eerie calm.

"The child's father is already dead," I replied.

"You'll need to stay a few days for observation. I'll arrange a room for you," he said gently.

I nodded softly.

The hospital room was suffocatingly silent. I placed my hand over my now-flat stomach. My body had changed so much during the pregnancy—stretch marks had begun to appear. I never found them unsightly; they were gifts from my beloved child.

But now, those marks felt like cruel reminders, stabbing at my heart. My child was gone, taken away by his own father.

Memories flooded back: the cold operating table, the numbing anesthesia, and beside me, my tiny baby.

I cradled the small black box in my arms. My child rested inside it.

He hadn't even seen the world.

I'd failed him. I couldn't protect him.

Staring at the stark white ceiling, tears silently rolled down my cheeks.

Then Mike Forest called.

Against all reason, a sliver of hope flickered in my heart. But his voice, cold and arrogant, shattered it.

"Where are you? Lucy needs a necklace for a banquet. I remember you wore that custom Valentine's piece today. Bring it over quickly."

A bitter laugh echoed in my chest, mingling with despair.

He killed our child for Lucy Wicker, and now he wanted to take my Valentine's necklace and give it to her?

"Do you even remember leaving me alone at the bridal studio?" I asked.

Caught off guard, Mike paused for a moment before replying curtly, "Are you seriously holding a grudge over that? Wedding photos can be taken any time. Why are you being so petty?"

"And don't act so difficult. You have more than one necklace. Stop wasting time and bring it over," he added.

I felt a wave of nausea rise, sickened to my core.

This wasn't the first time he had taken something of mine for Lucy. First, it was a bracelet for a banquet. Then a dress, earrings, a ring.

I never refused him, letting him take whatever he wanted to give her.

They kept pushing further, even demanding I hand over company projects.

"You're the eldest daughter of the Miller family. Losing a project won't matter to you. But if Lucy doesn't secure it, she'll lose her job," he had said.

He took my proposal and presented it as hers, then threw a lavish celebration in her honor.

Now she wanted my necklace too?

Everything they had taken from me was never returned.

And this time, they wouldn't return it either.

I knew the truth—what Lucy truly wanted wasn't the necklace. She wanted Mike. She wanted to take him from me completely.

Before I could respond, I heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Does Ava not want to lend it to me? It's not her fault; it's mine for not preparing a suitable necklace in advance. I can go without one if I have to."

Mike's tone softened immediately, filled with careful reassurance. "Since you got pregnant, your figure's changed. You don't suit these things anymore. They'd look terrible on you."

I glanced at the necklace I had worn to the studio for the wedding photos we never took. My hands trembled with anger.

"Mike, our child…"

He cut me off. "When can you bring the necklace?"

Something inside me broke. Without another word, I hung up.

The phone screen lit up repeatedly, his messages flooding in.

"Bring the necklace within an hour, or our engagement is off. You wouldn't want our child to be born without a father, would you?"

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

Child?

What child?

How dare he call himself a father?

Clutching the black box tightly, despair and grief consumed me.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I broke down, sobbing in the hospital room.

Three days later, I finally walked out of the hospital.

Aimlessly, I wandered down the street until a sudden force shoved me to the ground. Startled, I turned to see Mike's furious glare.

"Where have you been these three days? Why didn't you answer your phone? Because of you, Lucy attended the banquet without a necklace and became a laughingstock. How dare you show your face here?"

I clutched my aching stomach, feeling the raw sting on my arm where the gravel had scraped the skin. Cold sweat broke out all over me.

Noticing me clutching my abdomen, a flicker of regret passed through Mike's eyes. He stepped closer as if to help me up.

I pushed his hand away, fighting back the pain. "Don't touch me."

Seeing the pallor of my face and the sweat beading on my forehead, he exhaled deeply, forcing himself to speak with restraint.

"Lucy hasn't been back in three years. This banquet was filled with old friends. What will people think of her now because of you?"

Before I could respond, Lucy appeared from behind him, her smile faint yet mocking as she approached. Pretending concern, she bent slightly as if to help me up.

"Ava, don't be angry at Mike. He's just upset for my sake." Her voice was syrupy sweet as she turned to Mike, playfully poking his head.

"Mike, even if you're standing up for me, you can't really lay a hand on Ava. She's still carrying your child."

His anger reignited at her words. Ignoring me, he snatched my bag from the ground, his sharp words cutting into me like knives. "Lucy is slender, young, and elegant—someone who truly deserves this necklace." He rummaged through the bag, pulling out the item he sought.

"Look at you now. Ugly and sloppy. Rather than making this necklace look bad, you might as well give it to her."

Once he found the necklace, he approached Lucy with care, carefully placing it around her neck.

My vision blurred with tears as I watched him, memories clawing their way back to the surface. I remembered how, when I first became pregnant, he'd touched my belly with cautious reverence.

He had promised to learn how to cook meals for expectant mothers, urging me to gain weight, to grow strong, so we could have a healthy baby.

Lucy's exaggerated gasp pulled me back to the present.

"Mike, this is the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen," she said, her voice dripping with delight.

His expression softened as he gazed at her. "If you like it, it's yours."

Lucy hesitated theatrically, stealing a glance at me. "But… Ava seems reluctant to part with it."

Mike's eyes turned cold as they landed on me. "She looks like this now—it is a waste on her. Don't worry about her. You keep it. I'll get you something even better next time."

The two walked off arm in arm, their closeness making it seem like they were the ones truly engaged.

I didn't look back. I retrieved my bag from the ground, pulled out my phone, and called for a car.

But as I swiped at the screen, a post in my feed caught my eye. My finger had slipped, unintentionally opening it.

In the post, Lucy was seated in the passenger seat, my necklace shining around her neck. Mike's profile was unmistakable beside her.

The caption read: "The one who loves me most [heart emoji]."

Without thinking, I tapped the like button.

Tears blurred the screen, distorting the image, as they rolled unchecked down my face.

On my way home, my phone rang. It was Mike.

"Ava, what's the meaning of this? It's just a necklace. Do you really have to make such a fuss? When did you become so petty?"

His tone was sharp, almost scolding.

Before I could respond, Lucy's voice, trembling with feigned guilt, chimed in, "Ava, I'm sorry. It's just… Mike treats me so well. I shouldn't have posted that photo online. I'm really sorry."

In the background, I heard Mike's quiet murmur as he comforted her, "Don't mind her. She's always like this, blowing up over trivial things."

The line went dead before I had the chance to say a word.

The cab driver seemed to sense the tension. To break the awkward silence, he turned on some music and stole a glance at me through the rearview mirror.

"My fiancé played boyfriend for someone else and even took her to a banquet," I said calmly.

The driver froze for a moment, then offered an awkward laugh. "Uh… well, that doesn't seem right…"

Even strangers could see the absurdity of it, yet Mike remained oblivious. I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

When I arrived home, Mike was already there. His expression was cold as he turned to me.

"Why were you at the hospital today? And where have you been these past two days?"

Before I could answer, the bedroom door swung open. Lucy stepped out.

"Ava, please don't be upset about today. I'll talk to Mike. It's all my fault. He shouldn't have lost his temper with you."

Her words drained any desire I had to respond. My gaze shifted to her—draped in one of my pajamas. I waited for an explanation.

Mike didn't even spare me a glance. Instead, he said flatly, "Lucy just got back to the country. It's not safe for a young woman to stay elsewhere, so she'll stay here for now."

He cast me a sidelong look. "Besides, you can't wear your old clothes anymore. Why not just give them to Lucy?"

It felt as though my heart sank to the ocean floor, weighted and aching. Without a word, I turned to head upstairs.

My silence seemed to catch Mike off guard. He stepped forward, blocking my path.

"Why are you acting like this? I'm not saying anything unreasonable. You weren't this petty before," he said, his tone almost admonishing.

"Lucy returned alone. If I don't take care of her, who will? And you're carrying my child. We're going to get married anyway."

His words, spoken so matter-of-factly, struck me with their hollowness. Instinctively, I rested my hand on my stomach, his patronizing tone almost too much to bear.

Seeing my expression, his gaze softened briefly. He reached out as if to take my hand, but before he could, Lucy's voice, tinged with a sob, cut through the air.

"It's all my fault, Mike. I never meant to hurt your relationship," she said, her tears perfectly timed. "If my presence is unwelcome, I'll leave."

With that, she spun around and ran toward the door.

Mike's face darkened. Gripping my arm, he barked, "Come with me to apologize to Lucy. If anything happens to her today, I won't forgive you!"