Back in the car, Scott must've picked up on her mood. He reached over and grabbed her hand. "What's wrong? Another tough patient?"

Vanessa had always been empathetic, often feeling deeply sorry for her patients.

"Yeah..." She paused, then looked at him. "Saw a pregnant woman today. She's someone's mistress. Crazy, right? Makes me wonder—why do people cheat? Is trash from outside really that tempting?"

Scott's eyes flashed with panic, but he covered it fast, tugging her into his arms. "Babe, you're too sensitive. You always take on other people's problems. But... look, people are people. They have impulses. Sometimes they just want something different. It's human nature."

Vanessa met his gaze, her emotions tangled.

At noon, she'd been wrecked—seven years of loyalty, down the drain. Anyone would've crumbled. But after hours of letting the betrayal simmer, something inside her shifted.

Now, hearing Scott's smug little life lesson about "impulses," she wasn't hurt anymore.

She was done.

"So, you thinking about trying something new?"

His hand twitched on her shoulder. Just for a second. Then came the practiced answer. "You're all I need," he said softly. "What we have? Can't be replaced. I don't need anything else."

Right. Sure. Vanessa gave a bitter smile to herself.

If she hadn't met Cindy today, maybe she'd still buy that lie.

Then his phone rang.

Scott glanced at the screen, his expression tightening before smoothing out. With a quick look at her, he answered and angled himself toward the door, putting space between them.

Subtle.

But not subtle enough.

His Bluetooth earpiece beside her was still on.

Vanessa heard everything.

Cindy's voice rang through the earpiece.

"I've been feeling so sick today," Cindy said. "Morning sickness is brutal. Come have dinner with me? I even bought that little uniform you like."

Vanessa's nails dug into her palms as she held it together. Barely.

Scott wrapped up the call fast, turning back to her with that apologetic grin. "Sorry, babe. Something urgent came up at work. I gotta go. Let me call you a car, okay?"

Vanessa's head buzzed. She couldn't even process how casually he was lying to her face. Urgent at work? Right.

Feigning concern, she said, "I'll come with you. I'm not busy."

His face tightened instantly.

"You've had a long day," he said. "I'll be tied up for hours. You'll just get tired waiting around. Be good, okay? I'll come home as soon as I can."

There it was—his 'thoughtful' act. But Vanessa already knew everything.

She didn't push it. She was too drained—emotionally wiped.

She told the driver to pull over, got out of the car, and stood by the roadside, watching Scott's luxury car disappear into the night.

Her heart felt like ice.

She wandered under autumn night, her mind dragging her back to the early days.

Scott quit his stable job to chase a startup dream, full of big promises and bigger risks. She'd supported him through it all—quietly, patiently.

She'd used her own paycheck to keep them afloat.

She could still feel the sting of those brutal winter mornings, biking to work through the freezing cold, shivering just to save cab fare. All so Scott could eat a decent meal.

And back then?

He used to tell her:

"Vanessa, trust me. I'll make it big. I'll buy us a house. We'll have everything."

And:

"I'll never let you down. Not in this life. Never."

Vanessa let out a bitter smile as she walked.

Scott had kept his promise. He gave her the big house, the fancy life.

But somewhere along the way, he forgot the part about never letting her down.

When Vanessa got home, she took a hot shower to shake off the cold, then started packing.

She folded her clothes into a suitcase and booked an international courier to pick it up.

A housemaid noticed and asked, "Ma'am, going on a business trip?"

"No." Vanessa wasn't about to share her plans with anyone tied to Scott. She offered a quick excuse. "Just sending old clothes to charity."

"You're always so kind. Oh, I made you some rice pudding—Mr. Fabel called earlier. He asked me to make it. Said it's your favorite."

Of course, he did.

Vanessa let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

Scott. The master juggler. Balancing her and Cindy like some twisted circus act. Even while doting on his pregnant mistress, he still found time to play the "perfect boyfriend" card. No wonder everyone thought he was such a catch.

All those years of her support and sacrifices, reduced to nothing more than background noise in his carefully curated image. She finally saw him for what he was—a good actor.

Her gaze landed on the bowl of rice pudding. Her stomach twisted.

The nausea came fast, and she couldn't tell if it was from the thought of Scott's smug face or the realization that she'd been breaking her back for a man who never deserved her. Either way, it hit hard.

Vanessa barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up.

Gripping the sink, she blinked through tears at her reflection.

Then a thought sliced through her daze.

She opened the cabinet, pulled out a pregnancy test, and took it.

Her hands shook as she set the stick on the counter.

Her period had been late for a few days, but she'd assumed it was due to stress from work.

Now, as the minutes ticked by, her heart pounded.

Then, finally, the result appeared.

Two lines.

Vanessa's hands trembled as she held the test.

No joy. No excitement. Just a crushing weight, heavy as concrete, settling on her heart.

If she'd found out even yesterday, she would've been thrilled. She would've run to Scott with baby plans and wedding talk.

But now?

Scott was at Cindy's.

How could she feel happy?

Vanessa dragged herself out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at nothing. Hours slipped by as she sat there, her mind spinning.

A baby.

She loved kids—always had. She used to dream about having a family with Scott. Wondering whose smile their kids would have, imagining bedtime stories, family vacations. But in none of those dreams did it end like this.

Her phone rang, cutting through the silence.

Scott.

"Hey," he said. "I've got to leave for a last-minute business trip. I'll be gone about a week. Make sure you eat on time, okay? And be careful commuting to work."

Vanessa caught a faint voice in the background:

"...confirming two tickets to Bali. Thank you for booking with us."

"Got it," she replied, her voice steady. "You take care too."

That calm, gentle tone always put him at ease. Scott bought it.

The moment the call ended, Vanessa let out a soft chuckle.

A few hours ago, she'd been torn about what to do.

Now, she knew exactly what had to happen.

She picked up her phone and requested leave from work. Then she scheduled a doctor's appointment.

The baby had to go.

That night, she didn't sleep.

***

By morning, Vanessa was at the hospital.

After her check-up, the doctor led her to the procedure room.

She lay down on the operating table, her body stiff against the metal. The cold air bit at her skin.

But the real cold wasn't from the room—it was inside her. Deep in her heart, spreading like frost, numbing everything.

And just like that, every tie to Scott snapped.

From now on, they'd go their separate ways.

When Vanessa woke up, the IV drip was in place. Her hand instinctively drifted to her stomach, pressing lightly.

Flat.

Empty.

Was it really over?

Her pale lips curved into the faintest smile.

When Vanessa got home from the hospital, exhaustion hit her like a freight train.

She told one of the maids to prepare a gift box.

The maid smiled. "For Mr. Fabel?"

"Yeah. Our eighth anniversary's coming up."

Perfect timing.

Her flight to Italvia was booked for the same day. A clean break.

Once the maid left, Vanessa sat at the table and started filling the box. Her pregnancy test result went in first. Next, the termination papers. And finally, Cindy's pregnancy report.

She pictured him opening the box—watching the realization crash over him. Too bad she wouldn't be around to see the look on his face.

Later that night, Scott called at his usual time.

His voice dripped with fake warmth.

God, what a joke.

Then Vanessa heard it—Cindy's light, teasing voice in the background. She asked Scott what they should eat for dinner.

Silence stretched between them.

Vanessa didn't say a word.

Scott cleared his throat. "Uh, I had to rush out for a business meeting. Cindy... she's good at her job, so I brought her along."

Vanessa kept her voice even. "Oh, I know. She's capable. Otherwise, you wouldn't value her so much."

"I've got a video conference—I'll call you later," Scott blurted out, his voice tight with nerves. He hung up before she could say anything else.

Moments later, her phone buzzed with a DM.

From Cindy.

Vanessa had only accepted her friend request earlier that day.

The pic loaded fast.

Scott, dripping wet, towel hanging way too low.

The message? Pure venom.

[See that? Your man? Yeah, he just got done with me. Said he's tired of doing it with a stuck-up ice queen. Likes me soft. Real soft.]

Vanessa froze, nausea rolling in waves.

A year. Maybe longer. That's how long Scott had been crawling into Cindy's bed.

How many times had he swung by to pick Vanessa up from work, freshly showered after screwing Cindy?

Swallowing her disgust, Vanessa calmly replied to Cindy's message.

[Take it easy. Stress isn't good for that baby you're banking on.]

Send.

Then, silence. Just her, sitting on her bed.

She clicked on Cindy's profile and began scrolling.

And there it was—the whole affair laid out in selfies and captions.

[My hubby bought me this ring—love it so much!]

The photo? A flashy diamond ring.

Scott's comment underneath:

[Babe, as long as you're happy.]

Vanessa kept going.

[I was feeling down, so my hubby took me shopping. Let's see if he dares to upset me again next time!]

Scott's response?

[Honey, I'm sorry! Won't happen again!]

Another post caught Vanessa's eye.

[From now on, it's the three of us—feeling so blessed!]

Attached was a picture of Cindy's pregnancy checkup results.

Scott's comment?

[I've got you and the baby. Always. Love you, baby.]

Her stomach twisted so hard she thought she might throw up. But she didn't stop.

Another comment caught her eye—one from Scott's inner circle.

[Congrats! Scott, you better throw us a party soon!]

Everyone had known.

While she was stumbling around in the dark, thinking Scott was hers, all their friends had been in on the secret.

Those same friends who used to tease her about how lucky she was. How Scott couldn't stop talking about her.

Yeah. What a joke.

Looking back now, it was so obvious. She'd been blind—stupidly blind.

The two most recent posts on Cindy's profile were from that day.

The first? Their flight tickets and a shot from the plane cabin.

The second? A picture of two hands intertwined across a dinner table.

Vanessa knew that hand.

She'd held it more times than she could count.

Cindy's profile was full of photos like that—smiling, glowing, thriving.

All of it, courtesy of him.

Vanessa's life? A cruel joke.

She snapped into action.

Screenshots. Every post, every comment Scott left.

Printed.

And packed into the gift box.