Zoe sat quietly in the hospital corridor, her hand resting lightly on her stomach. Her eyes stung with tears she tried not to shed.

In her past life, during the years she was hopelessly in love with Dylan, she had imagined countless times what it would be like to walk down the aisle with him.

Later, after their son was born, she often felt guilty—guilty for not giving him a home filled with love.

But even after years of raising him, her son grew up to be just like his father—cold, distant, and in the end, he too turned into a knife that cut straight into her heart.

This time, she wouldn’t give him the chance to be born.

Just then, a sweet, overly familiar voice broke through the quiet hallway.

“Oh come on, Dylan! You’re totally overreacting. It’s just a little burn from the steam, that’s all. The doctor said I could’ve just rinsed it with cold water at home, but you dragged me all the way here. Now everyone’s looking at me like I’m ridiculous.”

Zoe looked up instinctively, her whole body tensing.

Jenny and Dylan were walking down the hallway, hand in hand. Their fingers were tightly laced together, their bodies close, their affection unmistakable.

Dylan leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, his gaze soft and full of warmth.

“This hospital belongs to my family. Let them laugh—I couldn’t care less,” he said softly. “Besides, I worked hard to get your hands this soft and pretty. Even a tiny scratch makes me worry.”

Jenny’s cheeks flushed pink. She playfully swatted his chest. “We’re in public—at a hospital, no less. Can you not?”

Dylan caught her hand and kissed it, his smile deep and full of charm. “You have no idea how much I’m holding back.”

Zoe watched the smile on his face, stunned for a moment—then the pain hit her like a blade.

In her past life, Dylan hadn’t smiled once after Jenny died.

He had fallen into a deep depression, wasting away day by day until he gave up entirely.

The man who had once been bright and proud had become a hollow shell of himself.

To stop him from taking his own life, the family had sealed every window in the house. No sharp objects, no medication, nothing remotely dangerous was allowed near him. The place was more prison than home.

But even so, Dylan managed to file down a toothbrush into a sharp point, planning to stab himself in the heart.

Zoe had caught him just in time.

In a panic, she tried to stop him, reaching out blindly. But in that crucial moment, Dylan threw out his hand to shield her instead.

The sharpened toothbrush went straight through his palm. Blood poured everywhere.

But he didn’t even flinch. He didn’t seem to feel pain at all. Instead, he broke down completely, shouting through his tears:

“Why?! Why won’t you just let me die?! Jenny’s down there all alone—I need to be with her! Get out of my way!”

Zoe had sobbed as she begged him, “Dylan, please, wake up! Jenny’s been gone for years. Can’t you let yourself go? Just once?”

Dylan had gone quiet.

After a long pause, his red-rimmed eyes stared at her, empty and bitter.

“You’re the one who won’t let me go.”

His hand never fully recovered after that. It was permanently damaged, unable to carry anything heavy again.

But strangely, after that day, he seemed to return to normal and started living his life again.

At first, Mr. and Mrs. Xander thought it was just a fleeting phase, a final burst of energy before a deeper collapse, so they watched him even more closely.

But half a year passed, and Dylan began acting like he had truly stepped out of the darkness. He smiled again. He worked. He seemed healed.

Eventually, his parents relaxed.

When he said he wanted to take a trip to the ocean, they even helped plan a cruise.

They never imagined what would happen next.

As the ship was swallowed by the rising waves, Zoe had watched Dylan break free of her grip with everything he had and that was when it finally hit her.

He had never healed.

He had spent six full months pretending—calmly, methodically planning the perfect opportunity to die.

Even if the tsunami hadn’t hit, he still would have jumped from the deck that day.

In the end, Dylan and Jenny became a tragic fairytale—one buried in the clouds, the other lost to the sea.

And Zoe? She was the bitter punchline of a cruel joke.

She fell into a spiral of guilt and heartbreak that never ended.

Dylan’s hand had already been crippled—so how had he still managed to break free from her grip?

In the end, she was the one who killed him.

Zoe wiped her tears with the back of her hand, trying to pull herself together. She was just about to stand and leave when Dylan suddenly turned and looked straight at her.

The moment their eyes met, the warmth on his face vanished. It was replaced with unmistakable disgust.

“Zoe, are you serious? Are you ever going to quit? You followed us all the way here?!”

Zoe quickly tried to explain. “I’m here for the procedure.”

Dylan paused, caught off guard for a second—but before he could say anything, Jenny’s eyes welled up with tears.

Her gaze dropped to Zoe’s stomach and lingered there for just a moment. Then she let out a soft, choked sob and turned to run.

“Jenny!”

Dylan caught her by the wrist, pulling her back. “What’s wrong? Jenny, talk to me!”

Tears streamed down her face. “Dylan… I think we should break up. She’s pregnant with your child!”

Zoe’s voice trembled. “I’m terminating it.”

Jenny glared at her through tears. “That baby is innocent. You’re a monster.”

Zoe was stunned.

If she hadn’t accidentally seen Jenny abusing a cat—and later caught her getting involved with multiple married men—she might have actually believed Jenny was pure and kind.

That moment of discovery was what had pushed Zoe to stay and marry Dylan in her past life.

But Dylan had never believed her. Not then. Not now.

Before Zoe could say anything, Dylan snapped at her with scathing rage.

“You planned this, didn’t you?!

“If you were going to end the pregnancy, you could’ve done it quietly. But no—you had to show up in front of us and put on this pathetic act. Let me make one thing clear: I don’t care. I’m not falling for your manipulative games.”

His voice was loud, echoing through the hallway. Heads began to turn.

And right on cue, Jenny started sobbing uncontrollably, looking as fragile and innocent as a porcelain doll.

The crowd didn’t hesitate to judge.

“What a shameless girl,” someone muttered.

“She looks decent enough. Who knew she was the type to chase after someone else’s boyfriend?”

“Some people really have no shame these days.”

Zoe finally understood what it meant to be condemned without a chance to defend yourself.

Her explanation burned in her throat, but refused to come out.

After a long silence, she lowered her eyes.

“Think whatever you want. You never believe me anyway.”

For a split second, Dylan looked surprised.

But it faded quickly. His expression hardened, his voice sharper than ever.

“You’re disgusting.”

He turned back to Jenny, gently wiping the tears from her face. Without even glancing at Zoe again, he wrapped an arm around Jenny’s shoulders and walked away.

Not long after, a nurse approached.

“Miss Stone, we’re ready for you.”

The chaos ended just like that.

Zoe gave a quiet nod. She placed a hand gently over her stomach, then turned and walked in the opposite direction from where Dylan had gone.

The procedure wasn’t as painful as she had imagined. After resting at the hospital for a few hours, she went home and began packing.

She had decided to move out during her final days here. Dylan clearly didn’t want her around.

Time passed slowly. She stared at the small suitcase on the floor, dazed.

She had lived in the Xander home for six years. Mr. and Mrs. Xander had always treated her well, like their own daughter. They had bought her so many things over the years.

She wouldn’t be taking any of it with her.

Which meant—there wasn’t much that truly belonged to her.

She set the suitcase aside and looked toward the photo frame by the bed.

It was an old group photo—one where she and Dylan looked much younger, their smiles unguarded.

After a moment of hesitation, Zoe took the photo out of the frame and carefully cut herself out of it.

“Zoe!”

The door suddenly slammed open. Dylan burst in, his face dark with fury.

When he saw the suitcase at her feet, he froze. Then his anger only deepened.

“Where do you think you’re going? You think you can run away after pulling something this low?”

Before she could respond, he threw a stack of photographs at her face with a sharp smack.

Zoe’s face flushed red, tears springing to her eyes as she stared down at the photos.

She took a closer look and felt sick to her stomach.

In every photo, a woman was tangled up with older men, shirtless, her expression dazed, her body posed in deliberately suggestive ways.

And the worst part? Every single photo starred her.

Dylan’s voice was ice-cold.

“Zoe Stone, if you want to be trash, that’s your business. But don’t drag our family name down with you.”

“How the hell did your parents raise such a shameless daughter?”

His eyes bore into her like she was filth.

Zoe shook her head quickly, panicked. “That’s not me in the photos. They’ve been doctored!”

Dylan let out a bitter laugh. “So now you’re denying it? You think I’d believe a word you say? You drugged me—God knows what else you’re capable of. Addicted to men, is that it? Can’t even keep it together while pregnant?

“Our family must’ve been cursed for generations to end up with someone like you. And my parents? They still think you’re some sweet little angel. The truth is, you’re absolutely disgusting.

“I bought every last one of these photos—not to protect you, but to protect the Xander family from embarrassment.”

Every word landed like a blade, stabbing deep into Zoe’s heart. She went pale, her body trembling. But more than pain, she felt rage.

Because she knew exactly who had orchestrated this.

“That’s not me in those pictures,” she choked out. “It’s Jenny. She’s the one who had them made. She hired someone to fake them!”

The truth burst out of her, along with uncontrollable tears.

The air fell still for a heartbeat—then the storm crashed in.

“What did you just say?” Dylan snarled.

He shoved Zoe against the wall. His once-gentle eyes were now bloodshot, wild, terrifying.

“You’re blaming Jenny? You really have no shame. You don’t even deserve to say her name!”

The back of Zoe’s head slammed into the wall. Her palm, already scraped raw, began to bleed again as she braced herself.

Tears ran freely down her face, but she glared at him with stubborn defiance.

“We grew up together, Dylan! Why won’t you believe me?!

“I know those photos were fake. Jenny had them made—she’s trying to frame me because I know what she—”

“Shut up!”

The sound of his slap cracked through the air.

Zoe’s head snapped to the side, and five bright red marks appeared instantly across her pale cheek.

Before she could even react, Dylan grabbed her by the jaw and spat in her face.

“You drugged me once. Why should I believe anything you say?”

That one sentence drained the strength from her body.

Without trust, nothing she said mattered.

Seeing her go quiet only fueled Dylan’s fury.

The truth was, when he first saw the photos, a small part of him had hesitated. But looking at Zoe now—her silence, her refusal to admit anything—only confirmed it for him.

She was that kind of girl.

And worse, she had the nerve to drag Jenny’s name through the mud.

His expression turned vicious. He grabbed Zoe’s arm and yanked her toward the door.

“You want to leave so badly? Then get out! Right now!

“You’re no longer welcome in this family. I don’t care if you die out there. From this point on, you’re nothing to us!”

Zoe had only just undergone the procedure. Her body was weak, aching, and vulnerable. Dylan’s grip was brutal, and she didn’t even have the strength to fight back. Pain twisted through her abdomen with every step.

“Dylan, please—calm down. Can we just talk?” she pleaded softly. “I just had surgery. I’m not feeling well. Can I at least stay until tomorrow?”

Her lips were almost colorless, her voice barely holding together—but none of it moved Dylan.

If anything, it only made him colder.

His grip tightened, and he dragged her harder.

“Don’t play the victim in front of me. You looked perfectly fine when you were out screwing around.”

His voice dropped, deadly sharp.

“You like chasing after men so much? Then go find them. Now.”