I stood where I was, the hurt in my chest making it hard to breathe.
I had always believed that when it came to the baby, at least Zion cared.
I believed he was ready to be a decent father.
But now I finally understood that it was nothing more than my own fantasy.
The baby wasn’t even here yet, and Zion could already, without a second thought, take everything meant for her and use it to flatter another woman.
I didn’t dare picture if the baby were truly born, would she really end up fighting a dog for clothes?
The small hope I still held that Zion might try to be a good father broke apart right then.
When I didn’t speak, Zion walked toward me instead.
He leaned down, his eyes dropping to my belly, his voice soft. “Baby, when the time comes, Daddy will buy you the nicest, the prettiest clothes, alright?”
“Those second-hand clothes from someone else, we don’t need them.”
Zion pinched my cheek again, smiling just as sweetly and charmingly as usual.
“Don’t make that sad look, little crybaby,” he said. “Relax, I’ll make it up to you.”
Staring at the face I knew so well yet felt so distant from, a wave of ridiculousness rushed through me.
There was a time when Zion and I spent night after night in this same office, staying up late, discussing proposals, chasing investors, planning the future.
But now, papers were scattered across the ground, flipped over in a mess, and even a few used condoms lay plainly on the carpet.
Everything here was dirty enough to make me sick.
That heavy sense of collapse hit me hard, and I couldn’t stop it. I covered my mouth violently.
The next moment, I spun around and ran out of the office, nearly tripping as I rushed into the restroom and threw up until I could barely stand.
When I came back, I never mentioned the clothes again.
Instead, I gently packed every single item set aside for the baby, the outfits, the toys, the little books, the mobile for the crib, and quietly had them moved to the house I bought abroad years ago.
Zion didn’t notice any of it. He assumed I had finally learned to be “understanding.”
So he started buying things to make up for me.
Pricey maternity outfits, limited-edition accessories, sets of designer clothes, pile after pile stacked inside the walk-in closet.
I didn’t even look at them.
He sent one round, and I had someone take one round away exactly as they came.
At the same time, Maeve started streaming more often.
Sometimes, during her broadcast, with just a small turn of her head, Zion’s figure would show up.
Sometimes he was passing her water, sometimes lowering his head to talk to her, sometimes only a fuzzy side view.
But even those so-called accidental moments together sent the comment area wild.
More people began pairing the two of them.
Some envied her, saying Maeve was lucky, that Zion was mature, wealthy, gentle, and even willing to publicly appear with her.
But not every comment was a blind cheer.
Clear voices showed up soon after.
[Isn’t this basically cheating?]
[Wow, cheat long enough and it becomes ‘real love’?]
[When Zion chased Mrs. Payne back then, wasn’t he giving her anything she asked for, practically offering his life?]
[Let’s be real. He’s just fooling around.]
When I saw these comments late at night, I suddenly thought of many years ago.
In university, I was the top student in our department.
Scholarships, contests, professor recommendations, everything came to me easily.
My whole life back then was made up of the library, the lab, and stacks of heavy textbooks.
But Zion was the opposite.
He skipped class, showed up late, had no interest in lessons, and was often called out by instructors, a walking warning sign in my academic world.
If it weren’t for Grandma Ravenna, I would never have crossed paths with him.
That year, with Ravenna’s financial help, I was able to finish school smoothly.
She treated me kindly, and she was very straightforward.
She said, “Zion has a wild streak. You steady him.”
I agreed.
So I began dragging Zion to class, pushing him to hand in assignments, pulling him to review, even sorting his notes for him.
I used every simple method I could think of to make him “act like a student.”
Later, he slowly changed.
He started arriving for class on time, started avoiding those messy circles, and started putting his energy into studying and real work.
And later, Zion fell for me, openly and loudly.
He ended all unclear relationships, wanted everyone to know he was chasing me, and even began seriously taking over work duties just to make me happy.
People in our circle all said I was the rope that held Zion down.
Back then, I believed it too.
I thought I was special.
I thought I was the one who pulled him out of trouble, the one who shaped who he became.
But now, thinking back, I suddenly saw it clearly.
I wasn’t a rope.
Maybe I had just shown up earlier than the others.
There were only three days left before the divorce.
And today was the livestream for the 5th anniversary of ‘Knowing Me.’
We had prepared for an entire year for this day.
I had always assumed that even if our marriage was full of cracks, at least in business, Zion would keep basic logic.
After all, ‘Knowing Me’ wasn’t only my effort.
It was something Zion and I built from zero, the core of the company, and the shared memories and feelings of countless players.
Because I was pregnant and tired, the one who was supposed to stand onstage today and face the audience was Zion.
During the practice two weeks earlier, everything went almost flawlessly.
I thought today would go the same way.
The host’s voice rose with energy as he introduced the main guest of the night.
The lights brightened, and the person who should have stepped forward was a newly popular actor we had paid a huge fee to bring in.
Instead, Zion showed up, holding Maeve’s hand, slowly lifting from the platform.
