###Chapter 3
I quickly smoothed my expression and turned around with a gentle look. "I wanted to tell everyone the good news about my pregnancy as soon as possible."
Cedric's brow remained furrowed, his tone carrying his usual commanding presence. "Why didn't you stay at the villa? Why did you come back alone?"
The strong scent of perfume coming from him churned my stomach, but I steadied my breathing and said softly, "The baby was kicking quite hard and I felt a bit unwell, so I came back first."
Only then did Cedric give a slight nod and casually toss his coat into my arms. "Alright. We'll have your mother come stay then."
I paused for a moment at the mention of her. My adoptive mother was a woman who, for as long as I could remember, had never given me a single warm look.
I once thought she was simply cold by nature, until my parents passed away and she took me back to the Lancasters to acknowledge my relatives. It was then that I saw her true self: how she doted on Sandra, tending to her every little hurt with tears and attentive care, serving tea and water with meticulous devotion.
That was when I knew it wasn't that she lacked love. She simply wasn't willing to spare even a shred of it for me.
And what about my "brother," William Lancaster?
The way he welcomed me "home" was by stuffing me into a dark servant's room. There was no joy of reunion in his eyes, only undisguised disgust and contempt.
"I've spent twenty-five years with Sandra. She is my only sister," he told me. "Blood relations? They mean nothing."
Even the family servants dared to mock me to my face, sneering, "She doesn't even know table manners. She's such a peasant. Look at Miss Sandra, that is true noble grace."
When Sandra and my adoptive mother eventually left after embezzling half of my parents' inheritance, the accusations against me came like an overwhelming tide. "You wicked woman! You drove Sandra away! You won't get a single penny of the Lancasters' wealth! You even kicked out the mother who raised you. You're utterly heartless!"
At that time, only Cedric stood by my side. He insisted on honoring the marriage agreement made by our parents, holding my hand and saying, "You are the true bloodline of the Lancaster family. My wife can only be you."
But last year, after Sandra had squandered the money, she officially returned. It was only now that I understood that not only did I never have a family, but even my marriage was an illusion.
As I hung up Cedric's coat, he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. His breath was so tender it made me shudder. "Darling, I want to announce our good news to the whole world on our twenty-fifth anniversary. I've prepared the grandest party for you and the baby."
Instantly, the cold, calculated words I had overheard in the bushes flashed through my mind. I suppressed the chill in my heart and forced a smile.
I reached for the divorce papers on the bedside table, flipped to the signature page and handed them to him. "Honey, I want to renovate the house, so I need you to sign for the payment."
Just as he took the pen, his phone rang.
Sandra's trembling voice came through. "Cedric, the rain is so heavy and it's so dark. I'm so scared, what should I do?"
"Don't move," he said urgently. "Send me your location. I'll be there right away!"
Cedric hurriedly signed his name on the agreement, tossed the pen aside and rushed out. From afar, he threw back a single sentence. "Sandra's place is leaking. She'll stay at our house for a few days."
He didn't even bother to ask my opinion, as if I weren't the lady of the house here.
As I've grown older, my sleep has become restless. In the middle of the night, while I was drifting in a daze, I heard a faint rustling in the hallway.
Had Cedric returned?
Immediately after, muffled gasps and whispers drifted through the crack in the door.
"Tomorrow, I'll remove her from her position at the company and give it to you. As long as I say it's for her to have a peaceful pregnancy, she'll do it obediently."
The silhouettes of two figures pressed together were cast onto the floor. The woman's voice was soft and tearful. "But I can't bear a child for you myself. The thought of having to rely on her makes my heart ache so much."
She even guided my husband's hand to press against her breast.
It was her own years of recklessness and multiple abortions that had ruined her health. Yet Cedric immediately comforted her gently, dialed a call on the spot and bought a star in her name. He even made a generous donation to the observatory, with their names engraved side by side.
Outside the door, the woman's moans became more melodic. I could only bury my face in my pillow, letting my tears quietly soak through the cloth.
Once upon a time, Cedric had done the same things for me.
On my twenty-fifth birthday, when he learned that my adoptive mother had never celebrated it, he made it up to me with twenty-five gifts, from the longevity lock of my first year to a luxury yacht for my twenty-fifth.
That man said he wanted to make up for all the warmth I had missed.
I still remember him kissing my cheek on that yacht deck, his eyes so sincere I felt I could drown in them. He whispered, "Macie, from now on, I will be your harbor. I want to give you the happiest home."
I believed him. I offered up half my life and a heart full of passion, only to find that at fifty years old, it was all nothing more than a fleeting illusion.
