### Chapter 4
My father's brow didn't even twitch.
"This is what you owe Melanie."
My mother let out a heavy sigh.
"You know perfectly well your sister's uterine lining is too thin. She may only ever carry one child in her whole life. And instead of supporting her, you hurt her."
"So you just stood back and let the doctor take my womb!" The last of my strength gave out and I slid to the floor, hid my face in my hands, and sobbed.
I had once walked away from the adoptive parents who cherished me for the sake of that blood tie, and in the end, what this "family" gave me wasn't happiness. It was this.
I was such a fool.
"Enough." Cyril rubbed at his temple and called for the housekeeper. "Tear down the nursery."
My head snapped up.
"What are you doing?!"
That nursery was mine. I had chosen every detail of it, designed and arranged each one with my own hands.
I'd worn myself out trekking through store after store, agonizing over the color of the wallpaper, the weight of the curtains, the shape of the cradle. The last small piece of my child I had left, and he wanted to destroy even that?
"Melanie's due in six months. The room needs to be redone."
There was a warning in the way he looked at me. "She hasn't been well since the pregnancy. As of today she's moving in to live with us. I hope the two of you can get along."
Melanie bit her lip and spoke in a small, timid voice.
"If my sister would rather I didn't, I can take the baby and live with Mom and Dad."
"No. I won't rest easy unless I'm the one looking after you." There was no room for negotiation in Cyril's tone. "The Weiss heir deserves the best possible environment to grow up in."
Over his shoulder, Melanie shot me a glance, and a smug little smile crossed her face.
The housekeeper went off at once to arrange for the nursery to be torn down.
I sat where I was, dazed, and watched them gather around Melanie and lead her off to the hospital, to have a look at that "injured finger" of hers that already barely showed a mark.
The burn on my leg was still raging. My heart had gone numb.
My tears stopped.
I remembered something my adoptive mother once told me.
"Tears are only ever a weapon bad people use to hurt you. You have to learn to brew them into poison and feed it to them with a smile."
She was right. I would never let my tears be a letter of surrender again.
I stood up, looked coldly at the enormous wedding portrait hanging in the living room, picked up a bottle of Lafite, and hurled it. The frame came down and shattered to pieces.
Then I shredded every photo of us in the house and smashed seven years' worth of keepsakes into fragments.
I called for the maid and gave my instructions calmly.
"Fiona, clean this up. These bags, and this jewelry, they're all yours."
"Ma'am, your leg..." Fiona's voice trembled as she looked at the blisters covering my foot. "Let me see to it for you."
She was probably the only person left in this house who felt any pity for me.
Eyes red, she dabbed on the ointment in silence, and again pressed me to go to the hospital.
But I was so tired. I shook my head, curled into the bed, and sank into a heavy sleep.
When I woke again, it was somehow already the next day.
I had just finished washing up when Cyril's voice came from behind me. "Julie."
Looking at my worn, hunched figure, he reached out to touch my hair. I turned my head away.
His hand froze in midair.
"Don't worry. Melanie moving in doesn't change the fact that you're my wife."
I blinked, my eyes dry. "Fine. I'll get along with her."
"You agree?" He sounded a little surprised.
"Why wouldn't I?" I answered evenly. "I can't have children anymore. But I still want to be a mother."
He seemed quite pleased with that answer.
"I'm glad you've finally come around. Does your leg still hurt?"
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. My brother, Lucas Henson, walked in, Melanie trailing behind him.
Lucas fixed Cyril with a hard look. "I trust you'll take care of my sister and my nephew. I'd hate for her to be hurt by certain people in this house."
Then that cold, cutting gaze landed on my face.
Cyril frowned slightly. "Relax. Julie's already agreed to get along with Melanie."
Melanie gave me a timid little glance, and Lucas immediately pulled her into the crook of his arm, his voice impossibly gentle.
"If someone dares to bully you again, you call me. Mom, Dad, and I will always be on your side."
Melanie shook her head.
"It's all right. My sister doesn't like me, but for the baby's sake, I can put up with anything."
Cyril stroked her hair and swore, "With me here, no one's going to bully you."
What a touching picture.
My mouth twisted into a bitter smile.
From my husband to my own family, every last one of them lavished pity on her, no questions asked. And I was forever the one in the wrong.
A dry, cold laugh forced its way up my throat.
"That's right. I'm the woman who's always hurting people, the mistress who seduces other women's husbands and even bears their children."
"And the precious daughter you Hensons raised is as pure and innocent as a white lotus!"
