"Have you thought it through? If you go through with this, it may bring you pain in the future," the doctor asked, her voice laced with concern.
I gently placed a hand over my lower abdomen, feeling the faintest spark of life within. Looking at the doctor with a calm I didn’t fully feel, I replied, "Yes, I’ve thought it through. Let this child go to another family that can give them happiness."
The doctor hesitated, her eyes searching mine for a trace of doubt. But seeing my resolve, she let out a soft sigh and turned back to her files. "Next week, pack your things and ask a family member to accompany you the day before the surgery to complete the formalities."
She seemed tired, as though this wasn’t the first time she had heard such a decision. Her sigh lingered in the room long after she left.
Later, I checked into a small hotel and settled down. Opening my laptop, I began organizing the files my professor had just sent over. No one in the academic circle knew about the surgery, and I wanted to keep it that way. If they found out, they’d only worry about me, and I couldn’t bear that.
"What should I do? The charming CEO only has eyes for me! I love him so much, I’ll work hard to be his partner for life! #Mr.Chandler"
The comments underneath made it worse, a chorus of support for their so-called "perfect couple."
"The domineering CEO from those short dramas has come true! I’m swooning!"
"[+1] I can’t handle this—they’re too cute!"
...
The picture showed a handmade dress—a gown I had asked Theo to help me find before leaving on a business trip. I had planned to wear it for our anniversary, but his response had been anything but supportive.
"It's just an anniversary, and you still want a handmade dress? Do you really think my money grows on trees?" he had snapped impatiently.
Now, seeing that very dress in his secretary's hands, displayed so openly on her social media, I felt a bitter irony. Still, I casually liked and commented under her post:
"The CEO from the office drama has become a reality, huh?"
I assumed my comment would go unnoticed, lost among the sea of sycophants fawning over her. But, to my surprise, a sharp-eyed colleague caught it and deleted it almost immediately. The entire comment section vanished shortly after.
They didn’t need to bother. I wasn’t the type to cling to a man who didn’t value me. Even if that dirty man knelt before me, begging for forgiveness, I wouldn’t give him so much as a glance.
Later, as I lay in bed, trying to will myself to sleep, Theo’s phone vibrated loudly in the room. The sound startled me, dispelling any remnants of sleepiness. I scrambled to mute it, my hands trembling.
For a brief, foolish moment, I thought he might have noticed my absence and called out of concern. But when I answered, his voice was anything but caring.
"What’s wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? Why are you commenting on Celeste’s post? She’s threatening to quit now!"
I couldn’t say a word, stunned into silence.
"Since you’re coming back from the airport, stop by the boutique street and pick up a gift for her. Apologize properly. We’re still working overtime here, and if she really quits, your project will have to be suspended."
His words were like a slap, each one stinging more than the last.
"Oh, and she’s been craving your sweet and sour pork ribs. She said she’s tried them before and loved them. Can you make some for her tomorrow?"
I froze. My chest felt hollow, and my hands went cold. I thought my heart had already turned to stone, but as his words sank in, I felt the familiar sting of betrayal. My nose burned as tears threatened to fall.
Why, even now, did his thoughtlessness still hurt?
He once instructed the housekeeper to keep me out of the kitchen, saying, "Your hands are meant for research, not cooking or washing dishes."
But back then, I was determined. Despite the burns and blisters from hot oil, I persisted. Mary, the housekeeper, couldn’t bear to watch me struggle and quietly guided me through each step. After countless attempts, I finally perfected the recipe.
The sweet and sour pork ribs he so casually mentioned? I spent hours secretly learning from tutorial videos, practicing over and over. Mary patiently corrected my mistakes until I got it just right. I even adjusted the sweetness because I knew he didn’t like overly sweet dishes. When I finally made it for him, I thought it would mean something.
But in the end, every bite ended up in her stomach.
Anyone with half a brain could see what was happening—how the boss doted on that “little girl” so blatantly. And now, he wanted me, his wife, to personally buy her a gift and apologize on her behalf? Where did that leave my dignity?
When Celeste threatened to resign, Theo panicked as if the entire company would crumble without her. His desperation was so evident that it stung.
I didn’t want to go. Every fiber of my being screamed against it. But Theo held the economic lifeline of our research team in his hands. If I refused, I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to cut our funding. The thought of jeopardizing months of hard work and my team’s efforts weighed heavily on me.
So, after much deliberation, I decided to go.
