After entering a shotgun marriage with my CEO husband, my mom and my sister naturally moved into the Foster Estate to live off the family.
When my feet swelled during pregnancy, he would wash his hands and massage them for me.
Before the baby was even born, he had already chosen an heir’s name.
But when my CEO husband, Ryan Foster, was diagnosed with a terminal illness, incurable and irreversible, I was the first to burn through a million dollars of savings.
I quickly terminated the pregnancy and jumped on the trend of posting TikTok “Cheers to Myself” videos, designed to provoke.
Facing the camera, I smiled and said, “First glass, to my younger self. I was lucky enough to finish school with the help of kind strangers and part-time jobs to pay tuition, then married into wealth.”
“Second glass, still to myself. After Ryan got sick, I chose to end my pregnancy. That took courage—I didn’t want a child to hold me back in life.”
The online backlash was explosive, people furious at my shamelessness.
I only chuckled softly.
“Don’t be so quick to judge. Soon, all of you will owe me an apology.”
The moment the words left my mouth, the internet trolls erupted.
“Now anyone can just make these videos?”
“Are you dreaming? Your partner gets sick and you immediately abort the baby—are you even human? And you want us to apologize to you?”
“Keep dreaming!”
“People like you always get what’s coming!”
Some even DM’d me, asking for my address so they could send me razor blades.
I replied to each one.
“Go ahead. I’ll be here waiting. I bet you won’t dare.”
My words only enraged them further, their insults flooding the comment section.
Watching the chaos, I lifted the corner of my lips faintly.
Just as I was about to type, the sound of the door opening came—Ryan’s voice.
“Babe, do you want something to eat?”
“Mrs. Zhang said you went to the hospital today. Are you feeling unwell? I’m sorry, I haven’t paid enough attention to you lately because of my health.”
Ryan’s tone was warm, the tone of a good husband.
And he really was a good husband. No matter what happened, he was always the first to arrive, and he never once lost his temper with me.
Every anniversary gift was carefully prepared.
Our love never faded with time. During pregnancy, when my feet swelled, he massaged them himself every single night.
At a college reunion a month ago, his buddies teased him with laughter.
“Ryan, looks like you’ve really fallen hard.”
“But every ugly daughter-in-law eventually has to meet her in-laws. You two are already married—when will you take Emily Dawson to meet your mom?”
Standing at the door, eavesdropping, I couldn’t help but clutch the hem of my dress, my heart full of hope.
But Ryan didn’t answer. He only fixed his deep eyes on the man who had spoken.
That man immediately realized his mistake, panic flashing across his face as he stammered to change the subject.
“Ryan, it was my stupid mouth. Don’t be mad at me, okay?”
Another one of Ryan’s closest friends scolded him.
“Seriously, watch your tongue.”
“You know who Ryan is.”
“If he really loved Emily, would he have transplanted his and Lily Dawson’s embryo into her? Honestly, I can’t wait to see Emily’s reaction when she finds out the truth.”
Those words cut into me like knives, over and over.
In that moment, I couldn’t endure it any longer. I turned and fled.
Inside the private room, people had already noticed the commotion outside.
