Facing the senior perfumer's half-joking question, Sebastian simply smiled.
"The scent on my secretary is one of my blends. A practice piece I'm pretty satisfied with."
He didn't mention the perfume on me at all. Perhaps he was afraid that others would think he had terrible taste.
I lowered my gaze, forcing a weak smile.
Back then, for my sister, Sebastian stayed up three nights straight, creating the first perfume of his life just for her.
That perfume held the softest part of him, the pure devotion of his youth.
My sister had held that bottle like a priceless treasure. She even sprayed some on my wrist, grinning brightly. "Sis, smell it! Isn't it lovely? My boyfriend made it just for me!"
I smiled and said yes, it was lovely, and yes, I envied her.
But the truth was—I never envied the perfume. I envied the position of being cherished, chosen, held tenderly in someone's palm.
And me?
It wasn't until our fourth year of marriage that Sebastian finally gave me a "perfume."
For an event like tonight, I couldn't possibly show up wearing nothing. So I had carefully taken out that bottle—the only one I felt presentable—and checked the scent over and over before coming.
Who would've thought... The perfume he gave me was a cheap roadside knockoff.
Absurd. Ridiculous.
The wife of a renowned master perfumer... wearing a perfume that smelled like fifty cents at a street corner.
While his secretary wore a fragrance handcrafted with devotion and romance.
Sebastian didn't spare me a glance, nor did he notice my expression. Soon, he and Sabrina were immersed in business matters I had never been allowed to touch.
He was the one who insisted I accompany him—yet at this moment, I was nothing but a decorative vase left in the corner.
And Sabrina, with her effortless grace, looked more like his wife than I ever did.
The crowd buzzed with conversation and lights, but dizziness overwhelmed me. My stomach churned violently.
I hurried to the restroom, gripping the sink as my breaths came fast—like someone drowning, desperately gasping for air.
This pregnancy was hitting harder than the first.
Maybe this child also sensed that neither of his parents wanted him.
When I finally calmed down, I splashed cold water on my face and turned to leave—but froze the moment I stepped into the hallway.
A small boy, maybe three or four, stumbled across the carpet and ran forward.
"Daddy!"
Sebastian paused—then opened his arms.
The boy threw himself into his chest, giggling sweetly. "Daddy, hug!"
Sabrina followed beside them, smiling as she straightened the boy's collar. "Don't make trouble. Daddy still has work."
Sebastian crouched down, gently smoothing the boy's hair. His voice was soft. "Alright, no fussing. Why did you come find Daddy today?"
The child pouted adorably. "I missed you, Daddy."
I stood frozen. Something lodged painfully in my throat.
The "baby" Sabrina mentioned earlier... I didn't think much of it. I thought she meant a future child.
I never imagined... They already had one.
And he was three or four years old.
Which meant—back when Jacob was at his worst... Back when I was kneeling outside hospital doors, begging doctors, crying myself hoarse every night holding my dying child—Sabrina had been pregnant with Sebastian's baby, close to delivery.
While I drowned in grief over my son's death, Sebastian had already welcomed a new heir.
And to protect that child's inheritance, he had drugged me.
Cold spread down my spine, heavy and suffocating.
He lifted the boy onto his shoulders, making him laugh gleefully. The child's legs kicked in excitement as he patted his father's hair.
It was warm, and soft. A picture-perfect moment.
But to me, it was blinding.
Jacob used to want nothing more than a hug from his father.
But Sebastian only frowned. "Boys shouldn't cling so much."
He couldn't even spare five minutes of patience. To him, Jacob had been nothing but a sick burden.
But this child—this child was his treasured jewel.
My tears spilled before I could wipe them away.
I hadn't even processed the scene when a hand yanked me backward—vicious, forceful.
"Well, well. Where'd this pretty thing come from? Crying so sweetly. Come play with me."
A drunken man dragged me into the restroom, reeking of alcohol, his arm clamping around my waist.
"Let me go!" My voice shook with fear, but my cries were swallowed by the distant laughter in the corridor.
"Sebastian... Sebastian, help me!"
Even now—even now, my instinct was to call for him.
I saw his broad back pause for half a second. But then he simply smiled and continued teasing the child.
"Help me... please..." My voice cracked, drowning in desperation.
A filthy hand clamped over my mouth.
Not far away, Sabrina glanced back at me.
She smiled. Then turned away, ignoring me completely as she walked off with Sebastian.
I struggled wildly—digging my nails into the drunkard's skin, kicking, thrashing—but he was too strong.
"That's what you get for offending someone," he slurred, fingers reaching for my skirt.
I could smell the nauseating alcohol against my collarbone.
Just as I prepared to fight to the death...
"Get your hands off her! Do you know where you are?!"
A cold, furious voice cut through the air.
The next second, the man was yanked away from me and slammed against the wall.
A tall man stood before me—sharp features, pale skin like porcelain, eyes blazing with anger. "Are you alright?"
My legs gave out.
I collapsed to the floor, breath shaking uncontrollably as tears streamed down my face.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came. I could only tremble and shake my head.
He didn't ask more.
He simply removed his coat, placed it underneath me, and handed me a clean handkerchief.
"The lounge is next door. I'll help you there."
He nearly carried me inside.
After the door closed, he didn't stay.
He left me alone—giving me space to breathe.
I buried my face in the handkerchief he left behind, and sobbed until my chest hurt.
Not only did Sebastian have a new family... He could be so gentle with someone else's child.
If Jacob had lived, would he also have wished... to be held high like that?
The thought crushed me. My chest ached until I could barely breathe.
And remembering what the drunkard said, I realized—Sabrina ignoring me wasn't an accident.
She arranged this. She wanted to ruin me.
Just then, my phone vibrated, and a message from the assistant flashed on the screen.
[Miss, the abortion surgery has been scheduled. You can come anytime.]
My fingers trembled around the device.
I touched my stomach—there was still a life inside me. But I could no longer carry anything tied to Sebastian.
I stood up, wiped my tears, and clenched the handkerchief tightly.
No more looking back.
I left the hall, called a car, and went straight to the hospital.
Outside the operating room, the doctor confirmed again. "After this procedure, your body... may not be able to conceive again. You must be absolutely sure."
I closed my eyes.
My voice was soft—but firm. "I won't regret it."
