"No." My voice was hoarse, but unwavering.
"This divorce agreement is unfair to me. I won't sign a single word of it."
I slammed the document on the floor.
"Reina!" Simon's voice rose in anger at my defiance.
He suddenly gripped my wrist. Pain shot through me, forcing a sharp gasp from my lips.
"Reina, your legs are crippled—you'll never stand again. Who else would want you besides me? If you can't figure that out, then just stay at home!"
Simon ordered the housekeeper to keep me under strict watch, forbidding me from stepping outside—not until the court summoned me.
He kept trying to persuade me to sign, but I locked myself away in my room, ignoring him. In secret, I trained my legs every day, hoping to stand again.
When I wheeled myself to the dining table one day, the housekeeper set before me a small bowl of cold rice and a plate of wilted, spoiled greens.
"Madam... please just make do," she whispered.
These past two days, Jasmine had been strutting around like the mistress of the house, ordering the staff to serve me only leftovers.
I opened my mouth to speak—but then Simon returned.
His gaze swept over the pitiful food in front of me, then shifted back to Jasmine.
"Jasmine, didn't I tell you you're no longer her assistant? You don't need to bother with her."
He sat down beside her, displeased, and placed a piece of fish into her mouth.
"You're pregnant now. You need proper nutrition. I bought you plenty of supplements—later I'll have the housekeeper prepare them for you."
I lowered my eyes, refusing to look at the glaring contrast before me, though the ache in my chest couldn't be hidden.
Jasmine's eyes were filled with tears.
"Simon, you're so good to me... the moment you come home, you think of me first..."
To show her gratitude, she kissed him hard on the cheek, drawing a soft chuckle from him.
"You're the most important person in this house now. If I don't think of you, who else would I think of?"
Silently, I wheeled myself back to my cold, lonely room.
But without food... I could endure it—but the baby in my belly could not.
In the middle of the night, I quietly turned the wheels and opened my door. Guided by memory, I made my way to the fridge. Inside, food was neatly stacked and plentiful.
Bitterness stung my heart.
There was plenty to eat in this house. Simon had seen the scraps I was given—yet he was this cruel.
I blinked back tears and stuffed food into my mouth.
Suddenly, a sharp click sounded—the kitchen light flicked on.
Simon stood there in a robe, frowning at the sight of me eating in desperation.
"You... were you really that hungry?"
He stepped closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over me.
"Two days, and you already look thinner," he murmured, almost hesitant—there was a trace of concern in his tone, perhaps without even realizing it himself.
I didn't answer and only kept eating.
"Simon?"
The soft, sugary voice came from the doorway. Jasmine appeared, wearing one of his oversized dress shirts that hung loosely on her frame.
When she saw him standing close to me, her pupils shrank, and jealousy flared hot in her eyes.
"Simon, I had a nightmare and couldn't sleep... come back to bed with me..."
She walked up to him, deliberately brushing her body against his, tilting her head up to demand a kiss.
His body stiffened, his eyes flicking toward my pale face—his Adam's apple bobbed—but Jasmine's touch pulled his attention away.
"Later," he soothed her softly. "There's someone else here."
Her eyes glistened with tears. "Are you... still caring about her? You told me you only love me."
At her words, panic flickered across his face. He kissed her quickly. "Don't talk nonsense. Of course, I only love you—let her watch if she wants."
Under the harsh kitchen light, they kissed without restraint—right in front of me.
Watching the man I had loved for ten years hold another woman so tenderly... my heart clenched until I thought it would stop beating.
I gripped the armrests of my wheelchair hard, taking in a deep breath.
'It's fine. Just one more day. My brother will be here tomorrow.' I comforted myself. 'I won't go to prison for Jasmine. And I don't want him anymore.'
—
On the third morning, just as I was about to start my exercises, my door was thrown open with force.
A phone landed in front of me, followed by Simon's furious roar. "Did you do this?!"
"You told people online that Jasmine was actually your assistant—and that she's a homewrecker? Are you trying to ruin her?!"
His words stunned me.
"I... didn't do that—"
But he wouldn't listen. He came closer, anger written all over his face.
"Do you know she cried for an hour over those comments? She was so upset she couldn't eat! You're going to go online and admit it's not true—and you're going to apologize to her!"
I stared at him in disbelief from my wheelchair. "Isn't it the truth? How is this my fault?"
I couldn't understand. I couldn't understand why he treated Jasmine this way.
My question only enraged him further.
"You still won't admit it?!"
His temper exploded. Forgetting I was in a wheelchair, he shoved me hard. My body—and the chair—slammed into the wall.
Something slipped from my pocket and fell to the floor.
He froze, then bent to pick it up.
"A pregnancy report?!" His voice was sharp with shock.
"Reina... you're pregnant?!"
