Simon had always longed for a child, yet after ten years of marriage, I had never once gotten pregnant.
Now, the sudden news of my pregnancy caught him completely off guard.
His expression flickered—part surprise, part hesitation.
“You're pregnant... then you...”
Before he could finish, Jasmine appeared in the doorway.
“Simon... so many people online are cursing me. I can't take it anymore. You and I—we're the real couple...”
Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her pitiful voice shattered his thoughts.
Simon immediately pulled her into his arms, murmuring comfort.
He took a deep breath—almost as if trying to convince me, but more like he was convincing himself.
“Reina, Jasmine is more fragile than you and she needs my protection more. She's pregnant with my child, and her morning sickness has been unbearable lately. You... you've survived with crippled legs—prison will be hard, but you'll get through it...”
A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Simon, you're really that cruel to me? I'm also carrying your child, yet you'd still send me to prison?”
He turned his head away, unable to meet the mockery in my eyes.
“When you get out, I promise I'll take you back. I'll raise your child. Neither of you will want for anything.”
His words were like ice. I thought I'd cry, but instead, I only looked at him with calmness so foreign it startled even me.
“Fine,” I said evenly. “I'll do as you ask. I'll say it was me who slandered Jasmine, that I lost my mind, that I coveted a place that was never mine.”
Relief softened his tense expression.
“At least you've come to your senses. This is best for everyone—”
“But,” I cut him off, “you'll sign a new divorce agreement.”
“A fair one.” My eyes locked on him.
“Sign it, and I'll confess to everything at the press conference. If you don't... I'll tell the world we were married, and I'll ruin Jasmine completely.”
His face darkened, gaze fixed on me.
“...Fine.”
He finally caved, pulling out his phone. “Secretary Donald, draft a new divorce agreement immediately. Divide the marital assets according to the law.”
The wait was suffocatingly silent.
When Secretary Donald rushed in with the document, Simon signed without hesitation.
To him, this small price was worth it—so long as he got my public confession.
I took the papers, the cold pen steady in my hand, and signed my name with equal resolve.
Seeing the signatures, he exhaled in relief.
“I'll have the press conference arranged. Wait here.”
With Jasmine in his arms, he left, murmuring reassurances.
“Jasmine, don't worry about the online comments. I've taken care of everything...”
His voice faded with his retreating figure.
I wheeled myself to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Just moments ago, my brother had replied—he was outside, waiting to take me away.
Sure enough, there it was: the familiar car parked quietly below.
The door opened, and Lucian's figure appeared.
I pulled out the bedsheet rope I'd prepared long ago and climbed down from the second floor.
“Reina!”
The moment my feet touched the ground, my brother hurried forward to help me.
I gently pushed his hand away, stood on my own, and walked steadily into the car.
“Let's go home, Brother.”
“Mm!” He nodded firmly.
The car rolled away, leaving behind the place I had called home for ten years.
'Simon, we will never meet again.'
—
An hour later, Simon pushed Reina's bedroom door.
“Tired as I am, I've arranged the press conference. Come with me—”
He stopped mid-sentence as he realized the room was empty.
The wheelchair sat motionless by the window. The bed was neatly made, cold, and untouched.
“...Reina?” His voice rose, searching every corner.
“Reina!”
The shout ripped from his throat, a wave of panic crashing over him.
He immediately called Secretary Donald.
“Did you find her? Where did she go?”
“Mr. Alvaro, as you instructed, we couldn't track Madam's movements. Her whereabouts are... unknown.”
Unknown?
Simon stood frozen in the empty room, the phone limp in his hand.
His eyes fell on the abandoned wheelchair, and for the first time, he felt that something precious had slipped away from him.
