Chapter 1

Four months into my pregnancy, I asked my husband, Charles, to pick up my prenatal checkup results from the hospital.

But instead, he came back with another woman's report.

I stared at the name "Claire Linwood" on the report, and a sharp pain hit my stomach.

"Don't overthink it," Charles said softly. "Claire lost her husband, and she's been struggling through her pregnancy. I just did her a favor and picked up her report."

He sighed, worry etched on his face.

"She's always been delicate, and now that she's pregnant, she's practically sick all the time," he added.

I clenched the report in my hand, forcing a bitter smile. "So, what about my prenatal checkup results?"

Charles's face stiffened for a moment, then he reached out and gently took my hand, trying to comfort me.

"I'm sorry, I forgot. I'll go get it right now," he said.

I took a deep breath and replied, my voice distant, "No need."

I didn't need the checkup results anymore. I didn't want the baby.

And I didn't want him, either.

*****

Charles's brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but his phone rang.

It was Claire.

Her soft, gentle voice came through the phone.

"Charlie, maybe I should go get the report myself. I don't want Eve to get the wrong idea."

Charles shot me a quick look, then covered the phone and stepped out onto the balcony to keep talking.

His voice floated in on the breeze, soft and tender as he soothed Claire.

"You're not feeling well, so don't overdo it. I've already got your report, and I'll drop it off soon," he said gently.

"Don't worry, Evelyn isn't the kind to get upset. She's always so sweet," he added.

Charles hung up and came back inside.

"Evelyn, you should get some rest. I'll take Claire's report over to her," he said.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he casually reached for my hand, trying to give me a goodbye kiss.

It was as if the whole mess with the report was barely worth mentioning, forgotten in the time it took to make a phone call.

I turned my head away, dodging his kiss.

Charles paused for a moment, then, with that familiar doting look, reached out and ruffled my hair.

"Hey, no getting upset. You're pregnant, remember? I'll let you get away with it this time, but next time, no dodging my kiss," he teased.

Charles's phone buzzed with a message from Claire. He quickly grabbed his coat and headed to the entryway to put on his shoes.

"I don't know when I'll be back, so don't wait up for me," he said.

He looked me up and down, sounding a bit exasperated.

"Just go pick up your report yourself. It'll give you a chance to get some exercise. You've packed on some pounds these past four months. Better be careful, you don't want any trouble when it's time to deliver," he said.

The door clicked shut behind him. I stared blankly at the doorway, standing there until my legs went numb, then finally sank onto the couch.

Claire had lost her husband, and the grief left her so frail she could hardly get out of bed.

After that, Charles moved her into the Stone family estate, and day in, day out, he went over to take care of her.

"Her morning sickness is awful. She throws up everything except the food I make. I just drop by every night to cook for her," Charles said.

He thought it was totally fine to leave his pregnant wife at home and cook for another woman.

He even accompanied Claire to her prenatal checkups and delivered her report late at night, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

All the tenderness and care he once showered on me. Now it was all reserved for Claire.

Since Claire entered his life, he never bothered to go with me to the hospital for my checkups.

If I so much as showed a hint of unhappiness, suddenly I was the unreasonable one, not the 'good girl' he wanted me to be.

My phone buzzed with a message.

The contact was saved as Henry Woods.

Henry was my childhood friend, the one I'd grown up with.

He was also the guy my mom wanted me to marry, but I kicked up a storm and pleaded with her to break off the engagement, all so I could marry Charles.

He sent me a screenshot of Claire's social media post.

In the photo, a broad, masculine hand was holding a prenatal report.

The caption read: "Mommy can't wait for you to arrive."

I recognized that hand instantly. It was Charles's.