Chapter 2
I stared at that photo for five whole minutes.
The airport terminal exit.
Daniel stood there, car keys in hand.
Vanessa leaned into him, one hand resting on her stomach.
They were close.
Too close for just a boss and his subordinate.
Close enough to flash me back to all the details from the past six months—the ones I had forced myself to ignore.
"It's just work."
That was Daniel's favorite excuse.
Vanessa attending the gala was work.
Vanessa traveling with him was work.
Vanessa texting him at midnight was work.
I used to believe that trust in a marriage should be built on understanding, so every time I doubted him, I blamed myself first.
Was I being too sensitive?
Was I not spending enough time with him?
Had I become boring since becoming a wife?
But now, sitting in this empty office, looking at the warning from my future daughter, I asked myself seriously for the first time:
Emily Carter, just how much have you given up for this man?
The answer terrified me.
I didn't confront Daniel right away.
Seventeen years of marriage had taught me that anger only exposes your weaknesses.
If the photo was real, and if future Sophie was right, then a fight was the last thing I needed.
I needed the truth.
I needed to know exactly how Daniel planned to ruin my life.
I saved the photo, then poured myself a glass of water.
Only when my fingers touched the glass did I realize my hands were shaking.
I told myself to calm down.
The old Emily would have cried, rushed to the airport, and demanded to know why he betrayed her.
The current Emily needed to protect herself first.
I opened my laptop and checked for any trace left by that mysterious email.
Nothing.
No sent records. No attachments. No trackable digital footprint whatsoever.
If the photo hadn't been saved on my phone, I would have thought I was hallucinating.
But the photo was real.
And Vanessa's pregnancy was real.
I opened my contacts and lingered on Daniel's name.
For seventeen years, I could have dialed this number with my eyes closed.
But today, for the first time, the name felt completely foreign.
The next morning, I went home as usual.
I didn't confront Daniel.
I didn't even show a hint of suspicion.
Because I needed to confirm one thing: was he already preparing to leave me?
Sure enough.
At the breakfast table, Daniel brought up a topic I hadn't expected.
"Emily, let's talk tonight."
He sipped his coffee, his eyes fixed on his tablet.
His tone was no different from how he discussed a board meeting.
"Things are shifting at the company, and I think we need to restructure our future plans."
I sliced a piece of toast. "What kind of shifts?"
Daniel set his coffee cup down. "The company is gearing up for a major adjustment. That includes rearranging our family assets."
Hearing those words, my hand froze.
Rearranging assets.
The phrase mirrored future Sophie’s warning perfectly.
She had said: Do not sign that divorce agreement.
I looked at Daniel. "Why bring this up all of a sudden?"
Daniel rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Emily, you know the position I'm in now. I can't just think about personal matters anymore."
He spoke with total seriousness. "The company's growth requires stability."
I gave a faint smile. "And?"
Daniel finally looked at me. "We need to make some legal adjustments."
My heart sank.
Legal adjustments.
That wasn't how a husband spoke to his wife.
That was the language of a businessman dealing with a partner.
Looking at the man who had been by my side for twenty years, I realized for the first time that he had become accustomed to negotiating with me.
"Daniel, what exactly do you want me to sign?"
He didn't answer right away.
The pause told me everything.
"Just some documents. It won't affect you."
I lowered my head and took a sip of water. "If it won't affect me, why do you need my signature?"
Daniel frowned. "Emily, why do you always take things so seriously?"
Those words brought back the past.
Every time I noticed a red flag, he would tell me: You're overthinking.
Every time I expressed discomfort, he would say: You're just tired.
Slowly, I had begun to doubt my own judgment.
But now, I was done doubting.
That evening, Daniel didn't come home for dinner.
He said an emergency meeting had come up at the office.
In the past, I would have waited up for him.
Tonight, I opened the safe at home.
Inside were our important documents—property deeds, investment agreements, and corporate share certificates.
I had organized and kept most of these things for Daniel over the years because he hated dealing with details.
In the early days of his startup, when the cash flow dried up, I was the one who contacted lawyers and restructured the contracts.
Right before the IPO, I was the one who caught a hidden risk clause, saving the company tens of millions.
Daniel had later stood before the media and said, "My wife is the biggest supporter of my life."
Everyone thought it was romantic.
Only I knew the truth behind that statement: seventeen years of unpaid labor.
I flipped through the files.
Then I stopped.
An equity transfer agreement sat at the very bottom.
The date was from three months ago.
I picked it up and examined it closely.
Right next to my name was an authorization change.
And the beneficiary was... Daniel's private trust.
I kept reading.
There was also a marital property plan attached.
If we divorced, I would forfeit a massive portion of the company's earnings.
The reasoning stated: "Emily Carter has not participated in company operations long-term."
Looking at that sentence, I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.
Not participated in company operations?
Without me, his company would have gone bankrupt in its fifth year.
Yet in these legal documents, I was merely a non-contributing dependent.
I finally understood why future Sophie said: "The day you signed that divorce agreement was also the day you lost everything."
Daniel hadn't betrayed me on a whim.
He had been planning this for a very long time.
It was 1:00 AM.
I was still sitting in the study.
My phone suddenly lit up.
It was a text from Daniel.
Emily, the lawyer will be at the house tomorrow morning at 10:00. Let's get this sorted out.
I stared at the text.
No explanation. No comfort. He hadn't even asked if I was willing.
He had already arranged it.
Just like scheduling a business meeting.
As I was about to put my phone down, another message popped up from the unknown number.
The same number. Future Sophie.
Just one sentence.
"Mom, you should have found the first piece of evidence by now."
My breath caught.
Immediately, a second message appeared.
"But you still don't know that what Dad really wants to take from you isn't money at all."
I stared at the screen, my finger hovering in the air.
A few seconds later, a third message flashed.
It was a photo.
In the photo was a younger version of me.
Twenty-three years old.
Freshly barred as a lawyer.
Smiling with absolute, radiant confidence.
On the back of the photo, a line was written:
"Mom, you forgot who you used to be."
I stared at those words as a realization crystallized in my mind.
Daniel wanted to destroy my marriage.
He wanted to take my assets.
But why did future Sophie say that what he really wanted had nothing to do with money?
What else was he hiding?