Chapter 1

I gripped the prenatal health checkup report, my fingertips pressing deep creases into the paper's edge.

For a full eight years, I had gone to the private biological storage bank on schedule every year to extract autologous stem cells.

My private doctor had repeatedly warned me that my congenital organ development was weak, and once I suffered severe postpartum hemorrhage or organ damage during pregnancy, the whole world had only these exclusive stem cells to save my life, with a matching probability of less than one in ten thousand.

Today was supposed to be the day Silas and I shared our good news, but an emergency phone call halfway through shattered all my expectations.

Clara, the biological bank's consultant, said with a face full of difficulty, telling me that all stored stem cells had been completely retrieved, and the authorized signatory was my fiancé of eight years and soon-to-be husband, Silas Worth.

The moment I pushed open the door, the scene in the living room burned my eyes.

Maren was sitting on my custom-made wicker prenatal lounge chair, clutching her chest and coughing lightly, looking frail and helpless.

Seven-year-old Jasper was curled up in Silas's arms, toying with the wooden rattle I had carved with my own hands, its edges already scratched by the boy.

Silas lowered his head and gently patted the boy's back, his eyes full of tender pity.

Hearing the door open, Maren hurried to stand up, awkwardly pulling around her the knit shawl of mine that I kept in the guest bedroom.

She whispered in explanation, "Elaine, don't overthink it. Jasper's chronic organ condition suddenly worsened, and I was truly at my wit's end, which is why I came to trouble Silas."

Silas raised his eyes to look at her, without a shred of guilt, and instead spoke first, his tone as flat as if he were discussing an insignificant triviality.

"You already got Clara's call? Jasper can't do without stem cells to repair his organs right now, and he's so young, I can't just stand by and watch him fail to pull through."

I slowly unfolded the checkup report in my hand. "The doctor said pregnancy would increase the burden on my organs. Without stored stem cells, once a hemorrhage happens during delivery, my probability of surviving is extremely low."

"Those stem cells were saved by me bit by bit over eight years. You didn't even ask a single question before using them."

"You look perfectly healthy right now, why must you fuss and haggle over this matter?" Silas frowned, his words carrying an imperceptible reprimand.

"Maren gave birth to Jasper alone back then, suffering all kinds of gossip from outsiders, and I already felt a sense of owing them mother and son in my heart. Saving lives comes first, you can't be so selfish."

Selfish.

These two words landed lightly by my ear, pressing so heavily that my chest felt stuffy.

The person who actively urged her to store stem cells eight years ago and gave endless instructions to protect her body was Silas.

And now, for the sake of his first love's child, the one who wantonly snatched away her life-saving trump card and in turn accused her of lacking understanding was the exact same person.

Jasper was completely oblivious to the deadlock between the adults, holding up the rattle as he looked at Silas and spoke in a soft, sweet voice, "Daddy, this little bell is so pretty, can you give it to me?"

Maren instantly turned pale, hurriedly pulling the boy back and apologizing repeatedly, "The child is just babbling randomly, please don't take it to heart."

Yet Silas did not correct the form of address, simply raising a hand to rub Jasper's soft hair, tacitly allowing this intimacy.

He turned his head to look at me, his tone softening a fraction, yet still without a single ounce of concession.

"I know you feel aggrieved inside, but the mother and son have nowhere to stay for the time being. I plan to have them move into the villa for two to three months so it's convenient for me to look after Jasper at any time."

"That guest room downstairs originally planned for our baby happens to be empty."

I subconsciously glanced toward the French windows outside, at that lakeside parent-child garden I had spent countless amounts of painstaking effort to build, where the swing, small sandbox, and climbing frame were all completed.

This place should have been filled with the laughter belonging to her child.

Yet now, it was to be handed over to someone else.

I gripped the checkup report tightly, my throat feeling dry and blocked, even the strength to argue gradually fading away.

Silas reached out to hold my hand, trying to smooth things over. "Stop throwing a temper tantrum. Once Jasper's condition stabilizes, everything will go back to the way it was."

I slightly turned aside to dodge him, offering no response.

Outside the window, the evening breeze brushed across the treetops, while the living room echoed with Jasper's brisk laughter, interspersed with Maren's soft, gentle pacification.

The wedding home that belonged to Silas and me had quietly changed its appearance.

He casually put away the yellowed old group photo handed over by Maren, and added casually, "Next week I'll arrange for the mother and son to move in and live here permanently."