Chapter 4

On the day of the Worth family's annual banquet, I put on the dark green velvet long dress Silas had given me.

When I stepped into the banquet hall holding his arm, everyone's gaze in the room bypassed me entirely, landing on Maren and Jasper behind us.

Maren wore an off-white dress, looking frail and gentle, while Jasper wore a sophisticated little suit, tightly holding her hand.

Several elders immediately stepped forward, familiarly picking up the boy to praise him, "This must be Silas's child, he looks identical to you when you were little."

Silas smiled gently, raising a hand to rub Jasper's head, "Say hello to Grandpa and Grandma quickly."

Jasper spoke timidly, and the elders surrounded the mother and son with warm inquiries.

No one introduced me as Silas's soon-to-be-wed fiancé; I was like a stranger abruptly intruding into a feast.

When taking our seats, Maren occupied the right-hand seat that originally belonged to me, while Jasper sat on Silas's left hand, the two of them separated by the child, looking entirely like a true family.

I was arranged at the very end of the long table, surrounded only by distant relatives I wasn't familiar with, completely ignored throughout the meal.

During the meal, an aunt suddenly remembered me, shouting across the entire dining table, "Elaine, I heard you've been preparing for pregnancy for a long time, when will there be good news?"

Everyone's gaze instantly focused on me, and just as I was about to speak, Silas interrupted ahead of time.

His tone was relaxed and casual, "Pregnancy preparation is temporarily on hold, recently we need to prioritize taking care of Jasper's health, having a child is not urgent."

"Indeed, the child's recovery is most important." The aunt chimed in repeatedly.

Maren raised her eyes to look at Silas, her eyes brimming with gratitude, as she gently held his arm and spoke softly, "Thank you for your hard work Silas, implicating you and Elaine in delaying your plans."

Silas patted the back of her hand without a trace of refutation.

Holding the icy metal fork, my heart was a barren wasteland.

He knew everything clearly, yet had never asked me.

Midway, I went to the restroom, and from the corridor corner came the sound of Silas and his uncle talking.

"It's not quite right for you to keep dragging Elaine along like this, she's been with you for a full eight years."

Silas's confident laughter clearly reached my ears, "Rest assured, Elaine loves me deeply, with so many years of affection, she will never truly leave. Once Jasper completely recovers, I'll coax her properly."

It turned out my long-standing tolerance and love made him confident that I would always compromise and give way.

When the banquet concluded and we returned to the lakeside villa, the night was deep, and Silas simply washed up before heading to the guest room to accompany Jasper.

I walked alone into the parent-child garden I had built with my own hands; the moonlight fell on the vacant swing, sandbox, and baby ornaments—all things I had spent half a year of painstaking effort preparing for my future child.

I walked into the tool shed, pulled out a hammer, and smashed all the maternal and infant items I had crafted with my own hands one by one.

The wooden rattles, carved seedling flower stands, and baby wind chimes were utterly shattered, wood chips covering the floor.

Returning to the living room, I laid out the confirmation documents for cancelling all pregnancy preparation treatments flat on the coffee table, quietly waiting for Silas.

A long time later, he emerged from the guest room, glanced at the documents on the table, picked one up casually, and frowned impatiently, "Just a family banquet casual chat, did you really have to throw a tantrum and cancel all pregnancy prep conditioning? You're being completely unreasonable."

He tossed the documents back onto the table, turning to head back to the guest room, "Jasper just fell asleep, I have to watch him, we'll talk about our conflict tomorrow."

I was the only one left in the living room when suddenly my phone lit up in the dark, popping up an emergency message from my private health consultant, attached with a risk test report screenshot.

The report stated in black and white: Autologous stem cell reserves completely exhausted, congenital organ defects without emergency rescue guarantee, risk of death from postpartum hemorrhage in future natural pregnancies exceeding 80%.

Staring fixedly at the numbers, my whole body trembled uncontrollably.

What he took away was not just biological agents stored for years, but my entire hope of having a child and living safely.

At that exact moment, the phone Silas had left behind on the sofa suddenly lit up, popping up a new message from Maren that pierced straight into my eyes: Once we mother and son are completely recovered, you'll break off your engagement with her, won't you?