Chapter 2 · The Silent Cracks Of Marriage

Chapter 2

Bella once said she'd give me the baby, but now she had decided to raise it herself.

I forced a smile. "Bella, I didn't expect you to be so considerate of me."

Bella's eyes grew misty. "I know Mr. Farrell has always wanted a child. I just wanted to help you fulfill that wish."

Rosalie fixed her gaze on Bella and tossed the documents onto the bed in front of her.

"Here are the consequences for messing with the gene bank without permission," I said coldly.

"Come on, you're a scientist. Don't tell me you didn't know this was against the law," I said.

Bella's face went pale, her lips trembling.

Suddenly, the baby let out a loud wail.

Darryl immediately gathered the baby in his arms, murmuring softly to comfort him.

It hit me all of a sudden.

No matter who was right or wrong, this kid would always be the thing between us.

I turned to leave, but Darryl grabbed my sleeve, stopping me.

"Rosalie! Thanks for not pressing charges, but I need to ask you something else," Darryl said.

"Bella just had the baby, and she's still recovering. The doctor says she needs more rest. The place at Arnward Manor gets great sunlight and has everything she needs... After she's discharged, could she stay there for a while? I can help take care of her," Darryl explained.

My throat tightened, my words clipped as I forced them out. "You want her to live in our home?"

"She doesn't have anyone else," Darryl replied.

Darryl's gaze was as clear and steady as always. "Rosalie, she just needs someone to be there for her."

I stared at Darryl, my throat tightening so much it felt like I could barely breathe.

"What about me?" I murmured.

"You're bringing her home, but what about me? Am I supposed to live under the same roof with her?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"If you really don't feel comfortable... maybe you could stay at Skindal Estate for a while. It's farther from the research center, and it's quiet," Darryl suggested gently.

So that was how it was. I gave a wry smile and turned away.

I met Darryl ten years ago at a project proposal meeting.

I'd just come back to the country, and he was filling in for the professor, sitting in the very last row. His suit was immaculate, even his cuffs were buttoned up, not a wrinkle out of place.

Most people asked the usual polite questions, but Darryl was the only one who went straight for the weakest link in my argument.

"I saw your last article in Interdisciplinary Review. You've got skills," he said.

Right then, I got this weird feeling. He wasn't trying to embarrass me, just giving me a nudge so I wouldn't get trapped by my own habits.

After that, the rest was history.

We teamed up for projects, ran the numbers, and pulled all-nighters grinding out our grant proposals.

He was always the one who had my back, quietly patching up every gap I left behind.

I fell for him after we had just a simple meal together.

That day, we kept bickering over our paper. He suddenly went quiet for ages, then took me to this tiny shop by the school's back gate.

We sat at a cramped little table, neither of us really touching our food.

He picked the chili peppers out of my bowl and used a napkin to dab the soup off my sleeve.

He said, "Rosalie, your sharpness is a good thing. But not every fight is worth winning. Save your strength for what really counts."

I just looked at him, and right then, it hit me that I was definitely going to marry this man.

I just couldn't make sense of where it all went wrong.

If it really came down to the baby, then he was the one who should feel guilty.

It was right after we got married, and we were abroad for an academic conference when something went horribly wrong.

Instinctively, I jumped in front of him. The moment the knife struck, a burning pain exploded in my gut, like I was being ripped apart.

He carried me into the hospital, and outside the ER, he collapsed to his knees, pounding his chest and crying so hard he could barely breathe.

That night, he was shaking all over, clutching my hand again and again.

"Rosalie, I'm so sorry. I swear, you're the only treasure I'll ever need in this life," he said, his voice breaking with emotion.

He meant every word, and watching him cry like that, it was impossible not to feel for him.

After that, I never brought up the topic of kids again.

But in the end, it was Bella who had his child.

I looked down, my fingers trembling as I typed out a message on my phone: [Darryl, I want a divorce.]

Less than half an hour later, the doorbell rang.

Darryl walked in, looking like he'd come straight from outside, a little out of breath. "Rosalie, don't do anything rash."

Rosalie didn't turn around. She just set her phone back on the coffee table. "This isn't rash. It's just me finally waking up."

Darryl walked over and sat down in the armchair across from me, not saying a word for a long time.

"She needs some time to recover. We agreed that in a month, I'll give her some money and help her move overseas. The baby stays here with us, and she won't be coming back," Darryl said.

I just laughed, but there was no joy in it.

Chapter 2

Bella once said she'd give me the baby, but now she had decided to raise it herself.

I forced a smile. "Bella, I didn't expect you to be so considerate of me."

Bella's eyes grew misty. "I know Mr. Farrell has always wanted a child. I just wanted to help you fulfill that wish."

Rosalie fixed her gaze on Bella and tossed the documents onto the bed in front of her.

"Here are the consequences for messing with the gene bank without permission," I said coldly.

"Come on, you're a scientist. Don't tell me you didn't know this was against the law," I said.

Bella's face went pale, her lips trembling.

Suddenly, the baby let out a loud wail.

Darryl immediately gathered the baby in his arms, murmuring softly to comfort him.

It hit me all of a sudden.

No matter who was right or wrong, this kid would always be the thing between us.

I turned to leave, but Darryl grabbed my sleeve, stopping me.

"Rosalie! Thanks for not pressing charges, but I need to ask you something else," Darryl said.

My throat tightened, my words clipped as I forced them out. "You want her to live in our home?"

"She doesn't have anyone else," Darryl replied.

Darryl's gaze was as clear and steady as always. "Rosalie, she just needs someone to be there for her."

I stared at Darryl, my throat tightening so much it felt like I could barely breathe.

"What about me?" I murmured.

"You're bringing her home, but what about me? Am I supposed to live under the same roof with her?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"If you really don't feel comfortable... maybe you could stay at Skindal Estate for a while. It's farther from the research center, and it's quiet," Darryl suggested gently.

So that was how it was. I gave a wry smile and turned away.

I met Darryl ten years ago at a project proposal meeting.

I'd just come back to the country, and he was filling in for the professor, sitting in the very last row. His suit was immaculate, even his cuffs were buttoned up, not a wrinkle out of place.

Most people asked the usual polite questions, but Darryl was the only one who went straight for the weakest link in my argument.

"I saw your last article in Interdisciplinary Review. You've got skills," he said.

Right then, I got this weird feeling. He wasn't trying to embarrass me, just giving me a nudge so I wouldn't get trapped by my own habits.

After that, the rest was history.

We teamed up for projects, ran the numbers, and pulled all-nighters grinding out our grant proposals.

He was always the one who had my back, quietly patching up every gap I left behind.

I fell for him after we had just a simple meal together.

That day, we kept bickering over our paper. He suddenly went quiet for ages, then took me to this tiny shop by the school's back gate.

We sat at a cramped little table, neither of us really touching our food.

He picked the chili peppers out of my bowl and used a napkin to dab the soup off my sleeve.

He said, "Rosalie, your sharpness is a good thing. But not every fight is worth winning. Save your strength for what really counts."

I just looked at him, and right then, it hit me that I was definitely going to marry this man.

I just couldn't make sense of where it all went wrong.

If it really came down to the baby, then he was the one who should feel guilty.

It was right after we got married, and we were abroad for an academic conference when something went horribly wrong.

Instinctively, I jumped in front of him. The moment the knife struck, a burning pain exploded in my gut, like I was being ripped apart.

He carried me into the hospital, and outside the ER, he collapsed to his knees, pounding his chest and crying so hard he could barely breathe.

That night, he was shaking all over, clutching my hand again and again.

"Rosalie, I'm so sorry. I swear, you're the only treasure I'll ever need in this life," he said, his voice breaking with emotion.

He meant every word, and watching him cry like that, it was impossible not to feel for him.

After that, I never brought up the topic of kids again.

But in the end, it was Bella who had his child.

I looked down, my fingers trembling as I typed out a message on my phone: [Darryl, I want a divorce.]

Less than half an hour later, the doorbell rang.

Darryl walked in, looking like he'd come straight from outside, a little out of breath. "Rosalie, don't do anything rash."

Rosalie didn't turn around. She just set her phone back on the coffee table. "This isn't rash. It's just me finally waking up."

Darryl walked over and sat down in the armchair across from me, not saying a word for a long time.

"She needs some time to recover. We agreed that in a month, I'll give her some money and help her move overseas. The baby stays here with us, and she won't be coming back," Darryl said.

I just laughed, but there was no joy in it.