Chapter 1

Ten years into our marriage, Grayson Fleming told me calmly that he wanted a divorce.

Once, I had been the center of his world; now, in his eyes, I was nothing more than a worn-down housewife.

Everyone knew he had once adored me beyond measure.

But during a routine prenatal checkup, I spotted him escorting his elegant, striking secretary to her appointment at the hospital.

The sight stopped me cold.

He looked momentarily awkward, but there was no remorse in his eyes, no hint of unease.

Then, he asked me for a divorce.

"Raven, I've got a business dinner tonight. I won't be home," Grayson's voice sounded distant over the phone.

The clacking of his keyboard made it clear his mind was elsewhere.

I couldn't help but complain, "Another dinner? That's the third one this week. I even learned how to make that beef bourguignon you love..."

"We're in the middle of a big project. I can't help it," his tone turned cold. "Just have the housekeeper make something for you. I'll try to get back early."

The call ended, and I stood in the spacious, bright kitchen, staring at the simmering pot on the stove. A wave of emptiness washed over me.

In this four-thousand-square-foot mansion, it was just me and the housekeeper during the day. When I quit my job, Grayson had promised, "I'll provide for you."

He kept his promise. But I just felt like I didn't belong anywhere.

The doorbell rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. I opened the door to find a delivery guy holding a small, elegant box.

"Mrs. Fleming, your package," he said.

Inside was a diamond necklace, with a card that read: [To make up for missing tonight. Love, Grayson.]

I smiled bitterly and put the necklace back in the box. Over the past six months, these "make-up gifts" had filled my jewelry box.

Every time he worked late, traveled, or had a business dinner, he'd send me something expensive. At first, I was touched. Now, it just felt like a cruel joke.

Late that night, I was jolted awake by the sound of the door opening.

Grayson slipped quietly into the bedroom, carrying the faint scent of alcohol and perfume.

"You're back?" I mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, go to sleep," he said, quickly washing up before lying down with his back to me. Soon, his breathing became steady as he drifted off.

I stared at his broad back, and suddenly my mind wandered back to when he was just starting his business.

Back then, we lived in a tiny apartment. Every time he came home late, he'd wake me up with a kiss, unable to wait to share his wins or losses from the day.

Now, we slept on a bed ten feet wide, but it felt like there was an invisible wall between us.

Once, this was the happiness I dreamed of sharing with Grayson.

For five quiet years, our days passed in this uneventful routine, yet for some reason, I couldn't help but feel a vague sense of dissatisfaction.

It felt as if something inside me was being buried.

At breakfast the next morning, I finally found the courage to speak up. "Grayson, I want to go back to work."

He paused, his tablet hovering in mid-air as he scrolled through financial news. "What's wrong? Are we short on money?"

"It's not about the money," I took a deep breath. "I just feel like I need to do something meaningful."

Grayson put down his tablet, his brow furrowing slightly. "Being Mrs. Fleming isn't meaningful? Do you know how many people envy you?"

"But that's not who I am!" My voice rose without me meaning to.

I added, "I can't just shop, get spa treatments, and wait for you to come home all day! I have skills. I have dreams..."

"Then have a baby," he interrupted, his tone as casual as if we were discussing the weather.

He continued, "You've always wanted a child, haven't you? Having a baby around will keep you busy."

I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came out.

I did want a child, but not just to fill the emptiness. But looking at Grayson's unwavering expression, I finally just nodded.

When I saw those two lines on the pregnancy test, my hands were shaking so much I could barely hold it steady.

This wasn't exactly planned, but I was still flooded with happiness.

I called Grayson right away, but his assistant told me he was in the middle of an important meeting.

I knew he was busy, so to make sure I wasn't just imagining things, I decided to go to the hospital for a proper checkup.

The OB-GYN department at the downtown hospital was packed as always. After the exam, the doctor smiled and congratulated me.

He said, "It's six weeks along. Everything's perfectly normal. Remember to take your folic acid and come in for your regular checkups."

I thanked the doctor and walked out of the exam room, ready to call Grayson with the good news.

But just as I turned the corner in the hallway, I caught sight of Grayson, his arm wrapped around the waist of a young woman, leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

She wore a sharp business suit, her long hair flowing over her shoulders. It was his secretary, Vivian Reese.

I froze on the spot, my blood turning to ice. The way they stood together showed that this was more than just a normal work relationship.

I wanted to storm over and demand an explanation, but my legs felt like they were weighed down with lead.

Just then, Grayson looked up and saw me. His face went rigid, and he yanked his arm away from Vivian's waist.

Vivian followed his gaze, a flash of panic flickering across her face before she quickly composed herself.

"Raven, what are you doing here?" Grayson strode over, his voice a little too calm to be natural.

I held up the test results, my voice surprisingly steady. "Came for a prenatal checkup. Guess you're pretty busy, huh?"

His eyes darted between the papers and me, his expression unreadable. "You're pregnant?"