Chapter 1
When David got a phone call during my prenatal checkup, his face turned pale instantly.
He looked at me with pain in his eyes.
"Brenna, Marta is leaving the country. She's never coming back. I have to go say goodbye to her."
I gently stroked my belly, watching him quietly.
"Do you really have to go?"
David's voice trembled as he avoided my gaze.
"Brenna, I'll be a good husband from now on. The three of us—our family—we'll be happy together."
With that, he left without looking back.
He didn't see me collapse to the floor behind him.
In the operating room, the doctor shook his head and said with regret:
"I'm afraid we can't save the baby."
I closed my eyes and nodded.
The baby was gone. And I was done with David too.
Marta's name had become forbidden territory between David and me.
It had been a long time since anyone mentioned it.
Hearing it again today felt almost surreal, like a lifetime had passed.
David's expression was conflicted and pained.
Just like when he knelt before me, begging for forgiveness.
He had sworn to heaven, promising me he would cut all ties with Marta.
"Do you really have to go?"
My voice didn't even sound like my own—surprisingly calm.
But David had already left without looking back.
His figure was resolute and decisive.
I laughed.
A sudden pain shot through my abdomen, and blood pooled on the floor.
This child couldn't be saved after all.
After the surgery, I returned home with a deathly pale face.
The house was pitch dark. David hadn't come back.
No phone call. No message.
I curled my lips in mockery.
Where David was, it went without saying.
Just as I was about to go to the bedroom, the front door suddenly opened.
David was back.
He looked at me with some surprise, his eyes flickering.
"Brenna, why are you in the living room? Why haven't you gone to bed yet? How did the checkup go today?"
He stepped forward, trying to put his arm around me.
But I smelled a perfume that belonged to neither of us.
When my eyes swept over his neck, I also noticed a red mark.
I should have been furious, but instead I felt a sense of finality and relief.
No interrogation. No hysterics.
I stepped back in disgust.
"David, let's get a divorce."
David froze in place, then his tone became irritated.
"Brenna! What the hell are you trying to do? I told you, this was the last time! Why can't you just be understanding?"
I looked at David, now completely losing his composure, my eyes somewhat dazed.
He rarely lost his temper with me.
In everyone's eyes, David loved me deeply, and I believed it too.
He would spend fortunes to buy me top-tier jewelry at auctions.
He would set off fireworks that lit up the entire city for my birthday, just to make me happy.
There were countless instances like these.
Until one person appeared—his new assistant, Marta.
Just because I told Marta to get out of David's passenger seat, her eyes reddened with grievance.
And David snapped at me.
That's when I knew David had crossed the line with Marta.
I cried and threw fits, even threatening to expose Marta and make sure she couldn't survive in New York.
David—such a proud man—knelt before me.
He said he would cut her off completely.
He said he had just lost his way temporarily.
He said he would fire Marta and never see her again.
At that time, touching the baby in my belly, I decided to give David one more chance.
But now, I knew I was done with this man.
David was still making excuses.
"Brenna, I told you, this is the last time. She's already gone. Can you please stop making a scene? Didn't we agree not to bring up divorce again?"
Looking at David, I felt like the man before me had become completely unrecognizable.
He had turned into a liar whose mouth was full of nothing but lies.
My abdomen started hurting again. I was too tired to argue with David anymore and turned back to the bedroom.
A deafening slam of the door echoed from the entrance.