Chapter 4

Natalie's POV

I don't know how I made it back to the villa.

The wound in my palm from the rose thorns was deep enough to see flesh, dried blood crusted on my pale skin, a shocking sight.

But I sat on the sofa, paying no attention.

In my mind, I kept replaying Ethan's furious and cruel eyes when he picked up Vivian, and those words:

"If anything happens to the child in Vivian's belly, I'll make you pay with your life."

He wanted me to pay with my life.

For Vivian's child.

These three years, to cure his stomach condition, I enrolled in cooking classes.

To have common topics with him, I stayed up late reading boring business reports.

To please his family, I endured countless grievances.

I thought even a stone could be warmed.

But it turned out the stone was only cold to me.

Suddenly, a sharp wave of nausea surged up from my stomach. I rushed into the bathroom and violently vomited over the toilet.

I hadn't eaten anything in the evening. What came up was all acid, and by the end, there were even faint traces of blood.

I leaned weakly against the cold tiles, my hand trembling as it touched my lower abdomen.

A few days ago, feeling unwell, I had taken a pregnancy test.

Two lines.

I had planned to tell Ethan this good news on our third anniversary.

I thought that with a child, the ice between us might finally melt.

But now it seemed everything was a complete joke.

Ding.

My phone suddenly received a message.

I opened the screen. It was a photo from Vivian.

In the photo, Ethan was asleep lying against the hospital bed, his hand tightly holding Vivian's, their fingers interlocked.

Beside it was an ultrasound report. Though I couldn't see the specific data, those two words were particularly glaring: Early pregnancy.

Then a voice message came through.

I opened it with trembling hands.

"Natalie, the doctor says the baby is very healthy. Ethan said once he settles things with you, he'll give me and the baby a proper home. You've occupied him for three years. It's time to be sensible and give up your position. After all, the person who isn't loved is the real third party."

The person who isn't loved is the real third party.

These words were like a rusty dull knife, repeatedly pulling and cutting at my heart, so painful I could barely breathe.

I opened my contacts, looked at the name "Ethan," and called.

After three rings, it was answered.

"Are you ever going to stop?"

The man's voice on the other end suppressed anger, even deliberately lowered to avoid waking the person beside him.

"Vivian just fell asleep. What game are you playing now?"

I took a deep breath.

"Ethan, is it true she's pregnant?"

There was an eerie silence for a few seconds on the other end.

"Yes."

Ethan's voice no longer hid anything, carrying a kind of reckless indifference.

"Since you already know, there's no need for me to hide it. This child was an accident, but since it exists, I have to be responsible."

"Responsible?"

I laughed.

"You're being responsible to her. What about me? I'm your wife. You cheated during our marriage and got someone else pregnant. Don't you feel even a bit sorry for me?"

"Natalie, don't use that victim tone with me!"

Ethan completely lost his patience.

"If my grandfather hadn't threatened to die, do you think I would have married you? These three years, you've held the title of Mrs. Shaw and enjoyed wealth and privilege most people never experience. What more do you want? I haven't even settled with you for pushing Vivian tonight. You'd better behave!"

"What if I said I didn't push her at all?"

My voice trembled.

"Enough! I saw it with my own eyes. Can that be fake? You're hopeless!"

The call was once again mercilessly disconnected.

I closed my eyes. Tears silently slid from the corners, shattering into a puddle on the cold tiles.

I thought I would be hysterical, thought I would break down crying.

But when this moment truly arrived, I found my heart was completely hollow.

All my expectations, all my love, crumbled at his words "hopeless."

Early the next morning, I went to the hospital.

But not to the VIP ward. I went to the obstetrics department.

On the way out this morning, my mind was in a daze.

I fell down the stairs and miscarried on the spot.

I cried my heart out.

I'm sorry, baby.

Mommy can't bring you into this world to suffer.

Your father has already given all his love to someone else.

Rather than have you born unwanted, it's better you never appeared at all.

From now on, Ethan and I are finished.