Chapter 2

The interview had two parts. The other was at home.

When Wesley brought the reporters home, I had just gotten Willett to sleep.

He paid no attention to me. After taking off his coat and shaking off the cold, he picked up Michelle, who was watching TV.

He affectionately pinched her chubby cheeks.

"Did Mommy bully you today?"

This was his daily routine question.

I used to think he was joking, but today I heard a different meaning in it.

He was afraid that when he wasn't around, I would bully his beloved first love Lester's daughter.

"Mr. Wesley is so good to his adopted daughter. Miss Lester must be very happy in heaven," the host said.

Wesley's lips curved slightly. I stood to the side and coughed twice.

The atmosphere froze for a few seconds.

The host belatedly realized those words were inappropriate.

"Mrs. Wesley..."

"Lena, did you wash Michelle's school uniform clean?"

He interrupted the host, habitually ordering me around.

"I don't trust the nanny's washing. You must hand-wash it yourself."

Michelle was used to it. She walked on her short legs and stuffed all the dirty clothes she'd changed out of today into my arms.

Wesley urged, "Hurry up."

Everyone's eyes looked me over with contempt, scorn, and disdain.

In that instant, I even felt kinship with a stray dog on the street.

In Wesley's eyes, perhaps I had always been just a servant more useful than an ordinary nanny.

I hung my head in embarrassment, unable to suppress the sourness rising in my throat.

I took a deep breath and loosened my fingers.

Several dirty children's clothes dropped to the floor.

"Wesley, I won't wash them. I'm your wife, not a nanny."

He slowly furrowed his brow and glanced at me indifferently.

"Lena, what do you mean?"

"I saw your interview today."

I gathered my courage and met his eyes.

"You gave all our shared assets to someone else's child. Why?"

Wesley's gaze suddenly sharpened, his voice turning cold.

"What do you mean 'someone else's child'?"

He covered Michelle's ears as he spoke.

"Michelle is my child."

"Lena, when I brought her home to raise, I gave you a choice. You chose to take care of her yourself!"

I looked at the man in front of me, feeling my heart turn cold.

Five years ago, I was near my due date. But he disappeared for seven days and nights.

Because I couldn't find him, I went into early labor, causing our son to be born half a month premature.

Wesley only showed up after I'd given birth.

At that moment, I'd just breathed a sigh of relief, wanting to show him our son.

But he beat me to it, holding out a bundle to me first.

"Lester died in childbirth. She entrusted her child to me. From now on, this child will be our adopted daughter."

My face grew paler and paler. Wesley only paused when I struggled to sit up.

"If you can't accept this, we can also divorce."

"I'll give you and the child monthly support payments. Nothing more than that."

That was the choice he gave me back then.

Swallow my disgust and raise his first love's child, or leave with my premature son with nothing.

I wasn't willing to accept it.

I'd married him five years ago, risked half my life to give birth to a child—why should I get nothing?

So I endured it.

But five years had passed, and he hadn't shown me or our son a trace of compassion.

His deep affection and love seemed to have died with Lester. The only remaining warmth was reserved for Lester's child.

I suddenly felt that all my years of persistence had been like performing a ridiculous comedy for him.

Ten years of love and hate seemed to vanish in his accusations that never held any trust.

I calmly met his gaze.

"Now I want to choose again. This time, I choose to leave with my son."