Chapter 1 Pregnant, Only to Catch Him Cheating

"Two lines." Jenny Grant stared down at the pregnancy test stick in her hand, her eyes shining with pure joy.

She and Edward Blake had been married for three years, and they were finally having a baby.

Just then, her phone chimed with the special tone she'd set for Edward's texts.

'He must be back from his business trip,' Jenny thought, a smile tugging at her lips.

Clutching the test stick, she hurried over to the desk, eager to read the message.

But the image that loaded felt like a lightning bolt straight to her chest, wiping her mind completely blank.

The pregnancy test and her phone slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor.

On the screen, her husband, whom she'd waited a whole month for, was in a packed, upscale club.

He held a petite woman in his arms, cradling her like a bride, while his other hand held tightly to a little girl in a frilly pink party dress.

Jenny recognized the woman he held instantly: Ann Linton.

Everyone in their circle knew her, the childhood sweetheart Edward cherished above all else.

*****

An hour later, Jenny got to the Regalia Club and stopped outside the door to a private room labeled "Courthouse."

The door hung slightly ajar, and she could see Edward and Ann surrounded by their friends on the sofa.

A little girl sat between them, a sparkly birthday crown on her head, beaming from ear to ear.

Every time the girl turned to chat with Edward, he'd lean in to listen intently, his face soft and tender.

That gentle, loving look stung Jenny like a poisoned needle.

Flowers and balloons filled the room. Surrounded by cheering friends, the three of them looked like the perfect, happy family.

Anyone who laid eyes on this scene could feel nothing but pure joy and sweet happiness.

But Jenny, Edward's legal wife, was the one watching.

Amid the crowd's teasing shouts, Ann stood up in a tight red dress, bent down, and slipped a paper birthday hat onto Edward's head.

Right then, someone flipped off all the lights.

Candlelight cast a warm glow over Ann's stunning face, making her look radiant.

"Edward, blow out the candles and make a wish," she said softly.

If Jenny had said that, Edward would have brushed her off and called her childish.

But with Ann, he was a different person. His usually cold voice grew warm and soft, his eyes full of affection. "Alright."

He blew out the candles, and everyone sang "Happy Birthday."

As his eyes closed to make a wish, Ann watched him, her gaze soft and full of longing. An invisible bubble seemed to surround them, keeping everyone else out.

Jenny's fingers dug into her flat stomach, turning her knuckles white. Her heart felt like it was being ripped open, yet she didn't look away. She forced herself to watch their tender moment, punishing herself on purpose.

When the lights flickered back on, her cheeks were already streaked with tears.

Someone in the lounge spoke up. "Ann, you're not leaving the country again, are you? You should stay closer to Edward. It's such a hassle for him to fly overseas every time he misses you."

Ann's cheeks flushed pink. "Edward has a wife. Please don't say things like that."

Edward leaned back on the sofa, propping his cheek on his hand. His warm gaze stayed fixed on Ann as he said, "It doesn't matter."

'Doesn't matter?' Jenny scoffed silently. 'Looks like Edward's temper always depends on who he's with.'

She remembered how he hated any gossip about his personal life. But for Ann, he threw all his rules out the window.

Jenny didn't scream, didn't demand answers, didn't make a scene. She couldn't even remember how she got out of the club.

She slid into a taxi, pressed her cheek against the cold window, and choked back her sobs. Her heart throbbed with a sharp, steady ache.

Three years ago, Edward's grandfather Matthew was on his deathbed. Jenny had accidentally saved his life, and he told her she could ask for anything she wanted.

She'd asked for nothing but a chance to marry Edward.

Everyone whispered she'd planned it all to cling to the wealthy Blake family. No one knew she'd loved Edward for years; he was the boy from her daydreams, her perfect fantasy.

Even though Edward had been cold to her these past three years, he always came home on time for the meals she made, held her close at night, and trusted her with everything in his life.

Jenny had thought that counted as happiness and believed their quiet routine would last forever.

But everything she'd seen tonight felt like a thousand slaps to her face.

Three years of marriage had been a stolen dream. And now, it was time to wake up.

*****

Jenny stumbled home like a ghost. The whole house was dark, cold and empty, not a trace of warmth anywhere.

On the dining table sat the birthday cake she'd baked, the words "Happy Birthday" piped across the top. Now it only looked ridiculous.

She didn't turn on the lights. By the faint moonlight seeping through the windows, she dragged her heavy feet over to the sofa and dropped down hard. Her pretty face went blank, like a puppet stripped of its soul.

She sat frozen for ages, then slowly lifted a hand to rest gently on her flat stomach. A tiny life was growing there, the baby she'd waited so long for. Yet its timing couldn't be worse.

The baby's father was out celebrating his birthday with another woman, playing happy family, while his wife was stuck alone in this cold, empty house, drowning in a grief she could barely hold back.

Tears spilled over again. Jenny buried her face in her palms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Reunited after years apart," she murmured, her voice hoarse.

All of a sudden, memories from a month prior flooded her mind like a slide show.

She'd been packing Edward's luggage out on the balcony when she overheard him talking on the phone.

"Yeah, my flight lands at two this afternoon. Don't bother picking me up; you shouldn't overexert yourself. Stay home and wait. I'll come straight to you as soon as I land," he'd said, his voice softer and more patient than Jenny had ever heard.

Confused, she'd asked casually, "Who's that?"

The second Edward turned to face her, all warmth vanished, replaced by his usual icy detachment. "Just a friend."

Now it all clicked. That friend had been Ann.

Actually, it wasn't the first time Jenny had seen Ann in the private booth just now.

Years ago, she'd found a photo tucked in the hidden slot of Edward's wallet. A young Ann with her long hair tied in a ponytail, wind whipping the strands high, every inch the classic unattainable first love.

She wondered how many of his so-called "business trips" over the past month were actually spent with Ann and that little girl.

Thinking of it, she realized the little girl she spotted in the private booth looked around three or four years old.

A far older memory crashed over Jenny next, chilling her to the bone.

Shortly after she'd married Edward three years back, Ann had suddenly moved abroad and stayed overseas until today.

A terrifying thought bloomed in her mind, stealing her breath and chilling her blood.

She dug her nails hard into her palm, using the sharp sting to pull herself back. She shook her head and whispered in a trembling voice, "No, that's impossible."

But the seed of doubt had rooted deep inside her, twisting into thorny vines that wrapped tight around her chest, choking her.

Jenny sat stiff on the sofa until sunrise.

Edward hadn't come home all night, and it was plain who he'd stayed with.

Jenny forced her stiff, numb body to stand up, grabbed the pregnancy test stick off the table, and headed to the master bedroom, planning to lock it away in her suitcase.

'Guess no one but me is happy this child is here,' she thought, her gaze dimming all at once.

Just then, the front door unlocked behind her.

Her heart lurched, and her hand shook, the pregnancy test slipping onto the carpet.

Chapter 2 The Divorce Papers

Footsteps drew closer and closer.

Panicked, Jenny quickly snatched the test stick and stuffed it into her dress pocket.

A large hand landed on her shoulder, twisting her body around.

Jenny's body went rigid. She steadied her emotions and lifted her head to meet Edward's chiseled face.

Their gazes locked. His cold, unemotional eyes looked like a frozen lake.

His high nose sat above thin, pressed lips, and every inch of him radiated unapproachable coldness.

Edward had always been this cold, and after three years of marriage, Jenny was used to it.

But last night, she'd watched this same unyielding ice melt into warm, gentle water for Ann.

"You've been crying? Because I missed my birthday dinner with you last night?" Edward asked, one long finger brushing her eyelid.

Her eyes were swollen from a full night of weeping, and his touch stung.

Jenny twisted her fingers into the fabric of her dress, taking a deep breath before she spoke. "I..."

Before she could finish, his shadow fell over her, and a warm kiss landed on her swollen eyelid.

"I saw all the things you prepared for me," he whispered.

Jenny's heart fluttered with a stupid, fleeting spark of joy, and light flickered back into her charming eyes. "So you—"

Edward cut her off again, "Don't bother doing that again. It's a waste of your time."

'A waste of time?' Jenney thought bitterly. 'He knew he wouldn't come home, so he thought all my work was meaningless?

'That makes sense. Ann has his whole heart, while I'm merely a nuisance to him. If Matthew hadn't pushed him into this marriage, he would've divorced me long ago.

'He made himself clear last night, choosing Ann to celebrate his birthday with. So why did I still let myself hope?'

That tiny spark of happiness inside Jenny froze solid in an instant. Her eyes dimmed again, shrouded in heavy despair. "I understand."

Suddenly, a thought hit her. She lifted her head again, her voice raw and scratchy. "Where were you last night? Why didn't you come home?"

Edward's tone stayed flat. "Overtime work."

Those two simple words cut through Jenny's chest like a sharp blade, slicing her heart open and leaving her bleeding inside.

Her eyes burned with fresh tears. She reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. "Edward."

Jenny had tender skin, so every emotion showed plainly on her face. Now her eyes and nose were both bright red, a sight that might've softened anyone.

Edward leaned down and captured her parted, wet lips in a deep, possessive kiss, one hand fisted in the back of her hair to hold her close.

His kisses were like him, domineering and overflowing with possessiveness.

Soon, Jenny melted against him, and he only pulled away once her lips went numb.

She caught her breath as he stayed pressed against her, stretching one long arm to grab a coat from the closet.

As he moved, she caught a whiff of women's perfume clinging to his shirt.

She squeezed her eyes shut in agony. When she opened them again, Edward had buttoned his black collared shirt all the way to the top, slipping on his watch, back to his usual untouchable, restrained self.

Seeing he was about to leave, Jenny grabbed his arm. "Edward, don't go yet. I need to talk to you about something."

"Alright." Edward pulled his arm free roughly, straightened his tie in the mirror, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "I have a critical meeting at nine. I'm short on time. Stop clinging to me, and we can talk when I get back."

With that, he turned and left without a second glance.

Jenny stared at his quick retreating back, tears streaming down her face.

Edward was a meticulous planner. Even for urgent meetings, he always arranged his schedule to leave plenty of buffer time.

His rush this morning had nothing to do with work; he was hurrying off to be with Ann and her little girl.

Jenny leaned against the closet door, all strength draining from her body, and slid down to sit on the cold floor.

She couldn't figure out why Edward bothered lying about where he'd spent last night.

Maybe he was putting on a show for Matthew's sake, or maybe he simply didn't care if she found out.

Either way, it all boiled down to one truth: he'd never loved her.

She'd laid her whole heart out for him over three years, and he'd never once acknowledged it.

Ann was back, and she had a daughter with Edward. There was no longer a place for Jenny in this house. Divorce was only a matter of time.

Rather than stay and humiliate herself longer, Jenny decided to leave first. At least this way, she could keep a shred of dignity.

She pushed herself back onto her feet, her gaze sweeping over all the ties and cufflinks she'd hand-picked for Edward, her chest tight with sorrow.

Holding back the tears burning in her eyes, she pulled the pregnancy test she'd hidden in her dress pocket and locked it inside the safe.

Then she pulled out her phone and sent a text to her late mother's lawyer, Franklin White: [Could you draft a divorce agreement for me, please?]

After sending the message, she headed to the bathroom to wash up.

When she came back out, her phone buzzed with an incoming call from her father, Michael.

His voice sounded cautious on the other end. "Jenny, are you up yet?"

"Yep," replied Jenny.

"Linda wants to talk to you about something. Would you mind stopping by our place?"

"Alright, I'll head over later."

Jenny set her phone down to charge, quickly cooked a plate of pasta, and ate it blankly. Then she grabbed her car keys and drove to Grant Manor.

*****

Jenny had barely stepped into Grant Manor when she spotted Linda sprawled across the sofa, a face mask covering her features.

Linda must've heard her footsteps. She twisted her head around, and the mask slid right off her face from shock.

She tossed the mask straight into the trash can without bothering to put it back on, complaining sharply, "You got here way too fast. I haven't even eaten breakfast yet."

Jenny had long grown used to Linda's petty nitpicking. Her expression stayed flat, her tone calm. "I can leave if you'd like."

Jenny's mother had died in a car crash when Jenny was seven. Not long after the funeral, Michael had married Linda, who'd brought her three-year-old son Ryan into the family.

In other words, Michael had cheated on Jenny's mother, then rushed to marry his lover before his late wife's ashes had even gone cold.

Back then, Jenny had assumed Ryan came from a broken home, like her. It wasn't until years later that she discovered the real story.

But Michael had doted on her extra hard after everything, which left her torn. She resented him for betraying her mother, yet couldn't bring herself to hate him fully.

Linda had never liked Jenny, whose cold, dismissive reply struck a nerve. Linda seethed. "You—"

Then something crossed her mind, and the harsh words died on her tongue. Her eyes flickered as she plastered a sickly sweet smile across her face.

She leant in to butter Jenny up. "I mentioned wanting to buy a villa in Riverside Estate as a wedding gift for Ryan? Well, they're all sold out now. Since the Blakes developed that land, have you talked to Edward about getting one for us?"

Jenny stared at her blankly. "A single villa in Riverside Estate starts at tens of millions. Where are you getting that kind of money?"

Linda waved a hand dismissively. "Edward is Ryan's brother-in-law. Surely he can give us a family discount, right?"

Jenny knew Linda's game all too well. She'd start by asking for a discount, then push for a steeper one, and eventually try to get the place for free once Edward gave an inch.

Before, Jenny would have made up some excuse to avoid asking Edward, anything to keep Linda from throwing a tantrum at Michael and stressing her father out. But things were different now.

"If you're planning to take advantage of Edward's wealth, forget it," she said flatly.

Linda's eyes went wide, but before she could retort, Jenny dropped a bombshell. "Edward and I are getting a divorce."

Chapter 3 Daddy

"Divorce?" Linda shrilled, her voice sharp enough to rattle the ceiling.

Once the shock wore off, she glared at Jenny, furious and disappointed. "Do you know how many ladies in Petrico would kill to be in your shoes? Being Mrs. Blake is a blessing, and you're throwing it away? Have you lost your mind?"

Jenny's expression stayed empty. "You can have this blessing if you want it."

Linda was left speechless. She spun around and yelled up the stairs. "Michael, get down here!"

Michael hurried down from his study. "What's wrong, honey?"

Linda jabbed a finger at Jenny, sneering, "She's lost her mind. I only asked her to ask Edward to reserve a Riverside Estate villa for Ryan, and she started spouting nonsense about divorcing him.

"I can't talk any sense into her; you have a go. Stop her from making a terrible mistake before she loses the title of Mrs. Blake and regrets it for life."

Michael stared at Jenny in total shock. "You want to divorce Edward?"

He knew Jenny had loved Edward for years. He'd watched her endure endless gossip to marry him.

Their marriage had seemed steady lately. Edward even came over for dinner with Michael sometimes—why would she suddenly want to end everything?

"Yeah." Jenny lowered her eyelashes to hide the sharp pain flickering in her eyes.

Michael pulled her down to sit on the sofa beside him. "Everything was fine before. What happened? Did Edward hurt you?"

Edward's childhood sweetheart was back, so nothing could ever be the same again. But Jenny couldn't bring herself to spill all that pain to her father.

Her chest ached with bitterness. She pinched her palm hard, forcing her voice to stay calm. "He didn't hurt me. I simply don't want this life anymore. I want to leave and live for myself."

Michael didn't fully buy it. "If you're suffering, tell me."

A faint warmth spread through Jenny's chest, and she was about to speak.

Linda's sharp voice cut in, "Suffering? She's Mrs. Blake! She has maids waiting on her hand and foot, rides in fancy cars, eats the best food, and wears designer clothes from head to toe. What hardship could she face?

"All that luxury has made her soft. She's just throwing a fit. Once the divorce goes through and she loses everything, she'll come crawling back to Edward. You can count on it."

Jenny's fragile composure shattered at the cruel words. She shouted, "Yeah, being Mrs. Blake is great, but I don't want it anymore!"

Linda and Michael both froze, stunned.

Jenny had always kept a gentle temper. This sudden outburst shocked them both.

"I can't keep being Mrs. Blake anymore. Can't I be Jenny again?" Her voice trailed off into a helpless whisper, her body trembling with the weight of it all.

She could take Edward being cold and distant. But his weak excuses and constant lies for some other woman was the last straw.

For three years of marriage, she'd laid her whole heart out to him time and time again. Yet last night, she watched with her own eyes how he tossed her sincerity aside and crushed it to pieces.

"Y-You..." Linda stammered for ages before she managed a complete sentence. "We're your elders. Can't you talk properly instead of raising your voice?"

Jenny pressed her lips together and fell silent.

Linda let out a cold snort. "I only asked you to help Ryan secure a villa. If you don't want to, say it. No need to blow up at me in front of Michael. Typical Mrs. Blake, all high and mighty."

Jenny parted her lips, yet words stuck in her throat. After all, no one would ever understand her agony.

Linda continued, "If you refuse to help Ryan because you share different mothers, I understand.

"But think about Michael. He just landed a huge business project thanks to being Edward's father-in-law. He's pulled all-nighters for days drafting plans, skipping meals to finish the work.

"If you file for divorce now, what will become of him? Can you bear to watch all his hard work go to waste?"

Jenny turned to look at Michael, only now noticing the dark circles under his eyes, his face worn thin and exhausted.

A crushing wave of helplessness washed over her. She pinched her palm and asked quietly, "How much longer until the project wraps up?"

Michael replied, "About one more week, but if you—"

Linda pinched his arm hard, shooting him urgent warning eyes.

He swallowed his unfinished sentence with a helpless sigh.

Jenny understood how much pressure Michael was under. "I'll wait until the project finishes."

*****

After driving home, Jenny went to water the plants in the backyard. Her eyes were empty, her mind somewhere else, completely lost in thought.

One week was enough for her to figure out her feelings about this marriage to Edward, and to decide what to do about the baby.

Maybe when Edward came home tonight, she could test where his heart truly stood. She wanted to hear his thoughts on divorce, and on their unborn child.

Once she finished watering, Jenny checked the clock: Edward would be off work soon. She headed to the kitchen to cook dinner.

Edward valued his personal space above all else, and hated anyone lingering in their master bedroom.

Aside from a maid coming regularly for deep cleaning, Jenny handled all the daily housework herself.

Edward had a picky palate and a sensitive stomach. Over three years of marriage, Jenny had taught herself to cook every gentle, nourishing dish he loved.

An hour later, she finished cooking three dishes and a soup, all of Edward's favorites.

Warm steam curled up from the food, adding a rare touch of home warmth to the cold, empty mansion.

Jenny set out two sets of silverware and sat at the dining table to wait.

But as the minutes ticked by, the food turned cold, and twilight seeped into the house. Edward never showed up.

Jenny shifted her stiff body, picked up the phone from the table, took a deep breath, and dialed Edward.

"Edward." Her voice came out raw and hoarse. She cleared her throat to sound steady, and tried again. "You said you'd be home for dinner tonight."

Edward's voice remained cold, void of any warmth. "I'm stuck working overtime."

Jenny gripped the phone tight, holding back hot tears. "You can't even spare time to come home for a single meal?"

"Yeah," Edward replied flatly. "I'll be swamped with work for the next few days. Don't wait for me."

Every word trapped Jenny's unspoken thoughts in her throat. She sniffled softly. "Got it."

Edward added, "I've told you before: don't call me during my work hours."

Jenny blinked, a tear sliding down her cheek and spotting her dress with a dark, wet mark. "Okay."

Right then, a childish voice echoed faintly from Edward's end of the line. "Daddy, Mommy says come draw pictures with me."

Chapter 4 The Happy Little Family

The word "Daddy" echoed in Jenny's mind. Her hand clenched around the phone. "Edward!" The name burst from her lips just as a sharp beep sounded in her ear. He'd hung up.

Jenny hit redial, her eyes fixed on the screen with a desperate, almost obsessive intensity. A bitter ache rose in her chest, so heavy she could barely breathe.

A desperate voice screamed inside her head, 'Pick up! Why won't you pick up? You said you were working late. So who's calling you Daddy in your office right now?'

The third time she tried, a cold, robotic voice came on the line. "The number you have dialed is powered off."

No explanation. No excuse. He'd just turned it off, probably worried she might keep calling and intrude on his time with them.

Of course he'd done that. In Edward's eyes, she had never really mattered. She was nothing compared to Ann. Nothing compared to his daughter with Ann.

Her mind understood the situation perfectly, but her heart refused to listen. It felt like it was being crushed.

She clutched at her chest and pressed her fist against it, trying to force the pain away. But it only grew sharper and sharper, until she couldn't take it anymore.

A scream tore from her throat. She swept her arm across the table, sending everything crashing to the floor. Plates shattered. Food scattered. Then the sobs started, stifled and ragged, filling the room.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Eventually her tears dried up, and her eyes burned, raw and stinging.

She got up, washed her face, and dragged her exhausted, numb body around to clean up the wreckage. She moved like a ghost, hollow-eyed and numb. When it was finished, she went upstairs.

She walked into the master bedroom and sat down on the bed, pulling a wooden photo frame from the drawer. The woman in the photograph was beautiful, with a warm and gentle smile. Jenny's eyes and brows bore a striking resemblance to hers.

Jenny brushed her fingers over the frame, gentle and slow, as if she could reach through the glass and touch the woman who had once loved her most. "Mom," she choked out, and the dam broke all over again.

Tears spilled down onto the glass, blurring the woman's face beneath it. She tried wiping the glass dry, but fresh tears kept falling onto it. It was hopeless. She clutched the frame to her chest and broke down, sobbing into it.

"Mom, you always said that being with the one you love is the greatest happiness in the world." Her voice shattered. "Then why... why does it hurt this much?"

*****

She didn't remember falling asleep, but the phone was ringing now, pulling her out of a haze. She squinted against the light, rubbed at her sore temples, and answered. "Hello?"

A bright, lively voice came through the line. "Jenny! I'm back from my work trip! I'm thinking of going to the mall today. Are you coming?"

It was Sylvia Quinn, her best friend. Hearing her voice pulled Jenny fully awake. The thought of seeing Sylvia soon pushed back some of the gloom. "Sure," Jenny said. "Mall entrance, ten o'clock."

After hanging up, Jenny went to the bathroom to freshen up. In the mirror, a hollowed-out face stared back at her. She tried to smile, but it came out worse than a frown.

The past two days had turned her calm, quiet life into something worthy of a soap opera.

She didn't want Sylvia to see her looking so ghostly pale, so she put on some light makeup before heading out, just enough to bring a little color back to her face.

*****

At the mall, Jenny had barely stepped inside when Sylvia rushed over and threw her arms around her. "Jenny!"

Jenny hugged her back, just as tight. The two best friends kept hugging and squeezing each other, reluctant to let go.

After a while, Sylvia finally stepped back and pulled a small box from her bag. "I designed this bracelet on my trip. When I saw the finished piece, I knew it was meant for you. Try it on and tell me if you like it."

Sylvia was the lead designer at a jewelry studio. The money was good, but overseas trips kept her busy. She and Jenny only managed to meet a few times a year.

But whenever they met, Sylvia brought her something she'd made herself. Every piece was a one-of-a-kind original, never sold in stores, custom-made for her best friend.

Jenny was always moved by these gifts. "You'll wear yourself out," she murmured as she opened the box and slipped the bracelet onto her wrist.

Two fine silver chains were woven together into a delicate band, and from it hung a tiny bellflower that chimed with every movement. The whole thing looked like a piece of art.

"Thank you, my best designer," Jenny said. She shook the bracelet gently, then pulled Sylvia into a hug. "I love it. But you've got to stop spoiling me."

Sylvia knew Jenny was just worried about her working too hard. She eased out of the hug and gave Jenny's cheek a playful pinch. "You love it, so it was worth the effort. So no pushing back next time. Just accept it."

Jenny linked her arm with Sylvia's. A sudden sting rose behind her nose. "Okay," she said.

Afterward, they hit a few clothing stores on the top floor and grabbed coffee downstairs. Passing the arcade, Sylvia seized Jenny's arm. "Whack-a-Mole! Come on, Jenny. You have to play with me."

"Okay," Jenny said with a smile. Then she glanced up. And froze. The smile vanished from her face. Her blood ran cold. Within a heartbeat, her face was paper-white, drained of all color.

Just ahead stood Edward, the man who had told her last night he'd be buried in work these days. Now he was at a claw machine with Ann and their daughter.

In his dark suit and tailored gray slacks, Edward cut an imposing figure against the garish pink arcade game. He looked completely wrong for this place. But the smile on his face was gentle, a kind of tenderness Jenny had never seen from him before.

Sylvia noticed Jenny's expression and followed her gaze. The sight stopped her cold. Her grip on Jenny's hand tightened. "Jenny," she said quietly. "Stay calm. Let's get closer and see."

Jenny's body had turned to stone. She let Sylvia pull her along.

The family ahead, meanwhile, made a perfect picture of happiness, lost in their own little world. None of them noticed Jenny or Sylvia.

They'd won a pile of stuffed animals. Edward held the little girl. Ann walked beside him, her arms full of their prizes and a radiant smile on her face.

They stepped out onto the sidewalk. Ann handed the prizes to a waiting bodyguard, then went to buy a beignet. When she came back, she held it up to Edward's mouth.

Jenny was sure he'd turn away. Edward hated sweets. He always had. But this time, he opened his mouth and took a bite.

A violent tremor ran through her. Something was pushing up from her chest, clawing at her throat. "Edward." His name came out as a broken whisper.

Chapter 5 This Is Decided

The grief and anger Jenny had been holding in over the past few days came bursting out. "Edward!" Her voice rose to a scream as she ran at him like a woman possessed.

"Jenny!" Sylvia hurried after her.

Edward clearly hadn't expected to see Jenny there. His expression darkened.

"Edward, who is she?" Ann looked at him, her face a mask of innocent confusion.

Edward handed the child over to Ann and helped them into the waiting car. "Go back to the hotel. I'll come find you later." He closed the door, and then the Bentley pulled away.

Jenny lunged forward, trying to go after the car. Edward caught her around the waist. His voice was cold and hard. "Are you done making a scene?"

"Making a scene?" Disbelief and hurt flickered across Jenny's face. "You told me you were buried in work." She jabbed a finger toward the departing Bentley. "This is what busy looks like? Shopping with another woman? Don't I deserve an explanation?"

Edward noticed the crowd forming around them. His jaw tightened. Grabbing Jenny by the wrist, he pulled her toward the other car. "Calm down. We'll talk in the car."

"I'm not getting in." Jenny planted her feet and pulled back.

The scene was turning ugly. Edward's face went cold. Without a word, he scooped her up and strode toward the car. His bodyguards moved in behind him, cutting off the crowd and ordering them to delete any photos.

Sylvia was blocked by the bodyguards too, unable to get through. She caught a glimpse of Jenny thrashing in Edward's arms, her face flushed. "Mr. Blake!" she shouted. "Put her down!"

But Edward didn't even pause. He shoved Jenny into the car and slammed the door.

Inside the car, Edward's face was thunderous. The air around him felt dangerous.

This side of him frightened her. Jenny shrank into the corner, her fists pounding against the window. "Let me out." The dull thuds echoed through the car.

Edward lost his patience. He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. One hand caught her wrists. The other pressed into the small of her back, arching her spine so that her face tilted up to his. "Jenny, are you done?"

His dismissive tone made something snap inside her. "I'm making a scene. Is that what you think?" Jenny's voice shook. "You told me you were buried in work. That's what you said last night. So this is what busy looks like? Shopping with another woman?"

A sharp pain cut through her chest, and her voice dropped. "We're married. You're shopping with another woman, and you won't even give me an explanation."

It was jealousy, plain and simple. Edward loosened his grip on her wrists, though his hand remained at her waist. "She's Ann Linton, an old friend. We grew up together. Three years ago, she married another friend of mine. They moved overseas and had Sophie.

"Unfortunately, that friend passed away recently. Ann had nowhere else to turn. That friend once saved my life. I'm not going to turn his widow away."

Jenny thought of the other night. Ann placing the birthday hat on Edward's head. She pressed her lips together, her gaze going distant. "Is that so?"

"Work has been really busy," Edward went on. "Ann and Sophie just happened to be shopping near the office. She said she needed my help, so I met up with them."

'She needed help playing a claw machine. That was the emergency. And a friend's daughter calls you Daddy. Right.' The irony settled cold in her chest. He wasn't even trying. The lies were paper-thin, thrown together just to shut her up.

A wave of self-mockery washed over her. 'Three years of marriage, and this is the longest conversation we've ever had. All because of another woman.'

"One more thing. Ann came back in a rush. With Sophie to look after, she hasn't found a place yet. They'll be staying at our house for a while," he added.

Jenny was still processing his earlier words when the next ones landed and detonated. Her ears rang. Her head buzzed. The question came out before she knew it. "What did you say?" She stared at him, waiting to find out she'd misheard.

Edward kept it brief. "Ann and Sophie are moving in. You'll need to prepare."

Now the words registered. "No." Her voice rose, climbing with every word. "Absolutely not." Her eyes reddened as she stared Edward down.

"That's our home. Every cabinet, every light fixture, every dish. I chose it all. I put it all there with my own hands. I won't let another woman move in."

Edward hadn't expected this much resistance. His brow furrowed. He was about to speak when his phone rang. It was Chris Harper, his assistant. He took the call.

"Mr. Blake, the meeting's about to begin," Chris said.

"Okay." Edward ended the call, then glanced at Jenny, his gaze cool. "I'm not asking. This is already decided."

The car stopped in front of Blake Group. Edward got out. "Take her home," he told the driver, and slammed the door shut. He strode toward the entrance with long, commanding strides. A group of executives met him at the door and swept him inside.

Jenny watched him walk away until the doors closed behind him. Then a tear slipped down her cheek. She buried her face in her hands and wept quietly.

'I'm not asking. This is already decided.' The words played back in her head. She had no say in any of this. Even if Edward was in love with Ann, even if Sophie was his daughter, she couldn't object. She had no right.

She was the one who had chased him and asked for this marriage. But still. Three years they'd spent together, sharing a home, sharing a bed. She never imagined he could be this heartless.

Soon they arrived at the house. Jenny got out.

The driver noticed her swollen eyes. "Mrs. Blake," he said quietly. "Are you all right?"

Jenny forced a small smile. "I'm fine. Thanks for the drive."

*****

Ann and Sophie moved in the next morning. The sound of voices woke Jenny from a restless sleep. Her temples throbbed, a sharp, stabbing pain. She pressed her fingers to her head and walked out of her room, stopping at the banister to look down.

Downstairs, Ann was directing the movers. Edward appeared behind her. They exchanged a few words, and Ann lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her face lit with a shy, intimate smile.

Without realizing it, Jenny had gripped the banister. Her knuckles were bone-white.

Just then, Edward looked up. Their eyes met. He paused for a second, then lifted a hand and waved her down. "Jenny. Come down here and meet our guests."

Chapter 6 Just A Title

Jenny came downstairs, and Ann greeted her with a wide smile. "Ms. Grant, our first meeting yesterday was a little awkward. A misunderstanding, really. Let me introduce myself properly. I'm Ann Linton. Edward's old friend."

Jenny's lips twitched into a thin smile. "Hello. I'm Jenny." And then, her mind snagged on something: the way Ann had addressed her. Her gaze went cold. "But shouldn't you be calling me Mrs. Blake, rather than Ms. Grant?"

Ann paused, then turned to Edward. "Calling her Mrs. Blake feels off. You and I have known each other too long for that. What do you think?"

Jenny pressed her nails into her palm and looked at Edward.

Edward's face stayed calm. "It's just a title. Call her whatever you want."

The smile on Ann's face grew even brighter. She turned to Jenny. "See, Ms. Grant? Edward agrees with me."

Jenny couldn't muster a smile. Not anymore. Her nails bit deeper. "Whatever makes you happy." The words came out flat. She turned and walked upstairs, head tilted back, throat tight, fighting to keep the tears from spilling.

Something was crushing her from the inside. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw Ann out of her house. But she could do nothing.

She was a Mrs. Blake in name only. Her own husband wouldn't even acknowledge her as his wife. She didn't have the right to be angry, let alone drive out the childhood friend Edward had always kept close to his heart.

Ann watched her go. Then she turned to Edward, the picture of innocent confusion. "What's wrong with Ms. Grant?"

"She's just in a mood. Ignore it," Edward replied.

Ann covered her mouth with a soft laugh. "Better go sweet-talk her. Unless you want to pay for it later."

"She won't." Edward brushed it off. "She's always been compliant."

A glint crossed Ann's eyes. Her tone was light, but there was something pointed beneath it. "Is that why you married her? Because she was compliant?"

"Probably," Edward answered.

The curve of Ann's mouth widened. She surveyed the space with a slow, measuring gaze, as if inspecting her new domain. Then a thought seemed to strike her.

She turned to Edward. "Sophie's been having nightmares every night at the hotel. I think she needs to be somewhere that feels more like home," she said.

"Could you spare a room? I'd like to fix it up for her, make it feel like her own space. And maybe add a few of her things to the living room. Just some familiar touches. It would help her feel safer."

"All right." Edward nodded.

Ann hadn't expected him to agree so quickly. She lowered her eyes, the gesture more calculated than shy. "You're really all right with this? Me changing things around? What about Ms. Grant?"

"It's fine. Sophie's situation is unusual. Anyone would understand." Edward paused. "You don't need to worry about Jenny. She's kind and soft-hearted. I'll talk to her about Sophie's situation when I get a chance. She'll understand."

Ann's expression melted into gratitude. "Edward, thank you. I wouldn't have come to you if I'd had any other choice. If only Eric..." The name caught. Her eyes reddened, and tears slipped down. "If only he were still here..."

Edward's face softened. He reached out and patted her shoulder. "You don't need to thank me. Eric saved my life. And we've been friends for over ten years. Did you think I'd leave you and Sophie on your own?

"Just settle in. I'll take care of everything until the Jennings family sorts things out overseas."

"Edward." Ann's sobs deepened. She leaned into him, her face pressed against his chest.

Edward stiffened. But considering how broken up she was, he didn't push her away. He let her stay there and cry.

Upstairs, Jenny saw everything. She bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood. The divorce papers twisted in her grip, deep creases spreading across the pages.

The decision had come to her right then, as Edward stood there letting Ann call her whatever she pleased. She went to the bedroom, pulled out the divorce papers, and signed them.

She had meant to throw them in his face and demand a divorce, but then she thought of her father's worn, exhausted face. The impulse died. 'Just hold on a few more days. The week is nearly over, and then it will all be done.'

*****

Jenny stayed upstairs all morning. At noon, Edward came up and found her on the window seat, sketching.

The breeze lifted the blue curtains, brushing them softly against the white of her dress. Her hair was pinned up loosely, half of it spilling past her shoulders.

There was a natural grace to her, an effortless elegance that made her look like she'd stepped out of a watercolor.

Edward approached quietly, careful not to startle her. The carpet was thick beneath his feet, muffling every step.

Jenny, absorbed in her sketch, didn't notice him at all. Not until his arms came around her, pulling her back against the solid warmth of his chest.

"What are you drawing?" he asked.

Jenny shifted, trying to pull free. "Let go of me."

But Edward didn't let go. He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at the sketchbook.

The drawing showed a mirror, shattered beyond repair. It was just a simple sketch, but it carried a weight Edward couldn't quite name.

He remembered her usual sketches: flowers, blue skies, cute little bunnies, all bright and cheerful. This drawing was nothing like those. He pulled her a little closer. "Why are you drawing a broken mirror?"

"No reason," she said flatly. "Just felt like it."

She tried to stand, but his arms locked around her. "Are you still angry about Ann and Sophie moving in?" he asked.

Jenny finally pushed him off and got to her feet. She put the sketchbook away. "I'm not angry. Anyway, what right do I have?"

Edward came up behind her. His voice was edged with irritation. "Jenny. Ann lost her husband. Sophie lost her father. They're here temporarily. I'll move them out as soon as they find a place. Why do you have to be so petty about this?"

Chapter 7 I'm Pregnant

"Petty?" Jenny turned to face him, her voice climbing. "I let you move her into our home. I let you take care of her. What else do you want from me?

"Should I smile and applaud while you sleep with her? Would that make me less petty?"

"Jenny!" The chill in Edward's voice could have cut glass. "I don't want to hear another word like that. Especially not in front of Ann. Do you understand?"

Ever since his birthday, when he'd stayed out with Ann instead of coming home, Jenny had understood where she stood. She was nothing next to Ann.

She drew a slow breath, forced down the bitterness, and answered without expression. "Fine. I'll stay out of her way. Is that good enough?"

Edward frowned. "Wipe that look off your face. Ann hasn't done anything to you." He turned and strode off without another glance.

Jenny stood still. Fresh tears slid down her face. She wiped them away, then picked up the sketch, tore it into pieces, and dropped them into the trash.

That drawing was her marriage now. A shattered mirror with cracks running deep and impossible to fix.

*****

The next day, when Jenny came downstairs, Edward was having breakfast with Ann and Sophie.

In just one day, the house had changed. The pale sofa cushions she'd picked out herself were gone, replaced by bold red ones. The simple decorations she'd hung on the walls had been taken down and swapped for vintage pieces.

Edward had called it a temporary stay. The idea was almost laughable. A temporary guest didn't redecorate the house.

Jenny remembered how Edward used to be. He hated change. Once, she'd replaced a vase in his study, and he'd warned her never to move his things. But now Ann could rearrange the entire house, and Jenny wasn't allowed to say a word about it.

The difference between being loved and not being loved was painfully clear now. For three years, she had believed their marriage was sweet. But watching Edward with Ann, she finally understood. She'd been living in a joke.

Jenny lowered her eyes, hiding the hurt. Then she slipped out of the house in silence.

Ann caught a glimpse of Jenny slipping out. A flicker of triumph crossed her face.

At the table, Edward wasn't really eating. Every few bites, he checked his watch, then glanced toward the stairs.

After ten minutes, Jenny still hadn't appeared. Edward rapped his fingers on the table impatiently. "Mary."

The maid, Mary Summers, came in from the kitchen. "Yes, sir?"

"Go upstairs and tell Mrs. Blake to come down for breakfast."

Mary paused, surprised. "Sir, Mrs. Blake left a while ago. Didn't you see her?"

"She went out?" Edward frowned. He stood up without thinking.

Ann was about to say something, but Edward cut her off. "You and Sophie finish your breakfast." Then he was already walking out to the backyard, phone pressed to his ear. It was obvious who he was calling.

Ann's grip tightened on her fork. Then she looked around the room, at all the changes she'd already made, and her fingers slowly relaxed. She placed a piece of pancake on Sophie's plate. "Eat slowly, sweetheart."

Mary sighed and turned back to the kitchen. She knew this house wouldn't stay peaceful for long.

*****

In the backyard, Edward called twice before Jenny finally picked up. "What is it?" she asked.

The backyard breeze had cooled his temper. He'd meant to talk to her calmly. But the chill in her voice lit a spark of anger in his chest.

"We have guests, and you just leave without a word?" His voice was tight. "Where are your manners, Jenny?"

"Guests?" Jenny repeated flatly. "I'm more of a guest than they are. If I'd walked over and joined your cozy family meal, you'd be angry at me for intruding."

Edward's frown deepened. "If you're angry that I moved them in without your permission, fine. I can accept that. But this bitterness, this petty, self-righteous attitude of yours, I won't stand for it. Don't speak to me in that tone again."

"Stand for it or not. What difference does it make? You've never liked me at all," Jenny shot back.

"Jenny—" The name was barely out of his mouth when the line went dead. Edward stood frozen, phone pressed to his ear, the dial tone droning into the silence.

He couldn't believe it. She'd hung up on him. He pulled the phone from his ear and checked the screen, as if to confirm what he already knew. Call ended. She'd actually done it.

"Edward." The voice came from behind him. He turned and saw Ann standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with concern.

"How are things with you and Ms. Grant? Is everything all right?" she asked.

Edward cleared his expression and smiled at Ann. "It's nothing. She's just sulking. She probably went to see a friend. Don't worry about her. Let's finish breakfast."

Ann had just lost her husband, and she was raising a child on her own. He'd asked her to stay here for shelter, not to get dragged into the mess between him and Jenny. He wouldn't let that happen.

"She needs soothing, you know. Girls do." Ann smiled, taking his arm and guiding him back toward the dining table. "But first, finish your breakfast. It won't taste good once it gets cold."

Edward followed her pull without resistance. "Okay."

*****

Jenny sat in the back of the taxi, her phone held tight between her damp palms. For the first time in three years, she'd hung up on Edward.

Edward was always busy, always traveling. He hated being interrupted at work, so Jenny had learned to keep her distance. She'd send him little reminders instead: Wear a coat, it's cold out. Eat something, your stomach will act up.

He rarely called. But when he did, she could never bring herself to hang up. She'd stay on the line, listening, trying to make his voice last a little longer.

But now his voice only reminded her of how gently he spoke to Ann, how fiercely he defended her. Jenny's eyes dimmed. Before she could sink any deeper into the hurt, the taxi pulled up to Sylvia's apartment complex.

She got out of the car and heard Sylvia calling her from a distance. "Jenny!"

Jenny turned toward the voice and saw Sylvia waving wildly. She managed a smile and walked over.

Sylvia rushed up and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward her apartment. "Okay, spill. What happened yesterday? You barely answered any of my texts. You have to tell me now."

Jenny pressed her lips together. "Let's get inside first."

Sylvia wasn't going to push. But the worry on her face was plain. "Okay," she said.

At the door, Sylvia pressed her thumb to the lock, and it beeped open. They stepped inside together.

Jenny sank onto the couch. Sylvia disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a cold bottle, pressing it into Jenny's hands. "Okay. Now talk."

Jenny looked at Sylvia,her mouth opening and then closing. Her hand unconsciously moved to rest on her belly. "Sylvia." She drew a deep breath, as if steeling herself. "I'm pregnant. But Edward already has a child with someone else."

Chapter 8 Being Ridiculous

"What?" Sylvia's brain short-circuited. Two bombshells, dropped at the same time. "Hold on. Give me a second. I need to process this."

It took a good ten seconds for the words to sink in. Sylvia's gaze dropped to Jenny's stomach, still flat under her shirt.

"So you're pregnant? And Edward already has a child with another woman? You mean that woman we ran into at the mall yesterday?" she asked.

Jenny gave a small nod, her whole demeanor sinking. "Yes," she said.

Sylvia sat down beside her and took her hand. "Edward doesn't seem like the cheating type. Could there be some kind of misunderstanding?"

Jenny's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "I wish it was a misunderstanding." But the truth was the truth. And regardless of whether there was a misunderstanding or not, she knew Edward. He would never go this far for someone who didn't matter to him.

"Okay." Sylvia fixed her with a serious look. "Tell me everything. What happened?"

Jenny laid it all out. The birthday. The moving in. All of it. By the time she finished, tears glistened in her eyes. "In three years of marriage, he's never spoken to me the way he speaks to her. He's never taken me shopping.

"The way he treats Ann is so different, so special. Just seeing them together makes my heart ache."

"Alright, alright." Sylvia slid closer and wrapped an arm around Jenny, rubbing her back. "From everything you've described, Edward's being a complete ass.

"But think about it. A man like Edward, if he had a mistress and a secret child, why would he suddenly bring them out in the open now? It doesn't add up. Maybe there's more to this.

"I think you should talk to him. Have a real conversation. And tell him about the baby. This child is his too. You shouldn't have to carry this alone."

Jenny hesitated. "But—"

"Jenny." Sylvia cut her off. "Look at me."

Jenny lifted her eyes and met Sylvia's gaze.

"Forget everything else," Sylvia said. "You've loved this man for years. You've given him three years of your life. Are you really going to just give that up and let another woman walk away with him?"

Jenny pressed her nails into her palm. It was true. The years, the effort, the sheer endurance she'd poured into this marriage were real. Throwing it all away felt wrong. She wasn't ready to let go.

"Have a real conversation with him, for both your sakes," Sylvia spoke like she was reading Jenny's own thoughts back to her. "If things don't go well, we'll figure out what to do next. There's still time."

*****

On her way back, her phone buzzed with a message from her father. [The deal's done. Jenny, you've always kept things to yourself. I don't know what's happened between you and Edward, but don't let yourself be treated badly on my account.

[If you're unhappy in that house, come home. I can take care of you.]

A tear splashed onto the screen. Jenny tilted her head back and pressed the back of her hand to her eyes. When she looked down again, the tears were gone, forced back inside.

Her thumbs hovered, then tapped out a reply, [I know. Thanks, Dad.]

*****

The taxi pulled up to the house. Jenny stepped out and walked slowly toward the door. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she could see Edward with Sophie in his lap, working on a puzzle. Ann sat nearby, leaning in now and then to add a piece.

The scene was so warm it stung. Jenny's feet wouldn't move forward. The urge to retreat tugged at her. Talking about it now felt pointless. There was nothing left to say.

But she'd loved him too long. She'd married him despite the whispers that she was after his money. And the last three years weren't nothing: the way he'd held her in bed, the moments of unexpected softness.

She didn't want to give up. She needed to talk to him, at least one more time, if only to give meaning to all those years of love and everything she'd poured into this marriage.

Jenny steeled herself and walked inside. Then she heard the sound of laughter and cheerful chatter. "Edward, you're so good. I like you."

Edward chuckled softly. "Edward likes Sophie too."

Sophie threw her arms around his neck. "But you're with Jenny. If you and Jenny have a baby, you won't like me anymore." Big tears rolled down her cheeks. "I don't want that. I already lost my daddy. I don't want to lose you too."

Edward pulled out a tissue and wiped her face. "That's not going to happen. I'm not having any babies right now. Don't cry."

But Sophie was too deep in her own grief to hear him.

"Why don't I have a daddy anymore? Mommy's taking me to school soon. Will the other kids make fun of me for not having a daddy? Will they not want to play with me?" she wailed.

The words hit Edward hard. He pulled Sophie into his arms. "Who says you don't have a daddy? I'm your daddy. Any kid at school gives you trouble, you come straight to me. I'll take care of it."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Sophie broke into a huge smile, her eyes squeezed into joyful slits. "Yay! I'm not scared anymore. You're the best, Edward!"

Edward watched her smile and let out a quiet breath.

Not far away, Jenny heard every word. After that, the voices blurred into a dull roar, like water rushing into her ears. Her chest tightened. She couldn't breathe. A cold weight pressed down on her, and she felt like she was drowning.

Jenny doubled over, hand pressed to her chest, gasping. She needed air. Needed to push the cold, heavy feeling out of her lungs.

Sophie wasn't even his daughter, and he was ready to play daddy. He didn't care whose child she was, only that she belonged to Ann. That said everything. What Edward felt for Ann, he poured into her child.

And by the same logic, the reverse was just as true. He didn't love Jenny. A baby wouldn't change that. He wouldn't care. Even if it was his own.

Jenny bit down on her lip, her mind suddenly, perfectly clear. There was nothing left to talk about. She wanted a divorce. She had to get out of this marriage.

"Mrs. Blake!" Just then, Mary came out of the kitchen and spotted Jenny by the doorway. One look at her ashen face and trembling frame, and her voice filled with concern. "What's the matter? Are you all right?"

Jenny forced her mouth to work. "I'm fine." Her voice was barely a whisper. She didn't want anyone seeing her like this. She turned and hurried toward the stairs.

Edward heard the sound. He glanced over. Jenny was already on the stairs, moving fast, like she was trying to escape.

'She was being ridiculous.' Edward thought, 'We're all sitting right here, and she walked past without a word.'

He set Sophie down with a frown and crossed the room in a few long strides. He caught her on the stairs, his hand closing around her wrist and pulling her to a stop. "Jenny."

"Let go of me!" Her voice was loud, but a sob broke through the end of it.

Edward's frown deepened. Seeing that Jenny kept her head down stubbornly, he caught her chin with his other hand and tilted her face up. When he met her red, tearful eyes, he froze. "Who hurt you?" he asked.