With a light chuckle, the woman replied, “He’s a wonderful person.”
As they reached the top of the stairs, the woman’s lips curved into a delicate smile.
“My lover’s name is Harry.”
“What—?”
Before Fiona could react, something struck her shoulder, and her body was suddenly airborne.
Pain shot through her as she hit the ground.
(Ow! It hurts!)
Fiona endured the excruciating pain in silence, barely able to make a sound, as she desperately stroked her belly. Her body was no longer hers alone—she had to protect the child within her. Despite her determination, the pain only intensified.
(I don’t want this.)
What had gone wrong? How had things come to this? Her mind, clouded by confusion and distress, could not grasp the situation. Yet amidst her tear-blurred vision, one thing stood out vividly: the triumphant smile of that woman.
“Fiona!”
When she came to, Fiona found herself lying in her bed at home. Surrounding her were her husband, Harry, several servants, and a man in a white coat she did not recognize.
“Harry, I…”
As she muttered softly, a dull pain in her abdomen caught her attention, followed by a crushing sense of loss that overwhelmed her. Tears began to flow uncontrollably.
“Ugh… ugh…”
Fiona knew. She could feel it. The baby was no longer inside her.
“I regret to inform you,” the man in the white coat began, “but it will be very difficult for you to conceive again.”
“No…!” Harry’s voice rang out in anguish.
“Doctor, isn’t there anything that can be done?”
“I’m sorry, but this is beyond our control.”
Above her, a merciless conversation unfolded. Fiona, clutching her now-empty belly, continued to weep silently.
“I want a divorce.”
It was only a few days later that Harry broached the subject. Fiona stared at him with hollow eyes, unable to find the words to respond.
“I truly feel sorry for you,” he said. “But… I can’t continue this marriage if we can’t have children.”
A sharp pain stabbed through Fiona’s chest.
“So, you’ll divorce me… and marry that strawberry-blonde woman instead?”
“What?”
Harry’s face betrayed his panic as Fiona questioned him.
She had known about his affair for some time but had chosen neither to identify the other woman nor to confront Harry. She had been unwilling to disturb the fragile peace of their marriage.
But now, with divorce looming, there was no reason to remain silent.
As she recalled the woman she had met the day she lost her child, tears streamed quietly down Fiona’s face.
“How… how do you know about her? Listen, Fiona, I wanted to work things out with you. I was happy when you got pregnant, and I wanted to make you happy. That’s why I intended to end things with her. But then… this happened…”
“I see.”
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