I’d loved Julian Vance for ten years. I’d pulled every trick in the book, even driving away the woman he truly loved, just to marry him. Six years into our marriage, Julian had slept with pretty much every woman who crossed his path. But no matter how much he hurt me, I never thought of leaving. Not until I was huge with child, and walked in on him bringing a woman home, making love right there in our bed. I broke down, demanding answers. He just looked at me, a mocking smirk on his face. “Clara, don’t forget what you promised when we got married. You said you wouldn’t interfere with my private life, as long as you got to marry me. If you feel like you’re losing out, go find another man yourself.” He casually glanced at my swollen belly, his voice dripping with venom. “Just remember to use protection. Don’t go dirtying the Vance family’s child in your womb.” My emotions completely shattered. I lunged at him, but he coldly pushed me away. I tumbled down the stairs, losing both myself and my baby. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I caught him bringing that woman home. This time, I decided to let go of my decade-long obsession. I’d set Julian free, and finally, myself.
I’d just found out I was having a daughter. Excitedly, I rushed home with a huge bag full of pink baby items from the store, wanting to surprise Julian. And it certainly was a huge “surprise.” There was a faint, lingering scent of perfume in the house, not overpowering, but undeniably intimate. It meant another woman was here. My sense of smell was super sensitive because of the pregnancy, and perfume made me sick. I climbed the stairs, step by painful step, noticing clothes scattered along the way. Men’s ties and dress pants, women’s lingerie and a slip dress. They were entangled intimately, leading all the way to our master bedroom, the door slightly ajar. Listening to the sickening sounds coming from inside, my heart clenched in agony. I took a deep breath, my fingernails digging into my palms. Looking down, I saw the shopping bags I’d just bought had slipped from my grasp, scattered at my feet. They lay mixed with the clothes on the floor, a scene of utter devastation. The sight before me made me fully realize that I had been reborn. In my last life, I impulsively burst through that door, fought with those two disgusting people, and ultimately died, filled with bitter resentment, taking my unborn child with me. This time, I just slowly made my way downstairs, steadying myself against the wall. I sat quietly on the sofa and waited. I don’t know how long passed until Julian finally appeared, wrapped in a bathrobe, the lingering scent of their passion clinging to him. It made my stomach churn. He watched me, expressionless, as I kept gagging. “Do you have a guest over?” I wiped the corner of my mouth, my voice surprisingly calm, without a single tremor. Julian nodded nonchalantly, calmly walking towards me, step by step. I stood up, holding my belly, and took a step back, continuing, “And this guest is currently in our room?” Julian froze for a moment, probably surprised that this time, catching him red-handed, I wasn’t having a meltdown like the countless times before. But he still nodded, and just as he was about to speak, a woman descended the stairs barefoot, casually draped in my silk nightgown. I recognized her instantly: Serena Beaumont, the lead actress from the hit show I was just watching last night. She looped her arm through Julian’s, her eyes gleaming seductively. “Mr. Vance, who is this…?” As she spoke, she deliberately flaunted the visible marks of their passion on her chest. Julian reached out, wrapping an arm around Serena, and provocatively squeezed her soft curves, making the actress gasp playfully in his embrace. “Oh, she’s my wife…” Serena covered her mouth, her almond eyes wide with feigned surprise, her voice trembling dramatically. “Oh? You’re so naughty, why didn’t you tell me your wife was coming back…?” Julian kissed her neck, a lecherous grin on his face. “What’s there to be scared of? Isn’t this more exciting? Besides—” He looked at me with a sneer. “Mrs. Vance, didn’t we agree long ago that this marriage was a mutual arrangement, and we wouldn’t interfere with each other’s lives?” “These six years, you haven’t exactly lost out. I’ve been more than generous to your family.” He wasn’t wrong. If not for the two hundred million he gave us when we got engaged, my family’s business would have collapsed long ago. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry, I seem to have interrupted you.” I opened the door and walked out, step by painful step. It was as if he sensed that I was walking out of his life forever. “Wait!” Julian called out, his voice shaking. I didn’t turn back. I didn’t say goodbye. Julian, I won’t wait for you anymore.
I trudged for what felt like ages with my heavy belly until I finally made it out of the gated community and flagged down a taxi. Opening the car door, I turned for one last look. This ending, perhaps, was the best for me. At least I wouldn’t end up like in my last life, throwing my life away to fight for a man who never loved me. I couldn’t go back to my parents’ house, so I headed to my small apartment, the one I owned before marriage. I threw all the bed sheets and duvet covers into the washing machine, then thoroughly cleaned the tables and floors, not missing a single corner or crevice. Finally, when everything was done, I realized it was already the middle of the night. A dull, cramping pain spread through my belly. I curled up in bed, hugging a pillow, and suddenly felt so utterly exhausted. My face felt strangely cool and damp. I reached up and realized it was wet with tears. All tears. Ten years of agonizing love, ending so abruptly. My heart ached. I wrestled with the decision of whether to keep the baby, lying awake through the night. But Julian? He was fully immersed in Serena Beaumont’s embrace, completely forgetting himself. The popular actress had been subtly flaunting their happiness on social media recently – candlelit dinners, expensive jewelry, designer bags… The backdrop of the photos and videos was all too familiar: my own marital home. One photo even showed the tall, handsome figure of a man cooking dinner, reflected in the glass window. That picture had sent her fans into a frenzy of delight. And it had left me in a daze for a long, long time. The man who once wouldn’t even pour me a glass of water when I had a high fever was now willing to cook a meal for another woman. A week later, on Monday, the day of the Vance Group board meeting. I used the opportunity to return to the villa. I quickly packed my bags, grabbed my documents, and headed downstairs. But I ran straight into Julian, who had rushed back. Seeing the things in my hands, he suddenly sneered, snatched my luggage, and threw it away. I frowned, looking at him. “What are you doing?” “Clara, I should be asking you that! Are you seriously pulling the ‘running away from home’ card now? What’s next? Are you going to throw a fit and threaten suicide like old times?” Julian’s brows were tightly furrowed, his face filled with disgust as he reprimanded me. “Why would I kill myself?” I scoffed, clutching the stair banister tightly. My past self was indeed foolish, resorting to threatening my life repeatedly to win him back. But after experiencing that last life, I understood that living was the most important thing. I never wanted to experience that kind of desperate, life-or-death feeling again. Besides, a man so heartless and devoid of loyalty like Julian was simply not worth my lingering affection. Julian sneered, his eyes filled with disdain. “What new trick is this? I’m busy. I don’t have time for your games.” “Your little stunts, they might work once or twice, but too many times and it’s just the ‘boy who cried wolf’ story.” I looked directly at Julian, explaining calmly, “You’re overthinking it. I’m here to pack my things and move out.” “Julian, let’s get a divorce.” Julian was uncharacteristically stunned, then looked at me with even greater impatience. “Divorce? You’re carrying my child, and you’re bringing up divorce now?” I didn’t answer him. I carefully walked downstairs, took out the pre-prepared divorce papers from my bag, and handed them to him. “Yes, I want a divorce.” “I don’t want anything from the Vance family. I just want to separate from you.” Julian and I had been married for six years, but apart from the upkeep of this villa, he hadn’t spent any money on me. To outsiders, I was the glamorous Mrs. Vance, but only I knew that every penny I spent came from my part-time novel writing. Since I hadn’t spent Julian’s money, I had no desire for any financial ties with him now that we were divorcing. Julian quickly scanned the document, his expression unchanged, and set it aside. A scoff escaped his throat, the sound like an ice shard piercing my heart. “Leaving with nothing? Clara, you’re thirty. Are you still this naive?” He casually tossed the divorce papers onto the coffee table, then suddenly rose and advanced on me, his shadow completely enveloping me. “Without the Vance family backing you, do you really think your father and brother have what it takes to survive in the business world?” “After a divorce, what will your family rely on to maintain your current lavish lifestyle?” I leaned back, avoiding his closeness, the swirling emotions beneath my eyelashes freezing into a cold frost. I stubbornly pressed my lips together. “Julian, even if you use my family as leverage, you can’t keep me trapped anymore.” As if stunned by the resolve in my eyes, Julian retreated, his features growing even colder. “Why?” He paused, then conceded, “Is it because I brought someone home and made you uncomfortable? I’m sorry, I was wrong this time. I promise I won’t let them appear in front of you again.” My nails dug into my palms. For the first time, I smiled openly and freely. “No need, Julian.” “For six years, I’ve had enough of your emotional torment and abuse. I’ve had enough of waiting day after day for a man whose heart was never truly with me.” I suddenly yanked off the only piece of jewelry he’d ever given me – a simple string of beads. The round beads clattered onto the carpet. “Even if it means my whole family has to bus tables and sweep streets, I will never be your puppet again.”
Julian, unable to suppress his rage, slammed the door and left. I thought a man of his pride would contact me within a few days to finalize the paperwork and kick me out. Instead, the first call I received was from my mother. She sounded delighted on the phone: “Clara, your husband just sent me a whole new season of designer clothes and bags! He bought your brother a new sports car, and even let your father develop that land in South City!” “Your father is beaming, saying you’re such a thoughtful daughter, knowing how to keep the Vance family’s golden goose happy.” “Clara, you truly are amazing. When I go out with the other wealthy ladies now, everyone compliments me on my good fortune, having such a wonderful daughter marry into the Vance family.” A wave of sorrow washed over me. It seemed my value as a “good daughter” was merely to marry into wealth and appease my unloving husband for my family’s benefit. Suppressing my anger, I told my mother, “Don’t accept anything from Julian Vance anymore. We’re getting a divorce.” I couldn’t hide the hurt as I explained that Julian didn’t love me, that he had always resented me for driving away his first love, and had been retaliating with a constant parade of women for years. But my mother was unconcerned. “Don’t throw a tantrum. Julian is a man of his stature and power; it’s perfectly normal for men like him to have a few women around.” “Be more understanding! Keeping your position as Mrs. Vance is what matters most!” “Besides, you’re pregnant now. If it’s a boy, who could possibly shake your position in the Vance family? If it’s a girl, then just try harder, get pregnant again soon.” My mother’s words reduced me to tears. I sobbed, asking her, “Mom, for the sake of the Hayes family’s prosperity, you forced me to marry Julian. Now you want me to use my child as a patch for this marriage?” “But Mom, I loved Julian for ten years! I truly can’t accept him constantly having other women!” Hanging up the phone, I went straight to Julian’s company. Seeing me, he showed no surprise. He leaned back in his leather office chair, casually twirling a pen, his dark tie making his features appear noble yet even colder. “Come to apologize?” “This time, seeing as you’re pregnant, I’ll forgive you. Don’t mention divorce again, just go home and be my dutiful Mrs. Vance.” He pulled out a card and slid it across the desk. “There’s five million in here, for your troubles.” I didn’t take the card, just looked at him calmly. “Julian Vance, you don’t love me, you even despise me. Isn’t it better if I just give up the position of Mrs. Vance now?” Julian snapped, “You don’t need to compete with those other women. I can tell you very clearly: after breaking up with Chloe, I won’t ever fall in love with anyone else, and no one can shake your position.” “You should understand that maintaining the status quo is the best outcome for both of us. You shouldn’t hope for love from me.” He paused, then added, “If you have any other demands, feel free to make them.” His pathetic act disgusted me. On one hand, he played the heartbroken romantic who couldn’t forget his first love, while on the other, he was constantly entangled with different women. Like a terrible actor, he’d kept up this charade of deep affection for so many years. I looked at Julian with cold detachment, stating calmly, “No need, Julian. I just want a divorce.” “That’s my only demand.” The air in the entire office froze. Julian’s obsidian-like eyes churned with a chilling, oppressive force. After a long moment, he picked up the divorce papers and quickly signed them. “Fine. As you wish. We’re getting a divorce.” A wave of relief washed over me. I carefully put away the signed papers. I smiled at him, genuinely. “Julian, thank you.” Thank you for making me realize that a love so fervent can twist into a blade, stabbing you right in the heart.
After leaving Vance Industries, I went straight to the hospital where I’d had my prenatal check-ups to schedule an abortion. The doctor repeatedly asked me to confirm, emphasizing that the baby was already six months old and perfectly healthy, questioning if I was absolutely certain about the procedure. My heart felt as though it was being pierced by countless tiny needles. I clenched my fingers tightly, my knuckles white from the strain. How could I not want this child? But I absolutely refused to bring a child into the world only for them to be used as a bargaining chip. Better a quick, painful end than prolonged suffering. I signed the consent form for the surgery. The next morning. I arrived at the private hospital alone for the procedure. I bumped into Julian, carefully escorting Serena Beaumont, whose stomach was still flat. Seeing me, Julian’s expression faltered for a moment, then quickly became impassive. He said faintly, “After your check-up, hurry home. You’re so far along, don’t wander around too much.” With that, he shifted his gaze and began to walk away, protecting Serena. But Serena suddenly spoke in a coy voice, “Darling, I left my daily vitamins in the car. Could you please fetch them for me?” Julian, unsuspecting, intimately stroked her hair and then turned to leave. Serena chuckled softly, then approached me. “What a coincidence, you’re also here for a prenatal check-up?” The word “also” was cleverly placed. No wonder Julian had agreed to the divorce so readily – he was giving his mistress a legitimate title. But now, I truly didn’t care. I walked past Serena, not intending to speak with her. She blocked my path, continuing her taunt, “Based on all the baby things you prepared at home, you’re having a girl, aren’t you?” “I already went to Hong Kong for a blood test. It’s a boy.” “Oh, right. Julian said the nursery you decorated at home should be for our son. You don’t mind, do you?” “And all those little girl dresses you bought, they were taking up too much space. I found them an eyesore, so I burned them all yesterday. You probably don’t need them anymore anyway—” Her sweet, mocking smile stung my eyes. Before she could finish, my palm connected with a resounding slap across her carefully made-up face. Serena stumbled, grabbing the wall for support, but her fierce glare instantly filled with tears. The next second— “Are you insane?!” Julian tore my wrist from her with immense force. I staggered backward, my back slamming hard against the fire extinguisher on the wall. The metal edges dug into my spine, sending a jolt of pain through me. The intense pain made white lights explode in my vision. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor, clutching my belly. Julian didn’t even glance at my pathetic state. He carefully helped Serena to her feet, then turned to glare at me. “Clara, you’re the one who wanted a divorce! What are you doing, acting all jealous now?” “Serena is pregnant! If anything happens to her, I’ll make your whole family pay!” “Julian.” I tried to push myself up against the wall, but the pain made my vision swim. “Control your pampered mistress—” Serena suddenly began to cough violently, her pale fingers clutching Julian’s sleeve. “Julian, I just wanted to ask about her health…” “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Julian picked Serena up. “Clara, you’re free. Tomorrow morning at ten, we’ll go finalize the divorce.” His voice was cold as ice, and he didn’t spare a single extra glance for me, curled up against the wall. Just then, the piercing sound of the hospital intercom blared through the corridor: “Patient Clara, operating room number 2 is ready. Please proceed immediately for surgery!” Julian naturally heard the announcement. He looked up at my name scrolling across the screen, his Adam’s apple bobbed twice, and his gaze instinctively swept towards me. But he ultimately carried Serena away, their figures disappearing down the hall. I pushed myself up and stumbled into the operating room, signing the pre-operative consent form. Lying on the operating table, the doctor confirmed with me again. “Ms. Hayes, the baby is already 6 months old. It could survive if born now. Are you sure you want to proceed with the induction?” The baby in my womb suddenly moved violently, as if protesting the impending farewell. My nose stung, and tears finally fell uncontrollably, dropping onto the cold operating table. “I’m sure.” Just as the anesthetic was about to be injected into my veins, urgent footsteps suddenly echoed from the corridor outside…
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