It was the ninth year of our marriage. That’s when I learned my husband had given the son I bore to his first love to raise. By the time I found out, my child was already seven years old. He desperately needed to be registered for elementary school. My husband, his face a mask of guilt, proposed a sham divorce. “It was a difficult situation back then,” he explained. “Sera couldn’t have children, and her in-laws were making her life hell.” “Don’t worry,” he assured me. “As soon as Sebastian is enrolled, we’ll get remarried immediately.” I looked at my son, who stared back at me with pure hatred in his eyes. My heart felt like a wasteland of ash. I nodded numbly and signed the divorce papers. While they were joyfully signing their marriage certificate, I was alone, boarding a one-way flight to the other side of the world. This family, this life⌠I was done with it. 1 Walking out of the divorce registry office that day, Alexander suddenly stopped. His voice was hesitant. “Olivia, Sera and I are about to get our marriage license. If you’d feel awkward being there, you can go home and wait for us.” He continued, oblivious. “We can all have a big family dinner tonight to celebrate. Oh, and by the way, Sera and Sebastian both love your crab risotto. It’s both of their birthdays today, so make a big batch. It will help lighten the mood.” I froze for a few seconds. Seraphina and the Blackwood family’s “reunion dinner” required me, the ex-wife, to personally cook for them? But I was too tired to argue. I just muttered, “Okay. You guys do your thing. I’m heading home.” A look of relief washed over Alexander’s face. Just as I turned to leave, a small figure came sprinting from the marriage registry entrance, throwing himself into Alexander’s arms. “Daddy, Daddy, we’re here!” “Daddy, does this mean I get to see you every day now?” “Will I be like the other kids, with both my mom and dad at the school sports day?” Alexander smiled, answering each of his son’s questions with endless patience. His voice, usually cool and distant, was now as gentle as a spring breeze. I was leaving that afternoon. But I couldn’t help myself. That innocent, childish voice drew me in. I turned back for one last look at the child I had nearly died giving birth to seven years ago. Sebastian and Alexander stood hand in hand. The boy was a miniature version of his father, the same aristocratic features, the same handsome pout. Passersby couldn’t help but stare. Seraphina, a soft smile on her lips, glided over to them. She was wearing a simple, elegant sheath dress that resembled a wedding gown, perfectly fitting for the occasion while accentuating her slender figure. It was only then that I noticed Alexander was wearing a brand-new, custom-tailored suit. It matched her dress perfectly. Standing together, they looked like the perfect couple. Alexander was gazing at Seraphina, a look of longing in his eyes. Was he regretting all the years they had lost? Sebastian took Seraphina’s hand, placing himself between his mother and father. He beamed, his eyes crinkling into happy slits. A perfect family portrait. My husband. My son. And me, standing alone, the most superfluous person in the world. A bitter taste filled my mouth. My heart felt like it was being carved by a thousand knives, a pain with no escape. I forced myself to turn away, to just leave. But in the next second, a pair of small hands shoved me hard from behind, and I stumbled forward. 2 “You horrible woman, why are you still bothering my daddy?” “My daddy is marrying my mommy! Can’t you just get lost? Stop trying to be the other woman!” The child’s voice was loud, echoing through the entire registry hall. Instantly, dozens of eyes were on me. My face burned with shame. I wished the ground would swallow me whole. The absurdity of it all was almost laughable. I remembered screaming at Alexander, crying until I was hoarse. We were the legally married couple. Why was I the one who had to agree to a sham divorce? Why couldn’t I just bring Sebastian home and raise him myself? The Blackwood family could buy ten schools if they wanted to. Was enrolling one child really so difficult? His explanation at the time was cold and logical. “Sebastian is stubborn. He refuses to be registered under your name. He only accepts Seraphina as his mother.” “And Sera insists on sending him to a public school, to build character, to teach him the value of hard work.” He had ended the conversation with a frown and a rebuke. “Olivia, Seraphina isn’t his biological mother, yet she’s thinking about his long-term future. You should be doing the same, not getting lost in your own emotions. That’s what being a real mother is about.” His words had left me stunned. Thinking about his future? Did he think I didn’t want to? My child was taken from me the moment he was born. I never even got to see his face. Everyone told me he was stillborn. I didn’t even know who to cry to. Who had ever given me a chance to be his mother? And now, because I wouldn’t play along with their ridiculous charade, I was the one not thinking of my child? I was the “other woman”? “Sebastian, what are you saying? You do not speak to your mother Olivia like that!” Alexander’s voice was sharp, reprimanding. “Stop watching those trashy videos online! One more word like that and I’m taking your phone away!” he warned, his brow furrowed in anger. Seraphina quickly pulled Sebastian behind her, acting as if she feared I might strike the child. She bowed her head to me in a flurry of apologies. “I’m so sorry, Olivia. He’s just a child, he doesn’t understand what he’s saying. Please, I apologize on his behalf. Don’t hold it against him.” She bowed again and again, her posture one of utter humility. As if I were the unreasonable monster, bullying my own son. The once proud and arrogant socialite of the city was now debasing herself for her child. Her maternal devotion was truly touching. And, as expected, Alexander couldn’t bear to watch it. His anger melted into pity. He coughed, then turned to me with a frown. “Olivia, be more gracious. It’s a happy day. There’s no need to make things difficult for Sera.” I almost laughed out loud. I hadn’t said a single word, yet I was the one making things difficult. It seemed that when a person’s heart is biased, their eyes become selectively blind. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but another voice, powerful and resonant, cut me off. “Seraphina, who told you to apologize to her? I’d like to see who dares demand an apology from my grandson!” 3 Alexander’s mother, clutching a two-hundred-thousand-dollar designer handbag, strode over with an air of regal authority. She swept Sebastian into her arms, protectively shielding him. The grandmother and grandson stood united, glaring at me as if I were the enemy. A bitter smile touched my lips. Of course. The Blackwood family placed immense importance on their lineage, yet they had tolerated me, a barren wife, for nine years. Now I understood why. They had their heir all along. The irony was crushing. During childbirth, I had hemorrhaged so badly that I lost the ability to ever have another child. My mother-in-law knew the truth, yet she never missed an opportunity to use it against me, to humiliate me in front of the entire family. She would say I couldn’t even produce a son, that I wasn’t a real woman, and certainly not worthy of a man like Alexander. Whenever this happened, Alexander would just frown and walk away, never once defending me. Later, he would hold me and whisper reassurances. “Mom is just desperate for a grandchild. She doesn’t mean what she says. Don’t take it to heart.” “All I need is you. I don’t care if we have children or not. Your happiness is the only thing that matters to me.” At the time, I was so moved by his sincerity. I gradually let go of my longing for a child. But seven years later, they suddenly told me that my child was alive. A child who was now so big, a child who refused to accept me. What could I do? I closed my eyes, unable to look at them any longer. As I took a step to leave, Alexander called out to me again. “Olivia.” “Go home and wait for us. We’ll be quick.” I didn’t stop. I walked straight towards the exit. Behind me, I heard my mother-in-law muttering in disapproval. “Wait for what? Tonight is a Blackwood family reunion. It’s not appropriate for an outsider, a divorced woman, to be there. Besides, Sebastian doesn’t want to see her. It’s his birthday, let the boy be happy for once.” My pace quickened until I was practically running, fleeing the hall as if escaping a prison. 4 Outside, the sun was bright. It was a perfect day for a long journey. I took a deep breath, the tightness in my chest finally easing. A divorce. It wasn’t the end of the world. No one knew I was leaving. Except for my best friend, Lily. The Blackwood family had become so powerful that even my own family, the Warrens, had to tread carefully around them. If they knew I was planning to leave, they would surely try to stop me. Lily wrestled my three enormous suitcases through the airport, helping me with everything. “Olivia,” she said, her voice fierce, “you take care of yourself over there. Don’t you dare let those two heartless bastards make you miserable.” “And I swear, I will never tell a soul where you’ve gone.” She cursed Alexander for a long time before giving me a final command. “You hear me? You go out there and be goddamn happy!” Then she turned and ran, before I could see the tears welling in her eyes. My own tears had already started to fall, a silent, unstoppable stream. Happiness. What a luxurious word. Perhaps only my dearest friend, the one who had stood by me all these years, could see how truly unhappy I was. When I first met Alexander at seventeen, it was love at first sight. I thought I had found happiness. When we met again while studying abroad in Europe at eighteen, I was sure it was happiness. When I married him without a second thought at twenty-two, I believed it was a lifetime of happiness. When I went through hell to get pregnant and give birth to his child at twenty-three, I thought heaven itself had blessed me with a life so perfectly, completely happy. But looking back at my nine years of marriage, it was all just a beautiful, fragile bubble. That happiness was never real. It was a fantasy I had created. From the very beginning, Seraphina was the only one who mattered to Alexander. Even after she married someone else, even after he had a wife of his own. He was even willing to give her our son, the child I had given birth to, to raise as her own. I was a fool. A pitiful, naive fool. I don’t know how long I cried. It was only when the final boarding call announcement came that I managed to pull myself together. My phone suddenly lit up with several notifications. A string of messages from Alexander. 5 [Olivia, sorry, we’re running a bit late here. Dinner might have to be pushed back.] [By the way, you don’t need to get a birthday cake for Sera and Sebastian. Sera says Sebastian is picky and will only eat the cake she bakes for him every year.] [Just didn’t want you to go to the trouble and be disappointed.] I stared at the screen, unable to reply. A moment later, perhaps sensing my silence, he sent two more messages. [Don’t overthink it. Sera promised she’s not trying to take Sebastian from you.] [It just takes time to build a relationship with a child. We’ll take it slow, okay?] I still didn’t know what to say. There was nothing left to “take slow.” After so many disappointments, I had no more hope left to give. I wasn’t a stranger to Sebastian. When he was just a few months old, Seraphina would often bring him to the Blackwood estate for visits, under the guise of old family friends. I would see him then. As a baby, he would even gurgle and smile at me. But as he grew older, his reaction changed. He would look at me with fear and avoidance. And then, it turned to disgust. After Alexander finally told me the truth about his identity, I was frantic. I found my son. I didn’t dare approach him, didn’t dare try to hold him. I just bought him his favorite toy and offered it to him, trying to win him over. He didn’t even glance at it. He snatched it from my hand and threw it straight into the trash can, muttering a curse under his breath. I had never seen such raw hatred in the eyes of a child not yet seven years old. In the days that followed, I fell apart. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong. When Alexander found out how Sebastian was treating me, he scolded him severely. He even sent Seraphina away for a few days, to give me and my son some time alone to bond. In front of the family, Sebastian began to act polite and respectful towards me. But the moment Alexander and his mother left the room, his eyes would turn venomous again. He blamed me for his mother not being able to come home. He even accused me, in front of everyone, of abusing him in private. He claimed I threatened him, told him he had to call me “mom” or I would throw him out of the house. It was such a clumsy lie. A quick look at the security cameras would have revealed the truth. But when the child pulled up his shirt to reveal a series of purple bruises on his small body, and when he cowered in a corner the moment I came near, I had no way to defend myself. I became the villain. Seraphina held Sebastian, crying so hard she nearly fainted. Her words were a desperate plea to me. “Olivia, he’s just a child! Please, give him some more time! I’ll teach him to call you ‘mom,’ I promise! If you’re angry, you can hit me, do whatever you want to me, just please, please stop hurting the child!” My mother-in-law exploded in rage, declaring that I was never to be left alone with Sebastian again. Alexander stood with Seraphina and her son, his voice cold with contempt. “Olivia, I can’t believe you would stoop so low. Hurting your own son just to win some kind of twisted game. You’ve disappointed me more than I can say.” The look of utter disappointment in his eyes stripped me of any will to argue. As they left that day, I saw the triumphant smirk on Sebastian’s face. And in that moment, my heart finally died. I decided to give him what he wanted. To give them all what they wanted. I would cut the ties to my own flesh and blood. I would leave this circus of lies behind. Lost in thought, the tears I had managed to stop began to flow again. The plane was about to take off, and the people around me were starting to stare. I wiped my eyes and took out my phone to check my makeup. Just then, a news alert flashed across the screen. A headline from the financial section. Billionaire CEO of Blackwood Conglomerate and First Love Tie the Knot, Welcoming Home the Next Generation Heir. 6 Underneath the sensational headline was a grand family portrait. Alexander and Seraphina were at the center, surrounded by a crowd of Blackwood relatives. Alexander’s father, a man who was rarely seen in public, was there. Even the patriarch of the family, the elderly Mr. Blackwood, had flown in from his Swiss sanatorium to personally hold Sebastian for the photo. The scene was bustling with joy. Nearly every important member of the Blackwood clan was present. In that instant, it hit me. The entire family had turned out to give Seraphina the grandest possible welcome, to show the world how much they valued Sebastian, their long-lost heir. I remembered my own wedding to Alexander. No family was there. The Blackwood family was on the verge of bankruptcy back then. No one had the time or money for a proper wedding. They had pushed Alexander to marry into my family, the Warrens, to save their company. So, we, two students abroad, had a hasty ceremony in a small chapel in Europe. We didn’t even get our official marriage license until long after we returned home. I was so madly in love with Alexander back then that even that simple ceremony became my most treasured memory for nine years. Now, clutching the cold, hard divorce certificate, all I felt was a bitter, mocking irony. The news article continued to scroll through photos. The lavish banquet celebrating the return of the heir. The jubilant family portraits, looking as if they were celebrating Christmas and New Year’s all at once. The heartwarming moment when Alexander’s parents presented the happy couple with a thick red envelope of cash⌠Suddenly, I stiffened. Among the photos was a candid, close-up shot. In front of the festive “Just Married” backdrop, Alexander was leaning down, gently kissing a beaming Seraphina. You could almost feel the happiness radiating from the screen. My already shattered heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. So this was what Alexander meant by a “sham marriage.” A sham marriage required this level of intimacy. It was never a sham. Seraphina was the daughter-in-law the Blackwood family had always wanted. She was the woman Alexander had never stopped loving, never truly let go of. All along, I was the only fool. My knuckles turned white as I gripped my phone. I was about to force myself to turn it off when a multimedia message came through. It was from an unknown number. A photo of an ultrasound report. The report clearly showed a one-month-old pregnancy. And in the patient name field, in clear, sharp letters, was the name: Seraphina. I stared at it, dumbfounded. Two more messages appeared on the screen. [Olivia, Alex and I are having another baby.] [Alex didn’t want me to tell you, but I have to beg you⌠My two children can’t be without a father. Can you please give Alex back to me?] The blood in my veins turned to ice. I stared at the words, unable to process them, unable to react. One month? A month ago, Alexander was on a business trip, handling the IPO of a subsidiary. He told me he was swamped with work, so busy he barely had time to breathe. It was the only time in our marriage he had gone three consecutive days without video-calling me. It wasn’t that he didn’t have time. It was that he had company. And it wasn’t convenient. The bitter irony was that when I had questioned his plan to marry Seraphina, he had gotten angry, accusing me of having a “dirty mind.” “Our relationship is completely platonic, Olivia. It’s a good thing Sebastian was raised by her, otherwise who knows how you would have twisted his mind. If you can’t even trust me on this, then our eight years of marriage have meant nothing.” My throat was dry. I couldn’t breathe. Despair and grief washed over me again, a relentless tide, eating away at the last vestiges of love in my heart. I was numb. The tears wouldn’t even come. Passengers bustled around me, getting ready for takeoff, but I felt like I was in a soundproof bubble. My phone screen went dark, but then it started to vibrate violently, insistently. I stared at the name on the screen: Alexander. I had no strength left to answer. 7 The phone continued to buzz, relentlessly, again and again. After what felt like an eternity, a flight attendant gently reminded me to switch my phone to airplane mode. I fumbled to decline the call, but my trembling fingers accidentally swiped to answer. Alexander’s voice, tinged with apology, came through the line. “Olivia, it looks like we’ll be here a while longer. If you’re hungry, go ahead and eat something. We’ll head home as soon as we’re done.” A bitter laugh almost escaped me. His face was all over the news, and he could still so calmly play the part of the devoted husband. Alexander, how many more lies will you have to tell to cover up the first one? I was silent for a long time, too tired to expose his charade. Finally, I managed to force out a single word. “Okay.” The airport’s pre-flight safety announcement began to play in the background. The sound must have carried through the phone, because Alexander’s tone immediately sharpened with suspicion. “Olivia, are you not at home? It sounds like someone is speaking English.” “I’m home,” I replied calmly. “It’s just the TV.” He seemed to relax. Perhaps my unusually compliant attitude today softened him, because his voice became gentle again. “Olivia, don’t worry. My promise to you still stands. As soon as Sebastian is enrolled in school, we’ll get remarried. Nothing will change.” … I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. Should I ask him if this marriage was real or fake? Should I ask him if he was having another child with Seraphina? At this point, I don’t think even Alexander knew if he was lying to me or to himself. A soft, feminine voice called his name from his end of the line. Without waiting for my reply, Alexander hastily said goodbye and hung up. That was likely the last time we would ever speak. I felt a brief moment of dizziness, then a wave of calm washed over me. Without any hesitation, I turned off my phone, removed the SIM card, and dropped it into a trash bag. Outside the window, the city lights twinkled like distant stars, growing smaller and smaller as we ascended into the night sky. Goodbye, Alexander. Goodbye to the city I once loved with all my heart. Now, there was nothing left for me here. Not a single thing to miss.
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