But before I could tell him the good news, I came home to find Jonathan and Wendy entangled in the living room.

When she saw me, Wendy burst into tears and hid in his arms.

"Mrs. Zander, please don't misunderstand. I was just helping Jonathan relieve some stress."

I was so overwhelmed. I wanted to tell him I was pregnant. That I didn't need anyone else to have a baby for me.

But before the words could leave my lips, a sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen.

The baby that hadn't even had time to be real was gone like that.

Jonathan knew nothing about it. He was disheveled, hugging the sobbing Wendy and roaring at me.

"Daphne, what the fuck is wrong with you? You scared Wendy to tears! You can't even keep a baby. Why don't you just die already?"

"What are you doing here?"

A cold voice pulled me back to reality.

Jonathan had appeared before me without warning. Wendy was clinging to his arm, her baby bump clearly visible.

I stepped back instinctively. "Just finishing my discharge paperwork."

"Daphne, you look so pale," Wendy suddenly chirped, her fingers twirling around his tie.

"Jonathan, let's take her home with us, okay? She just donated blood for me. We should really thank her."

Jonathan pinched Wendy's cheek. "You're so kind-hearted."

Then he turned to me, his expression back to that familiar indifference. "Get in the car. Don't keep Wendy waiting."

I wanted to say no, but I remembered the documents I'd left in the study back at the villa. So, I followed them silently.

Jonathan's usually spotless study now reeked of Wendy's perfume, a cloying sweetness that made me nauseous.

I rummaged through the files, only to find a bulge under one of them on the desk.

I saw a black lace strap when I looked down, the edges stained with suspicious marks.

"Oops!" Wendy, who had followed me into the study, exclaimed. Her cheeks flushed. "H-how is this still in the study?"

Jonathan glanced at me, a cold smirk playing on his lips. "Forgot to clean up."

I lowered my head, suddenly recalling the first year of our marriage when I had secretly placed a homemade lunchbox on his study desk.

He had returned that day in a furious rage, saying I had dirtied his study.

But now, Wendy's girl juice was smeared across his desk and all he did was smile indulgently.