"Sorry."

"Our system shows your husband's legal wife is someone else. She's already opened a maternity file here and is getting ready to give birth."

"Could you double-check whether your husband's ID number was entered wrong?"

Elara Whitfield had come to the hospital glowing with excitement, ready for her prenatal checkup. Instead, she was hit with this out of nowhere and froze on the spot.

"That can't be right, can it? Sebastian Mercer and I have been married for five years. We're doing great. Did your hospital mix something up?"

The nurse looked up at her, her expression weirdly complicated. She parted her lips like she wanted to say more, then swallowed it back.

"There won't be a mistake. The information you provided for this gentleman is all in our system. Half a month ago, he came here with the woman listed as his wife on the marriage certificate. They opened a file here and already did the prenatal exam."

In that instant, Elara felt a loud buzz explode in her head. Her knees went weak, like the ground had suddenly tilted under her feet.

She drew in a hard breath and forced herself to calm down, still insisting in her heart that the hospital had to be wrong.

Sebastian loved her so much. No matter how she thought about it, she just couldn't believe he'd mess around behind her back.

To get pregnant with this child, she'd suffered for three whole years. So many injections her hands had swollen up more than once. She had finally, finally waited for this baby.

Sebastian had been away on a business trip for half a month and still hadn't come back. She had wanted to give him a huge surprise, so she'd kept the pregnancy to herself the whole time.

Who would've thought she'd come in for a prenatal check and run straight into this kind of insane mess?

It had to be a mistake.

She silently gave herself another pep talk.

In a daze, she stepped out of the elevator, planning to go to the civil affairs office first and check whether there was something wrong with her marriage certificate.

But before she'd gone more than a few steps, she saw two figures walking toward her from up ahead.

Instinctively, she slipped behind a pillar to hide. Then she watched, eyes wide, as her husband, Sebastian Mercer, had an arm wrapped around a young woman's waist, his hand gently rubbing her belly with practiced tenderness.

The second Elara saw clearly who that woman was, her eyes turned red on the spot.

It was Lydia Mercer, the daughter of one of Sebastian's business partners. She had just turned twenty this year, a full ten years younger than him.

At that moment, she had both arms looped around the man’s neck, acting like nobody else existed, her voice soft and syrupy as she spoke.

"Honey, who do you think our baby’s gonna look like?"

Sebastian Mercer answered in a voice so gentle it almost made people sick. "Hopefully like you. That way everyone will adore the baby."

The two of them just walked right past Elara Whitfield like that, as if she were air. They didn’t notice her at all.

Elara’s fists clenched so hard her nails were nearly digging into her palms, but weirdly enough, she couldn’t feel a thing.

She had never, not even in her worst nightmares, imagined Sebastian Mercer would pull something like this.

For the past half month, he’d been video calling her every single night, saying how much he missed her, sounding all sincere and affectionate. And then the second he turned around, he was out here accompanying another woman.

Meanwhile, she’d been the biggest joke of all, swallowing every one of his lies without question. For the sake of having his child, she’d endured needle after needle, gritting her teeth through all of it.

Now that she thought about it, the whole thing was absurd. Straight-up ridiculous.

She quietly followed behind them, watching with her own eyes as her so-called husband accompanied the other woman through her prenatal checkup, then left the hospital with her and got into the same car.

Elara needed to know where exactly Sebastian Mercer and Lydia Mercer were going. She needed to know if he had really built another home behind her back.

So she hailed a cab and followed them the whole way.

Sebastian Mercer led Lydia Mercer into a private room at a club.

Elara stood outside the door. From where she was, she could hear the room buzzing with laughter and rowdy voices.

The people talking were all Sebastian Mercer’s usual drinking buddies, that pack of so-called friends who were good for nothing.

"Damn, man, aren’t you two a little too clingy? You’re glued together wherever you go. You’re making the rest of us jealous as hell."

"Seriously, bro, your luck is insane. At home you’ve got obedient, low-maintenance Elara Whitfield, and outside you’ve got Lydia Mercer, sweet-talking and cute. Living with one on each arm like this? Man, we’re all jealous."

Lydia Mercer got embarrassed from the teasing and flushed bright red, then buried herself in Sebastian Mercer’s arms.

Sebastian Mercer wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted his eyes, and shot those two a lazy look. "Alright, alright, cut it out. Stop stirring things up. Yiyi’s shy, don’t tease her."

A year ago, he’d gotten drunk at a dinner party, and in a haze, he ended up sleeping with Lydia Mercer.

Lydia Mercer had been secretly in love with him for years. She clung to him no matter what, and the two of them had stayed tangled up like that the whole time. Then, half a month ago, Lydia got pregnant. To make sure the child wouldn’t be born without a proper title, he went and registered the marriage with her.

As for Elara Whitfield, that marriage certificate between her and Sebastian Mercer had been fake from the very start.

Elara’s health had issues. She couldn’t get pregnant. That alone would never get past his mother, and those old men on the board would never agree to let her sit securely in the position of Mrs. Mercer.

A man with Sebastian Mercer’s status—how could he possibly not want a child to carry on after him?

And Elara, of all people, was stubborn to the core. If he hadn’t used that fake marriage to keep her tied down, there was no way he could have held on to her at all.

The only lucky thing was that in these five years, Elara had never once grown suspicious.

Standing outside the door, Elara felt like someone had stomped hard on her heart. The pain was so sharp she could barely breathe.

So that was the truth.

Sebastian Mercer’s circle of friends had known about Lydia Mercer all along.

From the look of it, Sebastian Mercer had brought Lydia Mercer around plenty of times before, openly introducing her to people.

And she—she had been played for a fool this whole time.

Inside the private room, the group started playing games.

Lydia Mercer lost a round.

One of Sebastian Mercer’s close friends grinned like he was dying for drama and shouted, "A bet’s a bet. Since you lost, your punishment is simple—pick one guy here and give him a full-on French kiss."

Through the narrow crack in the door, Elara saw Lydia Mercer lower her head shyly, then glance at Sebastian Mercer from the corner of her eye.

The next second, Sebastian Mercer pulled Lydia Mercer into his arms and kissed her without hesitation.

They held each other tight, kissing like no one else in the world existed.

Elara felt as if her heart had been ripped open, a raw gash splitting through her chest, blood pouring out nonstop.

She stood there like a puppet with its strings cut, stiff and hollow, staring blankly at the two of them.

Sebastian Mercer had told her countless times that in this lifetime, he would only ever love her, that he would never touch another woman.

Who would’ve thought his promises were that flimsy?

So light. So cheap.

Gone the moment the wind changed.

Elara Whitfield walked out of the club in a daze, her mind completely blank. She hailed a cab and told the driver to go straight to the Civil Affairs Bureau.

After checking with the staff and confirming it again and again, she finally understood one brutal fact—she and Sebastian Mercer had never had a legal marriage at all.

Back when they were supposed to register, Sebastian had told her he was swamped with work and couldn’t make time to go in person. He said he could have someone handle it for them.

And like an idiot, she had believed every word.

Who would’ve thought the “someone” he found had gotten them a fake marriage certificate?

Five years of marriage, and every bit of it was fake.

All those sweet things he had whispered to her, all the promises, all the tenderness—it was all a lie too.

Right after graduating from college, Elara had applied for a drug research position at Mercer Group.

Sebastian had fallen for her at first sight and started chasing her like crazy.

She didn’t want to get married, so she turned him down as gently as she could.

But he wouldn’t give up. He kept sticking close to her in every possible way.

Every holiday, no matter how big or small, he would give her a necklace he had designed himself.

When she was on her period, he would make brown sugar ginger water for her with his own hands.

Every single one of his social media usernames was made from the initials of her name in pinyin.

His overbearing side, mixed with all that careful tenderness, slowly wore down her defenses. She was moved, badly moved, but she just refused to admit it.

There was one time they went skiing in Switzerland and got caught in an avalanche. He had shielded her with his life. She came out without a scratch, while he was rushed into the ICU and stayed unconscious for a whole month.

From that moment on, she was all in. No more holding back. She had made up her mind to be with him and love him the way he had once loved her.

Because she couldn’t get pregnant, her mother-in-law had always had a huge problem with her.

Afraid Sebastian would be stuck in the middle and torn both ways, she quit her job and focused completely on trying for a baby. Every day was medicine, injections, appointments. The injection sites would turn red and swollen, her hormones were a total mess, and the whole process tortured her so badly she almost broke more than once.

Still, she gritted her teeth and kept going.

Now, after finally getting pregnant, just when she was ready to tell him the good news—

he hit her with something this devastating.

She went back to the hospital and took another number.

The doctor looked at her over the chart. "Ma'am, are you sure you want to give up this baby?"

Elara Whitfield lowered her hand to her stomach and gave a hollow little nod, like all the strength in her had been drained out.

Since Sebastian Mercer had already cheated, there was no way she could keep living with him. And there was even less chance she would keep this child.

The doctor nodded too. "Alright. Go get another examination first. When the results come out, we'll decide on the procedure."

Elara took the form, went to pay, and finished the tests.

While she was waiting for the results, a video call from Sebastian suddenly popped up on her phone.

She hadn't planned to answer it. But her fingers slipped, and the call connected.

The next second, Sebastian's handsome face filled the screen. His eyes looked exactly like they always had before—soft, focused, ridiculously affectionate.

"Zhizhi, you're at the hospital? What happened? Are you feeling sick somewhere?"

He had clearly noticed the hospital background behind her, and his voice was packed with concern.

Elara stared at that worried expression on his face and blanked for a moment.

She genuinely couldn't tell anymore whether he really cared... or whether he was just that good at acting. Like, Oscar-level good.

When she stayed silent for too long, he seemed to think she was in serious pain. His brows tightened at once, and his tone turned even more anxious. "Elara, I'm coming back right now. Wait for me, okay?"

The second she thought of everything he had said in that private room earlier, Elara wanted nothing more than to slap him straight through the screen.

But she was also scared he really would rush back, find out she was pregnant, and stop her from going through with the operation.

So she forced herself to sound casual, like nothing was wrong. "Don't come back. I'm fine. I just came with Miranda Quill to get her stomach checked. Focus on your work and stop worrying about me."

Miranda Quill was Elara's closest friend. The two of them were always going out together—eating, shopping, gossiping, wasting time in the best way. Sebastian knew her well enough.

The moment he heard it was Miranda who wasn't feeling well, he visibly relaxed.

His voice softened again. "Okay, got it. But don't overdo it either. I'll worry. How about this—I’ll wrap up work early and come back this weekend to stay with you. Wait for me."

Elara Whitfield let out a cold laugh in her heart. She didn’t buy a single word of his excuse, not even a little. Still, on the surface, she kept her voice as calm as usual. "Okay. I’ll wait for you."

"I love you, Elara."

After the call ended, Elara went to collect her test report, then pushed open the consultation room door and walked in.

The doctor lowered her head and read through the results. As she kept going, her expression turned heavier and heavier. "Your endometrium is far too thin. You were already in a difficult position when it comes to getting pregnant."

She paused, then looked at Elara seriously. "If you go through with an abortion, there’s a very real chance of permanent damage. Later on, getting pregnant again may be almost impossible. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Elara’s heart skipped hard.

Almost instinctively, her hand moved to cover her lower abdomen.

If she gave up this baby... would that mean she would never get to be a mother for the rest of her life?

The doctor looked up at her, her tone softening a little. "This isn’t something you should decide in the heat of the moment. Go home and think it through carefully. If possible, talk it over with your family too."

Elara stood there, fingers pressed lightly against her stomach, her mind in a total mess.

She had no idea whether the choice she made today would turn into the regret of a lifetime.

She could give up Sebastian Mercer.

But she didn’t want to lose her chance to become a mother like this, in such a confused, miserable, ridiculous way.

When she walked out of the hospital, a gust of cold wind hit her face.

She lifted her head and looked at the dark, gloomy sky. The clouds hung low, heavy enough to make a person feel suffocated. The corner of her mouth tugged up into a faint, mocking smile, like she was laughing at how absurd her whole life had become.

Right then, a car shot past her at terrifying speed.

The sharp rush of wind brushed against her body. Elara’s figure swayed, and her vision blurred for a second. She nearly fell forward.

At that exact moment, a strong hand suddenly reached out and caught her, steady and firm around her waist.

Her breath caught.

She looked up without thinking and crashed straight into a pair of deep black eyes.