I rushed home after two days away on a business trip, excited to celebrate the second birthday of my Call duck. But all I found was a duck's head and a note from my husband, Ethan. 「Dada kept crying in the middle of the night. The neighbors complained about the noise, so I tied her beak shut for the night. I didn't think she'd actually die from it.」 I read it over and over again, refusing to believe what I was seeing. Ethan and I had chosen not to have children. Dada was like our baby. How could he do something like that to her? I went door to door, frantically asking every neighbor if they'd complained about Dada making noise. At the very last unit, the door was slightly ajar. A pregnant woman was sitting on the couch, talking on the phone. "My husband is so good to me. I told him I was craving roast duck, and he went right out and bought me this gorgeous, plump one. It's so tender." The man beside her leaned over and kissed her cheek. "As long as you're happy. You and the baby are all that matter." When I got a clear look at that man's face, the box I was holding — the one with Dada's head inside — slipped from my hands and hit the floor. That man was Ethan. My husband of five years. ---
The sound of the box hitting the floor caught their attention. When Ethan looked up, his eyes met mine. A flash of panic crossed his face. The pregnant woman looked confused. "What's wrong? Is someone at the door?" She started to turn around, but Ethan pressed his hand against her head to stop her. "It's nothing. Just some kid being stupid, left something outside. They're already gone." His panicked look had hardened into something cold and threatening. He mouthed a single word at me. "Go." My heart dropped like a stone. Tears streamed down my face — but he didn't flinch. Not even a little. When my parents died, he'd kissed every single tear away and swore he would never let me cry again. Even when things got passionate between us, he'd always held back, afraid of hurting me. But now, looking at me sobbing, all I saw in his eyes was irritation — his whole heart was focused on protecting another woman. My legs felt like lead. I couldn't move. His expression shifted to outright anger. "She's pregnant. Take your disgusting trash and leave before you upset her — you don't want that on your conscience." Disgusting trash. I looked down at the small box of ashes in my hands, eyes blurred with tears, my mind flooding with memories. I'd been in a car accident years ago that left me unable to conceive easily. On our wedding day, Ethan had given me Dada as a gift. His eyes had been so steady, so full of love. *"Dada will be with us from now on. Having you is enough for me."* I'd blamed myself so many times for not being able to give us a child. But he'd always told me it didn't matter. His phone camera roll was packed with photos and videos of me playing with Dada. And now he'd used my beloved pet to impress his mistress. My phone buzzed. A message from Ethan. *"Go home. I'll explain everything when I get back."* But before I could move, the pregnant woman had already turned around and spotted me. I recognized that young girl. I'd seen her on Ethan's computer before. He'd told me she was a struggling college student his company was sponsoring. Her name was Yvonne. Ethan shot to his feet, startled. "She's a neighbor from upstairs. Probably got the wrong floor." Yvonne gave a sweet smile. "The duck is done roasting. Why don't we invite her to eat with us?" A sentence I'd been subconsciously blocking out suddenly resurfaced in my mind. I couldn't stop myself from wondering — was it possible that what was cooking in that kitchen right now was my Dada? Sure enough, I caught a brief, unmistakable flicker of unease on Ethan's face. ---
Before Yvonne could say another word, Ethan had already lunged forward and dragged me out into the hallway. "Go home. I'll be there soon." His voice dropped to a warning growl. "Don't make me regret this, Rachel." I grabbed his arm, dazed. "Was it Dada?" His body went rigid for just a fraction of a second — and I felt every bit of it through my palm. He shoved me off in silence, then impatiently kicked the box of ashes across the floor toward me with his foot. "Stop making a scene." The door slammed in my face. The smell of roasting meat drifted out from inside. I doubled over and dry-heaved against the wall. I sank to my knees on the floor and carefully placed Dada's head back into the box. The Call duck who used to nuzzle me with her soft white feathers was now someone's dinner. The man who had promised me forever had built himself a second life. I felt completely hollowed out. I sent Ethan a message. "I want a divorce." I went home and pulled out my suitcase, quietly packing up my things. Everywhere I looked, I saw memories — me, Ethan, and Dada. I packed all of Dada's belongings too. Before long, another woman would move in here, and everything left behind would just get thrown away. The front door rattled. A familiar set of footsteps. Ethan stopped in front of me and placed his hand over mine, stilling my packing. "Rachel, don't act like a child throwing a tantrum." I looked down. A single tear slipped off my face and landed on his hand. He went still. I looked up and wiped my eyes. Before we got married, my friends always said that once you tied the knot, you had to grow up — you couldn't be spoiled or needy anymore. But Ethan always pushed back on that immediately. "I'll treat her like a princess for the rest of her life." I let out a short, bitter laugh and pushed his hand away. "Go take care of your girlfriend then, Ethan." I picked up my suitcase. Near the door, he grabbed my shoulder. "Rachel, I'm doing this for us. Everyone we know already has kids. Don't you want a family?" His voice was earnest. "Once Yvonne has the baby, I'll pay her off and walk away. You'll raise the child. You'll be the only mother it ever knows." I was speechless. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Seeing that I'd gone quiet, he pressed on. "Rachel, you're the only one I love. Haven't I always taken care of you?" Just a few minutes ago, I'd been looking at Yvonne's Instagram in the building's community group chat. On my birthday, Ethan had claimed he was out of town on business. He sent me a necklace worth hundreds of thousands of dollars instead. Everyone thought it was so romantic. But that same day, he'd bought Yvonne a $5 million apartment and spent the night with her. The day I was in my car accident, he ran every red light to get to the hospital. Everyone said that proved how deeply he loved me. But right before he'd gotten that call, he'd been in a hotel room with Yvonne — a year into trying to get her pregnant. Hadn't he been good to me? He had. But he'd been even better to Yvonne. Maybe his kindness to me was nothing more than guilt for what he was doing behind my back. My voice came out hoarse. "I'm the one who took away your chance to be a father. I'm sorry. Is that enough? I want a divorce." Ethan tightened his grip on my shoulder. His patience was running out. "So what do you want me to do? Tell Yvonne to get rid of the baby? You can't have children, so you think nobody else should give me one? Rachel, don't be selfish." His words cut right through me. My legs nearly gave out. After we got married, Ethan's parents had somehow found out that I had difficulty conceiving. They raged at me for failing to provide an heir. Ethan knelt in the rain all night to stand up for me. He begged them to accept me.
He always told me he didn't care about having kids. He said he'd shield me from every nasty word people said. But no one else's cruelty could ever match his. *You're being selfish. You want me to die without children.* While we were still arguing, a phone rang. A soft, sweet voice carried through the speaker. "Babe, where'd you go? The baby and I miss you." Ethan's expression shifted instantly. "Rachel, just listen to me. The only reason I got involved with Yvonne is because I felt sorry for her — her family is poor. I only love you." He dropped that line and rushed out the door. Before, if I even hinted at a breakup, he would cling to me for days. Now I'd said divorce, and he walked out without a second glance. He said he chose Yvonne because she was poor. So what was his excuse for betraying me? Was it because I had no parents left, no one to run to — only him? Before I could process any of it, a figure appeared in front of me. A hard slap cracked across my face. Yvonne's expression was pure venom. "You shameless bitch! You're old news!" I held my cheek, staring at her in shock. It took me a moment to realize she'd distracted Ethan on purpose — to get me alone. I looked at her with pure contempt. "Yvonne, I am Ethan's legal wife. If anyone here is the other woman, it's you. Don't talk to me about shameless." My feelings for Ethan were dead. I was done fighting for him. But this woman had torn apart my marriage. There was no reason in the world I should be polite to her. I raised my hand and slapped her back. Yvonne let out a sharp, furious shriek. "I'm carrying Ethan's son! His heir! How dare you hit me!" She spat out her next line like she'd just won something. "You can't even have children. What kind of woman does that make you?" His heir? I laughed coldly. "If I refuse to sign the divorce papers, your baby will always be illegitimate. And half of Ethan's company belongs to me." Yvonne stroked her stomach, smiling. "Rachel, you're so naive. A while back, Ethan had you sign some documents — he told you it was paperwork for a vacation property he was gifting you. But the last page was a stock transfer agreement." She looked me up and down with contempt. "Your thirty percent of shares are in my name now. So is Ethan's twenty. Even if you divorce and go after assets, there won't be much left for you." The blood drained from my body. That day was the anniversary of my parents' deaths. Ethan had surprised me with the gift of a vacation island to cheer me up. He'd been unusually tender and attentive that day — all because he'd needed me distracted enough to sign those documents. Everything I thought was love had been a calculated move. My eyes went red. My voice cracked. "Get out." Yvonne tilted her chin up. Her gaze drifted down to the box I was holding. "You actually think that's your stupid duck in there?" I went completely still. She smiled. "I knew you two had a Call duck. So I asked Ethan to bring her over to me for some fun. But she kept making noise at night, and Ethan didn't want her disturbing my sleep or stressing the baby — so he tied her beak shut. We didn't think she'd be so fragile. By morning, she looked like she was already half dead." Yvonne pulled out her phone without a care in the world, and hit play on a video. Dada's cries tore through the air — raw, desperate sounds that left me shaking, unable to speak. "I know you both treated that duck like your child. But she was just a duck. She can't possibly compare to the baby I'm carrying. Honestly? Ethan always thought it was embarrassing and ridiculous that you treated a duck like a person." A sharp pain tore through my chest. She smiled like someone savoring a victory. "You think I actually wanted roast duck? I just wanted to test Ethan. I wanted to see exactly how much he loved me." She paused. "I didn't expect him to say yes so fast."
My eyes were burning red. I completely lost control. I lunged forward and grabbed her by the hair. "You killed my Dada. So let your baby pay for it." I was Rachel. I'd fought my way up alongside Ethan for years. Everyone respected me. Why the hell should I take this from his mistress? I pulled up the recording I'd just made of what Ethan said and played it out loud. "He told me himself — he only picked you because you were poor. After the baby's born, I'll be the one raising it. You really think he loves you that much? He's a businessman. Whatever he feels for you, it won't last." Yvonne went wild. She threw herself at me, clawing and fighting. "Liar! Ethan said he'd make me his wife! He gave me those shares because he wants to divorce you!" The shares. It finally clicked. Ethan had been afraid that if I found out the truth, I'd leave. So he stripped away my assets first. A woman with no parents, no money, and nowhere to go — he figured I'd have no choice but to stay. But he was wrong. My Aunt Claire had built a business empire in Europe. When my parents died, she'd wanted to take me with her. She'd told me once: *If you ever choose the wrong man, come find me. Anytime.* I'd already been in contact with her. She was sending someone to get me soon. Yvonne had her hands around my throat. I stumbled backward into the table. A box of condoms fell to the floor. She let out a cold laugh. "Strawberry flavor — our favorite. But now when Ethan and I sleep together, we don't bother with those anymore. If you need them, I can gift them to you." Her words ignited something in me. I shoved her down hard. When she hit the ground, I hit her — once, twice. Her lip split. She tore open her own shirt. She bared the red marks covering her skin, then turned them toward me like a trophy. "See all of this? Ethan left every single one. Men are driven by desire — I'm already pregnant and he still can't keep his hands off me. I doubt he even wants to touch you anymore. You're boring. You're old to him." I froze. It was true — Ethan had never been passionate with me in bed. He always said it was because he loved me too much to be rough with me. That I was precious to him. Something cracked open inside me. I snapped. I grabbed her face, pressing down, my hands shaking as I drove her head against the floor. "Shut up! Give me back my Dada!" She thrashed wildly, stretching toward her phone to call for help. "I'm pregnant! If anything happens to me, Ethan will destroy you!" The sound of Dada's desperate cries was still echoing in my head. I could barely see straight. My hands wouldn't stop. Then the door burst open. A foot drove hard into my stomach — no hesitation, full force. "Rachel! Have you lost your mind!" The impact hurled me to the floor. Through blurred vision, I saw Ethan's face — pale, horrified. Something warm spread beneath me. I looked down. A dark red stain was pooling around me, soaking into the floor. The pain in my stomach was unbearable. Before everything went black, I heard Ethan's voice screaming. "Rachel! Call 911!" When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. My whole body felt like it had been run over. My throat was raw. I tried to speak. Nothing came out. The doctor let out a slow breath of relief. "You can't take falls like that when you're pregnant. We almost lost the baby." I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. The child I'd waited so long for had decided to show up now — right when I'd found out about the affair, right when I'd asked for a divorce. I reached down and pressed my hand against my still-flat stomach. The doctor said, "If everything goes smoothly, you'll need to take care of yourself for the rest of the pregnancy." I'd lost my parents. I'd lost my husband. I'd lost Dada. If I lost this baby too, I didn't know how I would keep going. But the problem now was this: how was I going to make Ethan believe the baby was already gone? My child didn't deserve a father like him.
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