1 The thought of a second marriage shattered for good that night. The man who once pulled me from the depths of despair was now screaming at me, eyes blazing red. The acrid smell of the air freshener stung my eyes, my throat constricted, unable to utter a single word. "A used-up, second-hand woman, still pretending to be innocent with me every day?" "Your ex-husband sold two thousand of your five-dollar intimate photos!" "If you had half the passion in bed as you did in those photos, do you think I'd go looking for fun elsewhere?" He finally snapped, shoving me to the floor. The air freshener clattered, shattering into pieces. "And tonight? Did you have enough fun with that flower vendor again?!" "Last time you said you just 'rubbed up against her' and didn't 'go all the way,' and then she got pregnant!" I pressed harder, like a madwoman, until streaks of blood seeped from his thigh. But tonight, the moment he walked in, the choking scent of flowers from his collar had assaulted my nose. Usually, when he felt guilty, he’d let me rage, let me be unreasonable, swearing repeatedly that he’d never do it again. Every day he came home, I'd drag him into the bathroom, armed with a scrubbing brush and disinfectant, furiously scrubbing the inside of his thighs. Since discovering Greg's infidelity, I’d developed a severe scent aversion. I sat numbly on the floor, staring at this man who was both familiar and a stranger. … Before I realized the surge in my nose, drops of blood were already splattering onto the bathroom tiles. Greg's face instantly went pale. He fumbled, wiping my face clumsily with his sleeve, his voice tinged with regret. "Darling… is it the psychosomatic symptoms again?" "I'm so sorry, I got carried away. Please don't scare me; I'll get your medicine right away." He stumbled out of the bathroom, the sound of drawers being frantically pulled open and shut echoing from the living room. I pushed myself up, bracing against the cold sink, then collapsed weakly onto the sofa. On the coffee table, a vase held a bouquet of roses, already withered and black. I stared blankly at the dead flowers, lost in thought. Five years ago, I sat just like this in my ex-husband's living room. To win back his childhood sweetheart who had returned from abroad, my ex-husband secretly took intimate photos of me. Five dollars a piece, he sold two thousand of them online. The torrent of disgusting, vulgar comments completely drowned me. Then Greg appeared, staying by my side every day as I faced the whispers and gossip. He pulled me out of the abyss, and we got married. To keep me happy, he'd bring me a bouquet of flowers every day after work. Sometimes roses, sometimes daisies. Until the day he didn't come home all night, returning the next morning with a bouquet of lilies – flowers I was allergic to. Enduring the hives, I found explicit photos of the flower vendor on his phone. When confronted, he knelt by the bed, weeping, his eyes red-rimmed, begging for forgiveness. He claimed he’d been drunk after a work event, mistook her for me, and only hugged her in bed, never "going all the way." I believed him. But not long after, the flower vendor showed up on our doorstep, heavily pregnant. Greg dragged her to the hospital to terminate the pregnancy. He held my trembling body, vowing he would never do it again. … "Iris, where's the medicine? Why isn't there anything in the drawer?" Greg's frantic searching broke my trance. He stood in the living room, his face etched with worry. I slowly stood up, leaning against the sink, stuffing tissues into my nose. "The medicine ran out ages ago." I looked at him, my voice eerily calm. "I haven't seen a doctor in a long time." Greg froze, the empty medicine box trembling in his hand. The living room fell silent, save for his heavy breathing. His eyes filled with remorse, and he quickly walked over to me. "I'm so sorry, Iris. I've been too busy lately." He reached out to embrace me, his voice laced with self-reproach. "I'll take tomorrow off. I'll go with you for your check-ups every day from now on, okay?" The moment he finished speaking, his phone, resting on the coffee table, rang. An unsaved number flashed on the screen. Greg's body stiffened. He glanced at me, then walked onto the balcony to answer. From the other end of the line, a woman's tearful gasp could be heard. "Greg, someone's causing trouble at the shop, please come help me!" Greg's brow furrowed. He grabbed his jacket, speaking into the phone as he headed for the front door. "Just put some ice on it yourself for now. I'll be right back as soon as I deal with this." The sound of the door closing echoed, leaving me alone in the house. I laughed derisively, throwing the withered flowers into the trash. If her happiness took precedence over mine, then I might as well give up my position as his wife. 2 I tucked the early pregnancy test results, which I'd intended as a surprise, to the bottom of my bag. Then I pulled out my suitcase, ready to pack. But a glance at the critical condition notice on the table made me pause. My mother-in-law had severe kidney failure; the doctor said she didn't have much time left. I thought back to these past few years, how she’d tearfully held my hand, calling me the savior of the Stone family. She swore that the Stones would only recognize me as their daughter-in-law and would cherish me like their own child. The year Greg cheated, she even beat him black and blue with her cane, declaring that even if my marriage with him ended, she would still consider me her goddaughter. My heart clenched. The next second, my phone vibrated. A message from a friend. "Iris, I finally managed to get hold of that expensive foreign miracle drug you wanted to acquire!" I sighed, and eventually picked up my car keys. I decided to see this mother-in-law bond through, hoping for a good outcome for everyone. My phone was dead, so I didn't think much of it. Without warning, I drove directly to the private estate where my mother-in-law was convalescing. My clothes were drenched from the rain as I carefully shielded the box of life-saving medicine in my arms, pushing open the slightly ajar front door. Inside, the heating was on full blast, chasing away the chill of early winter. But the desolate scene of a gravely ill woman I'd imagined was nowhere to be found. I froze in the entryway, my mind momentarily blank. In the living room, my mother-in-law, who should have been bedridden, was glowing. She was holding a two-year-old boy wearing a birthday hat, beaming with joy. A nanny was cutting a two-tiered car-shaped cake nearby. I stood stiffly, instinctively stepping back to check the house number. I thought I had come to the wrong house, or perhaps some distant relatives had brought a child to visit. But the next second, my gaze swept past them, fixing on the family portrait in the center of the living room. Greg, my mother-in-law, Lily and the boy in her arms. Only I was missing. And this spot, whenever I had visited before, was always covered with a red cloth. My mother-in-law had simply said it was because the area got dirty easily... But now, what more was there to understand? An instant, violent ringing swallowed my hearing. I trembled all over, staring intently at the boy's face. His features, his outline, were exactly like Greg's. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Hearing the commotion, my mother-in-law turned and saw me, dripping wet. The smile on her face froze instantly, and panic flickered in her eyes. She hurried over, reaching for my hand. "Iris, what are you doing here suddenly...? Please let me explain, things aren't what you think..." I stiffly lowered my head, desperately trying to suppress the tremors wracking my body. "Not what I think? Then whose child is this? And what about the photo on the wall?!" My mother-in-law opened her mouth, knowing that no amount of cover-up would work now. She sighed heavily and simply confessed. "Iris, since you've seen everything, I'll tell you the truth." She took a breath. "I truly pity you! You were ruined by those hooligans back then, unable to be touched by a man. But our Stone family can't be without an heir!" I stood rooted to the spot, listening to my mother-in-law's earnest pleas in my ear. "Greg was drunk and confused back then, but the child is innocent..." She went on, "Don't worry, you'll always be the Stone family's only legitimate daughter-in-law! I've already signed an agreement with that woman; she'll be a hidden joke for the rest of her life!" I pulled at the corners of my mouth. My gaze drifted to the healthy, lively child nearby, and for a moment, I didn't know who the real joke was. So the "bastard child" Greg swore he’d aborted, not only was born, but was already two years old. I stared at her numbly, my heart feeling as if a large hole had been gouged out of it, cold wind rushing through. After a wave of nauseating sickness churned in my stomach, I pushed my mother-in-law away and rushed out without looking back. "Iris, what are you doing?!" My mother-in-law called out, her voice muffled as if through a film of water, completely distorted. I ignored her, plunging headfirst into the cold, rainy night. 3 Back home, I pulled out the suitcase I had prepared earlier, stuffing clothes into it with an expressionless face. But it wasn't long before the front door clicked open with a passcode. I thought it was Greg, but to my surprise, Lily walked in casually with her child. Seeing me, a defiant glint flashed in her eyes. "Iris, Greg was too tired last night. He's still sleeping at my place." She settled onto the sofa as if she were the lady of the house. "I just came to get his ID." She explained. "The little one will be starting preschool in a couple of years, and we need his father's identification for early registration." I fought against the churning nausea in my stomach, turning my back to her. "Grab what you need and get out." She didn't leave. Instead, she laughed even more brazenly. "Iris, don't be so angry." She continued, "Greg only has this one child, after all. This house will be mine and my son's eventually. Is there anything wrong with me bringing my child here early to get familiar with the environment and learn the place?" The little boy was rampaging through the living room, smashing toy cars everywhere. I was about to step forward to stop him when I heard a sharp "crash!" A violent shattering of porcelain echoed from the balcony. That orchid, placed on the most prominent shelf, had been knocked to the ground by the little boy. Its vibrant green leaves were crushed, soil mixed with shattered pottery fragments splattering everywhere. My mind let out a deafening "buzz," blood rushing to my head instantly. When I was little, my parents weren't around. My grandmother was the only one who raised me. This orchid was the only relic she left me before she passed. It was my last cherished memory and source of warmth in this world. Red-eyed, I rushed over and shoved the boy, who was still carelessly stomping on the orchid leaves. "Get out! Get out with your bastard child!" The boy stumbled, fell to the ground, and burst into uncontrollable sobs. Lily's face instantly changed. She rushed over, fiercely shielding the child. "Iris, what's gotten into you?! A barren woman who can't have children, how dare you lay a hand on my son!" She looked at me, trembling, her taunts growing crueler. "No wonder Greg said touching you made him sick. You're just a dirty, second-hand woman!" She spat. "Greg even showed me those intimate photos of you being dragged into that alley. Five-dollar photos of you in 101 poses, bought by 2000 men who used them to 'get off.' You think I don't know?" I felt as if struck by lightning, all the blood in my body flowing backward in that moment. Greg had clearly promised he would spend a lifetime healing my wounds. Now, he had personally torn open my scars and turned them into fodder for his mistress's after-dinner entertainment! Overwhelming hurt and rage completely consumed my reason. I raised my hand, putting all my strength into it. I slapped her hard across the face. "Get out!" The sharp sound of the slap resonated throughout the living room. Lily's head whipped to the side from the impact. She clutched her instantly reddened and swollen face, staring at me in disbelief. "You're a complete lunatic..." she muttered. Then, clutching her child, she scurried out the door. The door slammed shut with a bang. I knelt amidst the muddy mess on the floor, frantically trying to pick up the shattered orchid leaves. Tears streamed down, blurring my vision completely. I couldn't bear to stay in this disgusting marriage for another second. 4 My hands trembling, I swallowed my antidepressants, then headed out to deliver the divorce papers to Greg. Just as I reached the dimly lit utility room beside the corridor, familiar footsteps approached. Greg stormed from the stairwell, grabbing my neck and pinning me against the load-bearing wall. "Where did you hide little Leo?!" I struggled to break free from his grip, feeling the nausea that I had just suppressed return with full force. "Cough, cough, cough... What Leo? I don't know..." "Still pretending!" His eyes were bloodshot, his voice echoing in the stairwell. "Lily said you went crazy and hit the child, and then he disappeared! Who else could it be but you?!" Blood rushed to my head. "I told you I haven't seen him. If you don't believe me, check the security footage!" "Iris, you're just stalling!" He suddenly grabbed my hand, roughly dragging me into the abandoned storage room next to the rooftop. With a "bang," the iron door slammed shut, plunging the room into instant darkness. I struggled to get up, but Greg pinned me down, his knee pressing hard against my leg. He violently ripped my skirt. The world before my eyes blurred, leaving only the ringing in my ears. "Let go of me!" He sneered, pulling out the high-concentration cleaning solution I carried in my bag, which had spilled on the floor. The next second, the cold, pungent cleaner was uncapped and brutally poured all over my thighs. A fiery, stinging pain instantly scorched my skin. "You can't have children yourself, so you hurt someone else's?!" He spat. "Let me see, this area of yours... it's been touched by many people, hasn't it?" He sneered, "What's with the innocent victim act? After all those people used you, you probably loved every minute of it, didn't you?!" I struggled, trying to run out, but Greg slapped me again, sending me crashing to the floor. "Didn't you think about this day when you kidnapped Leo?" He growled. "I need to make you understand that my patience has limits!" The overpowering smell of chemicals, the man's brutal restraint, the absolute darkness. Those vicious words instantly merged with my ex-husband's curses. Countless dirty hands tearing at my clothes in that alley flashed madly through my mind. My stomach churned with overwhelming nausea, and I let out a desperate cry, kicking at him with all my might. In the violent struggle, my lower abdomen slammed hard against the sharp, rusted edge of an abandoned metal frame nearby. A muffled "thump." An unbearable, searing pain instantly shot through my entire body. Warm blood, mixed with the pungent cleaner, slowly flowed down my thighs onto the cold concrete floor. I convulsed in pain, seemingly dragged back into that surreal world of memory. My ex-husband's cold indifference as he allowed his beloved to leak my intimate photos, the overwhelming mockery from classmates and friends. "This stuff is strong; one sip and you're out. Just shoot, any way you want!" "Such a loose woman, why don't you just die?!" My vision flickered in and out, until the liquid beneath me felt hot, then tight and dry. Only then did Greg's hands cease their brutal work. His phone suddenly rang in his pocket. He released his grip, answering the call and putting it on speaker. The hurried voice of the building security guard came through. "Mr. Stone, we found the child!" The security guard announced. "The little guy was playing around and got on a bus. He's perfectly fine at the terminal; false alarm!" In the darkness, Greg was stunned for a moment. Then, with a relieved sigh, he pushed open the locked door. Sunlight streamed in, a little blinding. I looked up blankly. The rain had stopped, but the rooftop was still overcast. Faintly, I thought I saw my grandmother's figure in the sky. Greg hung up the phone, remorsefully turning his head. He had just opened his mouth to say, "Iris… I’m sorry…” But I ignored him, gathering every ounce of strength, and suddenly rushed towards the edge of the rooftop! Greg's face instantly went pale. "Iris!"
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