CHAPTER 20
The hospital rises before me, all glass and steel, reflecting the light of the setting sun. I take a deep breath before stepping through the automatic doors, feeling the rush of cold air that greets me inside. No matter how many times I've visited a hospital, the feeling is always the same: a clash between the clinical and the human, between the fragility of life and the desperate need to preserve it.
The smell of disinfectant surrounds me instantly, mingling with the constant murmur of low voices and the echo of footsteps down the halls. Everything in this place reminds me that this is where people fight illness, receive news that changes their lives, and—sometimes—welcome a new one.
Today, I'm here for the last reason.
I follow the signs to the gynecology department. Along the way, I pass a mother trying to soothe her child while holding him in her arms. The boy plays with a worn-out stuffed animal, his small hand clinging tightly to the fabric. A little farther ahead, an elderly couple walks slowly, leaning on each other for support. Life in all its stages moves through these walls.
I reach the waiting room and look for the most secluded spot where I can sit quietly and sink into my thoughts. I settle in carefully, feeling the weight of uncertainty on my shoulders. Around me, women with round bellies speak in hushed tones, some accompanied by partners, others by family or friends. I'm struck by the contrast between their faces—lit with excitement—and my own reflection in my phone screen: a woman alone, her future written in a blurred line.
My hands rest on my abdomen, still flat, still showing no visible signs of life growing inside me. But I know it's there. I knew the moment Walter said it with absolute certainty. I close my eyes for a moment and allow myself to imagine. In a few months, what will my life be like? Where will I be when my daughter is born? Will I have a home ready for her? The questions flutter through my mind, but before they can turn into anxiety, a nurse steps out of the exam room and calls my name.
"Mrs. Hu, Dr. Chen will see you now."
I stand and follow the nurse down a narrow, well-lit hallway. The walls are decorated with paintings of serene landscapes, as if trying to soften the tension that clings to hospital air. When I step into the consultation room, Dr. Chen greets me with her usual warm smile.
"Yifei, it's been a while. Is everything going well?" she asks, extending her hand.
I shake it, feeling a small wave of relief at seeing her. Dr. Chen was the one by my side when I lost my son. Coming back to her now, to tell her that her prognosis was wrong and that I carry a new life inside me, makes me feel euphoric.
"Everything's been fine," I reply as I take a seat.
"Are you here for a check-up today?" she asks, glancing at the computer screen. When she confirms that I requested the appointment, she looks at me with a hint of confusion. "What's going on?"
I hesitate a moment before answering. What's going on? How do I explain to this woman of science that I'm here because a seer told me I'm pregnant and I want to confirm it?
"Nothing bad… I suppose." My voice sounds more unsettled than I intended.
Dr. Chen nods with understanding.
"Have you experienced any abdominal pain? Heavy bleeding?"
I stare at her, realizing from her questions that she assumes my return to the hospital is due to some change in my menstrual cycle. In part, she's right—but not because of pain or heavy flow. It's because it simply hasn't come.
"I know this may sound strange," I begin gently, "but I think I'm pregnant."
She looks at me in silence, as if she hasn't heard what I just said. I understand her surprise—after all, she was the one who told me I would never conceive again. And it wasn't a casual remark. She ran more than ten tests and studies to confirm her diagnosis. Supposedly, I wouldn't be a mother in this lifetime. And now Walter says that God will give me a daughter, and she will be my salvation.
I see the confusion on her face. I know she wants to tell me that pregnancy is impossible. Maybe she's even considering referring me to a psychologist to treat the supposed mental disorder I must have. But I need to insist that she give me an ultrasound.
"Judging by the look on your face, you don't believe me. I understand, but I need you to trust me."
"The results we had were conclusive," she says firmly, clearly convinced that what I believe is either false or a delusion.
"How many times have I come to see you in the past three years?" I ask, trying to ground my reasoning.
"According to your record, this is your second visit," she replies after checking the screen.
"And did I ever say I was pregnant before?" I press, hoping to make her reconsider.
The doctor looks back at the computer, reading my extensive file in silence. Then she takes a deep breath and begins to ask me the same questions I heard the first time I got pregnant.
"When was your last menstrual period?"
"About a month ago."
"Any recent symptoms? Dizziness, nausea, fatigue?" she continues while typing into a new report.
"A bit of tiredness and some breast tenderness, but nothing more."
"Have you taken any prenatal vitamins yet?"
"No, but I'm willing to follow whatever you recommend."
Dr. Chen smiles and notes something on her tablet.
"Alright, then we'll do an ultrasound to confirm your suspicions."
To confirm Walter's words, I think.
She guides me to an examination bed on the other side of the room.
"Lie down and lift your blouse."
I do as she says, feeling a slight rush of anxiety as she spreads the cold gel across my abdomen.
"This might feel a little strange," she warns before pressing the transducer against my skin.
At first, only blurry waves appear on the black screen. A couple of adjustments later and then… there it is.
A tiny dot in the vastness of the image.
"Yifei…" she murmurs, surprised to see a small point inside me. "It's… It's…"
"A miracle from God," I reply, tears filling my eyes.
There she is—my little girl, my lifeline, my future.
"She's approximately four weeks along," Chen continues, eyes still fixed on the small wonder growing inside me.
My lips part, but no words come. I can only stare at the screen, transfixed, unable to look away from that tiny proof of life.
It's real.
It's not just an idea, not just a possibility.
It's my daughter.
The breath catches in my throat, and before I know it, warm tears are slipping down my cheeks. I cover my mouth with one hand, trying to contain the wave of emotion flooding me. Chen smiles with quiet understanding.
"Congratulations, you're going to be a mother. But you need to understand that, given what happened before, we'll need to monitor this pregnancy closely. We can't take any risks," she says as she turns off the machine and wipes the gel from my abdomen.
"Of course," I reply, my eyes still fixed on the frozen image of my little one.
"Avoid coffee and processed foods. Get plenty of rest and engage in light exercise. I'll also prescribe some prenatal vitamins to make sure your baby gets all the nutrients she needs," she adds, handing me a sheet of instructions.
I take the list with trembling hands.
"Thank you, Dr. Chen."
"Any questions or concerns?"
I lift my gaze to her.
"I'm still not able to fully process this," I say honestly.
Chen leans toward me slightly.
"Neither am I," she replies with a sudden laugh.
And I join in that laughter, because I'm not only beginning to believe in miracles, but I'm beginning to believe in the happiness waiting for me in the future.
CHAPTER 21
The scent of coffee and freshly baked bread fills the air the moment I step into the café. The muffled hum of conversation blends with the clinking of spoons against porcelain, creating a warm, welcoming atmosphere. This isn't the first time I've met Na here. It's the place where we've shared victories, failures, laughter, and tears. But today, for the first time, I feel like I'm about to take an irreversible turn in my life.
I see her sitting by the window, her beige jacket perfectly fitted, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She's looking at her phone, but the moment she spots me, she sets it down on the table and raises an eyebrow, giving me a once-over.
"Here I am," she says as I approach. "I'm all ears."
I smile anyway as I take off my scarf and sit down across from her. The soft touch of the wool reminds me that winter is in full swing, but there's something burning inside me that has nothing to do with the cold.
The waitress approaches with a professional smile and takes my order. I'm not very hungry, but I need coffee. I ask for one with milk, and as the waitress walks away, I feel Na's gaze fixed on me. It's as if she already knows that what I'm about to say will change everything.
"What happened?" she asks bluntly, crossing her arms on the table. "You've gone completely radio silent for two days, and knowing you, that only means something big has happened."
I take a breath and release it slowly before speaking. The sound of my own breathing reminds me that I'm alive, that this isn't a dream, it's a choice I've made with full awareness.
"I've been busy, Na. You can imagine where my thoughts have been." She nods in understanding. "First of all, I want to tell you that I made an appointment with a lawyer and went to see him."
"What lawyer?"
"Wang Kai," I say, and the words leave my mouth with a firmness that surprises even me.
Na's eyes widen in disbelief, and she slaps the table with her palm, making the spoons rattle in their cups.
"You're kidding me!" she exclaims, loud enough that several heads turn in our direction. She doesn't care, she's never cared what people think. "Seriously? You've already made the decision? How was the meeting? Did he undress you with his eyes? They say he's so intense he can intimidate people with a single look," she adds, lowering her voice a little, though not losing her signature intensity.
"Yes, yes, it went better than I expected. And no, he didn't undress me with his eyes. But it's true—his gaze is very intense, and there were moments when I did feel a bit intimidated," I admit, recalling it vividly.
Na leans back in her chair and lets out a long sigh, like a weight has just been lifted from her shoulders. Her fingers drum nervously on the table, revealing the agitation she tries to hide.
"As long as he can help you get that divorce, I don't care if he looks like some ancient dragon," she says, looking at me with a mix of pride and concern.
The waitress returns with my coffee, and I use the pause to stir it slowly, watching the spiral form in the cup. I feel strange, as if saying it out loud makes it even more real. The aroma of the coffee wraps around me, but it doesn't soothe the unrest within.
"He's preparing all the necessary paperwork so the separation can be fast and final," I continue, taking a sip. "In the meantime, I keep up the image of the devoted wife, so Ge doesn't suspect anything."
Na nods slowly, her eyes fixed on me as if trying to decode something hidden in my expression.
"Makes sense," she finally says. "Another thing, what are you going to do with the company?"
I stir the spoon again, watching the way the light reflects on the surface of the coffee. The company has been my life for years, but now it feels like just another part of the past I'm ready to leave behind.
"I'm going to leave it in Mei Ling's hands," I reply, and Na looks at me in disbelief.
"Seriously? You're going to entrust everything to Mei Ling?" she asks, her tone a mix of surprise and skepticism.
"She's the only person I trust with this," I say firmly. "She's been with me for years, knows every corner of the business, and understands how to handle things."
Na drums her fingers again before nodding with reluctant acceptance.
"Well, if you trust her, then fine," she concedes, though her eyes still hold a trace of doubt. "But running away from it all for a while might be a good idea for you. Still, I'll say it again—I don't agree with you leaving China."
I fall silent for a moment, watching people come and go inside the café. Outside, passersby hurry along, bundled against the cold of the late afternoon, unaware of the storm of thoughts raging in my head.
"It's for the best, Na. I need distance. I don't want Ge to have any chance of finding me," I say, and my words sound colder than I mean them to.
She clicks her tongue in frustration but doesn't argue. Instead, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and looking at me with that intense stare that always makes me feel like she can see right through me.
"And have you thought about where you're going?" she asks, as if preparing to take notes.
I shake my head.
"Not yet. But I know that when the time comes, I'll know."
Na narrows her eyes and leans in even closer, as if trying to solve a riddle.
"There's something else, isn't there?" she says, and her gaze drops to my abdomen. "You haven't stopped touching your belly since you walked in."
A tired smile forms on my lips. I can't help it—Na has always been too perceptive.
"I went to see Dr. Chen," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.
Na opens her mouth but says nothing. Her eyes soften, and for a moment, I see something close to tenderness in them.
"You saw your baby," she whispers, her words so gentle they nearly dissolve into the quiet buzz of the café.
I nod slowly, feeling the lump in my throat grow heavier.
"Yes," I say, and my voice trembles slightly.
Na leans in even more, resting her chin on her hand, her elbow propped on the table. Her expression is a mix of curiosity and emotion.
"And? What was it like?" she asks, her voice so soft it's almost inaudible.
I swallow and glance toward the window. Outside, the sky is grey, but in my mind, I see the image from the ultrasound—that tiny dot on the screen that has changed everything.
"I don't know," I finally reply. "It was… unexpected. I had the ultrasound, and there it was. Just a little dot on the screen. Only four weeks long, but already there."
Na smiles, but her eyes shine with emotion.
"That's incredible," she says, her voice barely above breath.
I shrug with feigned indifference, but she doesn't buy it.
"You're scared," she says, and her words strike straight at my heart.
"A lot," I admit, my voice is nothing more than a whisper.
Na reaches across the table and squeezes my hand gently. Her touch is warm and comforting—just like it's always been.
"You won't be alone, Yifei," she says, and her words are balm to my soul. "You have your daughter. You have me."
Her words comfort me more than I'm willing to admit. I squeeze her hand in silent gratitude and, for the first time in a long while, I feel I have true, unconditional support.
The rest of the conversation flows more naturally. We talk about the details of the divorce, about the assets I share with Hu Ge, and about how I plan to leave China once everything is finalized. I also tell her that Wang Kai has been more than efficient with the process and that, in a strange way, talking to him has made me feel more secure. Na gives me a suspicious look when I mention him but doesn't say anything.
When we step out of the café, the afternoon has begun to darken, and a cold breeze prickles my skin. We say goodbye with a long embrace, and as I walk through the city streets, I feel that, despite everything, I am on the right path.
CHAPTER 22
I look at myself in the mirror, and the woman staring back isn't the same one I was a few months ago. The black silk dress glides over my skin like a second layer, molding to every curve with deliberate elegance. Its neckline plunges, the back left bare—sensual without veering into provocation. My hair falls in soft waves over my shoulders, framing my face with a sophistication I hadn't seen in myself for a long time. I pick up a thin brush and carefully trace the outline of my lips, filling them with a deep red that stands out against my skin. Then I line my eyes, elongating the corners with a subtle flick that adds a feline edge to my gaze. I pause and look at myself.
When Hu Ge sent me a message saying he wanted to take me to dinner because he had been neglecting me, I knew it wasn't an act of love. It wasn't a genuine attempt to fix anything. It was his way of making sure I still knew my place. But I no longer belong in his place.
I put on my pearl earrings and take one last look in the mirror. I'm not doing this for him. I'm not trying to impress him. Tonight is for me.
I walk to the dressing room and grab my designer black handbag. I feel the weight of the document inside. The divorce agreement is there, waiting for its moment. I don't know if tonight is the right time, but something inside me says it is. I carry it with me like an ace up my sleeve.
I find him at the entrance, leaning casually against the doorway with that relaxed posture he's always had—the one that used to make me think he had everything under control. His eyes scan me with a mixture of admiration and surprise, as if he can't remember the last time, he saw me like this.
"You look stunning," he says.
I offer him a polite smile.
"Thank you."
He offers his arm, but I don't take it. That kind of touch means nothing to me anymore. I walk ahead toward the door without looking back. Outside, I'm surprised to see our car waiting at the curb. Where did he say it wasn't? A wide smile spreads across my lips as I recall the conversation—and the moment he realized he had no escape.
Tonight, I want to corner him again...
He opens the car door for me, but not with the care he used to show when we first met. There's no protective hand on the roof to keep me from bumping my head, no concerned glance. It's just an empty gesture, stripped of meaning.
The ride passes in silence. He doesn't attempt conversation, and I give him no reason to. The restaurant he's chosen is one of the most exclusive in the city. Dim lighting, gleaming glass, elegant décor. Everything is designed to make couples feel like they've stepped into a private sanctuary, far from the noise of the world. How ironic.
We're led to a table in a secluded corner, far from the other diners. He's always preferred discretion. Not for my sake—for his. Being seen in public with his wife is just another part of his performance.
When the waiter approaches, Ge orders wine without even asking if I want a drink. The gesture is as automatic as his smile. He pours for both of us with the same ease he's shown in taking me for granted all these years. The wine is a deep red, catching the flicker of candlelight on the table. For a moment, I wonder if a sip could harm my daughter—but I need to stay in character and act normally. I decide to drink, though my sips will be measured in drops.
"I was thinking we should take a vacation," he says suddenly, flashing a relaxed smile as he traces the rim of his glass. "Maybe Dubai. You've always said it's the icon of modern architecture."
I almost laugh. After so many nights away, so many pathetic excuses, now he wants to travel with me.
"That's an interesting idea," I reply, my voice neutral.
Hu Ge watches me closely.
"You seem different lately."
I bring the glass to my lips and take a slow sip, savoring the uncertainty in the eyes of the man who will soon be my ex-husband.
"Different?"
"Yes." He leans back in his chair, as if trying to analyze me. "I don't know… less concerned. You used to ask more questions."
I smile.
"Maybe I've learned to stop worrying," I say, as if I've suddenly become a poet, while inside I'm certain he can feel my heart slipping away.
I stopped loving you, Ge. I also stopped hating you. In truth, you've done everything you could to make me feel nothing at all.
His brow furrows for a brief moment, but he recovers quickly. He's not used to me playing his game.
The waiter brings our food, but he barely touches his plate. His hand slides to his phone, unlocking it with a practiced motion as his eyes flick across the screen. He knows I'm watching him, but he doesn't stop. He can't help himself.
"Something important?" I ask with feigned curiosity.
"Just work," he mutters, locking his screen again.
I know it's not work. The phone vibrates, and for the briefest second, his expression changes. So subtly that someone who didn't know him well wouldn't notice. But I do. I place my fork gently on the table and, without rushing, take out my own phone. An unknown number. An attachment. A photo.
The black lace teddy leaves little to the imagination. The sheer fabric reveals more than it hides, and though there's no face, the message is unmistakable: "I just sent this to your husband. How long do you think it'll take before he comes running to me?"
My lips curl into a barely perceptible smile. I look up at Hu Ge. He's restless, aimlessly shifting his fork across the plate. The phone vibrates again.
I don't make a scene. I don't confront him. I don't give him the satisfaction of seeing a reaction. Instead, I slide my purse onto my lap, open it calmly, and pull out the document I've been waiting weeks to present at just the right moment.
And this is the moment…
He shifts in his seat. I know exactly what he's about to say.
"I'm going to have to leave earlier than expected," he begins. "There's an issue at the office—"
"Ge."
I say his name gently, cutting off his excuse before it can take form. I place the document on the table and slowly turn it toward him.
"Remember you promised we'd buy the apartment across from Na's?" I say, tracing the edge of the paper with my fingertips. "Even if we only use it a few weeks a year, I was really excited about having a place next to my friend."
His impatience flares. He doesn't think twice. He picks up the pen I offer and signs without reading. Just like that. I gather the documents with the same composure I used to place on the table.
"You can go now."
He stands, grabs his coat, and walks away quickly. But before he reaches the exit, he stops. Turns back. Look at me. There's something strange in his eyes. It's not love. It's not regret. It's a flicker of loss.
Maybe, just maybe… he senses that our time together is almost over.
*****
I finish dinner, savoring each bite of dessert as if it were a small personal victory. The chocolate cake reminds me that there are still good things in life, even in the midst of chaos. I order a decaf coffee, something I never would've done before. But now, every decision I make revolves around her, around that tiny life growing inside me. It's funny how something as simple as choosing a drink can remind me that I'm no longer alone.
When I finally place the cup back on its saucer, I know it's time. I take my phone out of my purse, hold it in my hand for a moment, then dial the number I've already memorized. The call rings once, twice, before Wang Kai answers.
"I did it," I say, the triumph clear in my voice.
On the other end of the line, there's silence. Not an awkward silence, but one full of meaning—as if Kai is processing my words, weighing their gravity. When he finally speaks, his voice is calm, almost too calm, though I can hear something in his breath. It's light, quick—like he's trying to hold something back.
"This isn't the right time to meet," he says, but his tone isn't convincing. "Better tomorrow."
I smile at myself, knowing exactly what's running through his mind. Kai isn't easy to read, but right now, his voice betrays an emotion he rarely shows: happiness, relief… maybe even a hint of triumph.
"My ex-husband left with his mistress," I say, keeping my voice steady. "He won't be back until tomorrow, maybe later. Depends on whether she has more sexy lingerie stashed in a drawer. So, now is the perfect time."
There's another brief pause, and this time I can imagine Kai on the other end, calculating, deciding. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, almost a whisper.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," I say without hesitation.
This time, the pause is shorter. Kai draws in a breath, as if preparing for something, and then his voice comes, steady and resolute.
"In that case, tell me where you are and I'll come pick you up."
Without saying another word, I send him the location of the restaurant.
"I won't be long," he assures me before hanging up.
I set the phone down on the table and exhale slowly, feeling the weight of the evening begin to lift. I glance around the room, taking in the empty restaurant, the soft lighting, the perfectly set tables. Everything looks so peaceful, so normal—though I know that nothing will ever be the same again.
CHAPTER 23
There are barely any customers left in the restaurant. I would have left the moment Ge did, but one man keeps me here: Kai. I take my time, stirring a spoon in a cup that's been empty for a while. Outside, the city moves on, but I wait.
Then I see him.
Not directly—through the reflection in the window.
A black car pulls up in front of the restaurant, elegant, discreet, yet just imposing enough to catch my attention. A Maserati Quattroporte, with tinted windows that mirror the streetlights. It doesn't make unnecessary noise, doesn't attract attention from passersby—but I know exactly who it is.
The driver's door opens smoothly, and Wang Kai steps out. I'm not sure what I expected to feel upon seeing him again, but there's something about his presence that always seems to shake the balance I work so hard to maintain. His bearing is unchanged—flawless. His expression calm, as if nothing in this world could surprise him. Yet when his eyes find mine through the glass, there's something more in his gaze. Something I can't quite decipher.
He doesn't rush. He walks with the same quiet confidence he brings to everything he does. He enters the restaurant, and though there are other tables occupied, his focus is locked on me.
He wears a dark suit, perfectly tailored, fitting his broad shoulders and athletic frame without effort. The white shirt beneath it is buttoned to the collar, no tie, giving him a look of effortless sophistication. His hands, strong and well-groomed, extend from the cuffs, and I can't help noticing how his fingers move slightly—as if he's calculating each step before he takes it.
He walks toward me with steady steps, unhurried but unwavering. Every movement seems intentional, as if he knows exactly the effect he has. The sound of his shoes on the marble floor echoes softly through the restaurant, and I can't help but feel my pulse quicken.
When he's just a few steps from me, I realize it isn't just his physical appearance that makes him so commanding. It's the energy he carries, the blend of confidence and mystery that clings to him like an aura. He stops in front of me and looks at me with such intensity that I nearly hold my breath.
"Hello," he says.
I nod slowly, not breaking eye contact. There's something about his presence that makes me feel safe—and yet vulnerable, as if I'm standing at the edge of something I can't control.
"Hello," I reply, and my voice sounds steadier than I expected.
I rise naturally, but before I can reach for my coat, he's already behind me, slipping it over my shoulders. His closeness feels different. It's not just the gesture—it's the precision of it. The soft brush of his fingers on my shoulder, the way he holds the fabric, so it drapes smoothly, the ease with which he makes sure I'm comfortable before stepping slightly away.
Hu Ge used to help me with my coat too.
But never like this.
"Let's talk somewhere else," he says, just above a whisper—close enough that only I can hear him.
I nod without hesitation. He offers me his arm, but I don't take it. Not because I feel uncomfortable, but because I want to see how far he'll go without trying to force anything.
Wang Kai doesn't flinch. He simply opens the door so I can walk out first and follows one step behind me to the car.
When we reach Maserati, he steps ahead and opens the passenger door for me. He does it with a calm, confident gesture, without hesitation. He seems like the kind of man who doesn't need to speak much to command presence. I approach the door, but before I lower myself into the seat, I notice how he places his hand on the roof of the car. I stop.
It's a small movement, a subtle gesture that most people wouldn't notice—but I do.
Once he makes sure I'm seated and comfortable, he closes the door gently, walks around the car, takes his place in the driver's seat, and checks that my seatbelt is fastened. Then, before starting the engine, his voice breaks the silence inside the dimly lit car.
"You'll find a cushion in the glove compartment."
I glance at him, puzzled.
"For what?"
Kai doesn't take his eyes off the road ahead when he answers:
"So, you don't hurt your baby."
Something in me shatters.
It's as if, for the first time since I found out I was pregnant, someone, besides me, thought of my daughter. Not as a problem, not as a burden, not as a consequence… but as a life.
My lips tremble slightly, and before I can stop it, tears begin to slip down my cheeks. It's not sadness. It's not fear. It's something else. Something I don't know how to name.
Wang Kai says nothing. He simply hands me a silk handkerchief without taking his eyes off the road. He doesn't ask why I'm crying. He doesn't try to comfort me with empty words. He just drives in silence, while the city glides by—bathed in the golden lights of the buildings and the motion of the night.
"Where are we going?" I ask, once I've managed to calm myself.
"Somewhere you can rest," he replies plainly.
I turn to him, oddly at peace.
"Your office?"
He shakes his head.
"Are you taking me to your house?" I ask, teasing.
He doesn't answer right away. He simply glances at me out of the corner of his eye—with that intense look of his—and keeps driving.
The idea should alarm me. But it doesn't. Maybe because I'm exhausted. Maybe because, after so long feeling completely alone, this is the first time someone genuinely cares about me. Or maybe because Wang Kai is different. Not a hero. Not a savior. But a man who, somehow, makes me feel far from danger. And right now, that's all I need.
CHAPTER 24
The car glides smoothly through the city's illuminated streets, but my mind remains trapped in the moment Hu Ge signed the papers without a second thought. In his rush to leave with his mistress, he didn't even pause to ask what he was signing. Was I always that insignificant to him? The question echoes in my mind like a sound I can't silence.
I gaze out the window, the lights of the buildings shining like fleeting stars in the night.
My hand rests on the cushion Kai gave me so the seatbelt won't press against my belly, won't hurt my daughter. That gesture moves me again. When I got pregnant the first time, Ge and I were overjoyed, thrilled—but it never once occurred to us to buy protection for my abdomen. The man beside me—a lawyer, a stranger—bought one.
I close my eyes for a moment, imagining what her face will look like, her tiny fingers, her laugh. That image gives me strength. It reminds me why I'm doing all of this.
"Are you cold?" he asks, eyes fixed on the road.
I blink a few times, returning to the present. I realize I've been hugging myself without noticing, as if trying to shield myself from something invisible.
"I'm fine," I reply—though it's not entirely true.
It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth either. I'm tired, emotionally drained. And yet, there's a sense of relief slowly breaking through the fog in my mind.
The car moves onto a quieter avenue. Unlike the residential area where Ge and I are currently living, here the streets are wider, the buildings lower, and everything is wrapped in a silence that feels almost like a protective cloak.
"I didn't expect you to live here," I say, breaking the silence without thinking.
"Where did you imagine I lived?" he asks calmly, though there's a hint of curiosity in his voice.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye, but his expression remains neutral. There's no teasing in his tone, just a genuine question. I turn my gaze away and shrug. A penthouse, maybe. The top floor of some luxury tower. Something cold, impersonal. A place where loneliness wears the mask of success.
But no. When Wang Kai turns right, what appears before us is a house.
Not a penthouse. Not a glass tower.
A house.
The steel gates open as the car approaches, and we enter a property with clean, elegant lines. The architecture isn't ostentatious, it's functional. Every detail has a purpose. The light stone façade and the wide windows catch me off guard. This isn't just a place to sleep. It's a home.
"We're here," he announces calmly as he turns off the engine.
For some reason, my heart beats faster when I see him step out and come around to open my door. It's a small gesture—but a meaningful one. Hu Ge never did that. He never took the time to make sure I was comfortable, to make me feel cared for.
"Come," he says, reaching out his hand.
The night breeze brushes my skin as I step out. He closes the door gently and gestures for me to follow. With each step toward the entrance, the feeling of safety grows stronger. Wang Kai opens the door, letting the warm light from inside wash over me.
And everything changes.
The house isn't what I expected. There's no excess, no unnecessary luxury. The first thing I notice is the scent of leather. The lighting is soft and inviting. The dark wooden floor contrasts with the neutral walls and minimalist but functional furniture. Unlike the coldness of my house—where everything was placed to simulate a perfect life—this place has soul.
I set my purse on the entry table and glance around. To one side, a shelf filled with neatly aligned books. No decorative coffee table fluff—real books, their pages worn from being read. Farther ahead, a large slate-gray sofa, with a blanket carefully folded over one armrest. An electric fireplace casts a gentle glow, giving the space an almost intimate warmth.
It's strange, but… I like it.
It's the kind of house I imagined living in when I was a little girl. When I dreamed of a home, not a gilded cage.
"Would you like something warm?" he asks, placing his keys on the table.
I blink at him.
"Something warm?"
"Tea. Or milk with honey. Something to help you relax."
I'm about to say no—but the truth is, I need it.
"Tea," I answer at last.
Kai nods and heads toward the kitchen with his usual calm. I'm surprised by how natural it feels to be here, as if this scene had already happened a dozen times before. I take a deep breath and scan the space again. With every minute, I feel a little less tense, a little less guarded.
Then, my eyes land on something that catches my attention. On a dark wooden table stands a framed photograph. I walk toward it cautiously.
It's an old picture. A young boy, maybe five years old, standing beside a woman with long hair and a gentle expression. There's something in the child's eyes that feels familiar.
"My mother."
Wang Kai's voice makes me turn around. He approaches with two cups in his hands, his expression calm, but shaded with something else.
"You look like her," I say.
Kai sets one of the cups on the table and gazes at the photograph with a slight nod.
"She died when I was eight."
I freeze. I wasn't expecting that.
"I'm sorry…"
He simply shrugs.
"It was a long time ago."
There's no drama in his tone. No self-pity. Just a truth he's learned to carry with dignity. A pang strikes my chest. How much of his life has he lived in silence, without sharing it with anyone?
I take the cup of tea he hands me. The warmth of the ceramic soothes my fingers.
"Thank you."
Wang Kai sits on the sofa and gestures for me to do the same. I settle beside him—but with a bit of space between us. Not because I'm uncomfortable, but because my body is still learning how to relax. I blow on the tea and take a sip. The hot liquid slides down my throat, and something inside me begins to loosen.
Wang Kai watches me in silence, as if he knows I'm about to speak. And then I do.
"Why did you bring me here?"
I'm not sure why I ask that. Maybe because I'm used to men only helping when there's something in it for them.
Kai sets his cup down on the table and looks at me seriously.
"Because you needed a place where you didn't have to pretend."
His answer leaves me speechless. Because he's right. My whole life has been a performance. With Hu Ge. With my father. With the world. And now… I don't know who I am without the mask. But maybe, in this place, I can start to find out.
Wang Kai stands, walks over to a large bag, and pulls out a laptop. Then he returns to the sofa, and as the device powers on, he looks at me with that intensity that always seems to see more than I show.
"Let's go over the documents Hu Ge signed," he says, his voice calm but resolute. "I need to make sure everything is in order before we file them."
I nod, feeling the weight of the situation settle over my shoulders. Even though I know I've made the right decision, I can't help the knot forming in my stomach at the thought of what's still to come.
"When do you want to file them?" he asks as he spreads the papers out on the table.
"Tomorrow," I reply without hesitation. "I don't want to wait any longer."
Wang Kai looks up, his dark eyes locking with mine.
"I understand your urgency. But we need to be sure everything is perfect," he says calmly. "One mistake in these documents could delay the process."
"I've been patient, Kai," I answer, frustration rising in my voice. "Patient since the day I found out Ge was cheating. I can't take it anymore."
He nods, as if he understands exactly what I'm feeling. Then, he leans back in his seat, studying me with that penetrating gaze that always seems to know more than he says.
"What are your plans after the divorce?" he asks with genuine curiosity.
"I'm going to leave my assistant in charge of the company," I confess, surprised by how easily the words come. "She's been by my side for years and knows every inch of the business. I trust her."
Wang Kai nods, as if approving of my decision.
"And the joint assets?" he presses.
"Everything I own with Ge will be sold," I reply firmly. "The proceeds will be split as agreed. I don't want anything tying me to him."
Kai watches me in silence, as if waiting for me to go on.
"I'll be leaving the country for two years," I confess, feeling the weight of the decision settle in my chest. "I need distance. I need Ge to rebuild his life, so he stops interfering with mine."
"And are you sure he'll forget you?" he asks, in a tone that suggests he already knows the answer.
"He won't," I say, with a sad smile. "Ge will never forget me. But his mistress's true intentions will come to light soon, and he'll have to own up to his guilt if he wants to maintain the respectable life, he worked so hard to build."
Wang Kai frowns, and for the first time, I see a flash of anger in his eyes.
"What does that bitch want?" he snaps.
I stare at him, surprised by the intensity of his reaction. I didn't expect him to refer to her like that.
"I suppose she wants the title of Mrs. Hu," I say calmly. "Though I don't care about giving it to her. Right now, all I care about is my freedom… and taking care of my little girl."
I place my hand gently over my belly, feeling the small life inside me give me strength. Wang Kai notices the gesture, and for a moment, his gaze softens.
"Just remember you're not alone," he says with sincerity that disarms me. "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."
His words touch me more deeply than I want to admit. But I don't allow myself to dwell on their meaning. Instead, I nod and focus on the task in front of us.
"I'm going to review all the information you've given me," he says, shifting the conversation smoothly. "It would be good if you stayed close in case I need your help."
"Yes," I reply, thinking only of resting—so that my baby and I can feel safe.