Chapter 1 Special Date

In the dimly lit hall, Yesenia Hayden, dressed in black, held a tissue, mechanically wiping the ultrasound picture. Her movements were robotic, almost numb. Beside her lay a phone displaying a message sent to Morgan Hayden ten minutes ago, which read, [Are you coming back tonight?]

Morgan was so busy that Yesenia barely caught a glimpse of him except in the mornings and evenings. He didn't fancy Yesenia messaging him. Hence, she always tended to obey Morgan, refraining from texting him randomly or dropping by his workplace. She was so obedient but lack of a presence, that everyone in the Hayden family, including Morgan himself, nearly forgot she was Morgan's wife.

His reply to her message read, [I will.]

A black Bentley parked at the arrival gate. Morgan exuded a cold aura, an air of control permeating his entire being. His thin lips tightened, and his brows froze for a moment as he glanced at his phone. His slender fingers moved, dialing a number, and he asked, "What day is it today?"

"Mr. Hayden, today is April 18th."

"Got it." Morgan's voice sounded somewhat hoarse.

His fingers played with the screen, typing a message in the chat box. [Wait for me to get back.] Before he could send the message, a familiar female voice echoed outside the car.

"Morgan, is it really you? I thought you were too busy to make it!"

Mira Herrera, with a high ponytail and a youthful aura, entered the car with a sunny face, grinning from ear to ear. She playfully hugged Morgan.

"I missed you so much!"

Morgan subtly pushed her away without a word. Unperturbed, Mira, seemingly oblivious to his actions, withdrew her hand and sneakily glanced at the phone beside him. She caught sight of Yesenia's name and was taken aback. She hadn't expected Yesenia to still be with Morgan.

Mira's expression darkened for a moment, but she quickly resumed her composure. She thought that now that she was back, Yesenia's good days were numbered, and she would find a way to make Yesenia lose her place in the Hayden family.

The night had grown dark. The Hayden family's servants finished tidying up the tableware and cautiously said, "Mrs. Hayden, maybe it's time for you to head upstairs and rest. Don't wait any longer. Mr. Hayden won't be coming back."

Yesenia glanced at her watch. It was eleven o'clock. A peculiar expression flickered across her face.

"No, no, he will come back," Yesenia asserted.

Remaining seated on the couch, Yesenia resembled an ice sculpture, unmoving. Time crawled by, each second feeling interminable. Half-past eleven arrived, and still, Morgan hadn't returned. Yesenia blinked, stood up, and her phone suddenly buzzed twice. Looking at her phone, she saw it was from Morgan's number. She eagerly anticipated the message, hoping for news of Morgan's imminent arrival home.

However, to her surprise, the message, signed by Mira, contained a photo that showed a foggy silhouette of a tall man reflected on the misty glass of a bathroom.

Yesenia clenched her phone tightly. She hadn't expected her husband to be with another woman on this day, April 18th, the deathday of their child.

As she gritted her teeth, memories of their passionate past flooded Yesenia's mind. His husky voice near her ear, making her blush and her heart race. "Yesenia, I can't stop," he had said back then.

Now, Yesenia couldn't help but wonder if he would say the same thing to the woman in his arms.

She felt like her bones had been crushed into shards. Three years of maintaining their marriage had turned into a mockery. Every second of those three years seemed to taunt her. She felt like a clown.

For three years, she had played the part of a dutiful homemaker. She was always gentle and obedient, helping care for Morgan's parents and being exceptionally considerate towards Morgan. Even during her miscarriage, she dared not cry or make a fuss, blaming herself entirely. She had been so submissive it was painful.

The clock struck midnight, yet Morgan still hadn't returned. Yesenia stared at the tightly closed door for a good while, then suddenly broke into a smile, as if she had gotten over it.