Chapter 3

The day after I stopped loving him, I rented an apartment that I'd kept empty all these years.

I couldn't stand being in a place that carried Mark's scent.

"Just sign first. I'll go pack my things."

I placed the document on the table and turned to get my suitcase from the balcony.

"You don't care about me at all!"

Amidst Tiffany's soft accusations, a warm body pressed against my back.

Mark had one arm around me, the other reaching for my suitcase. "Ashley, are you still mad?"

I felt a surge of nausea and instinctively tried to push him away.

Mark only held me tighter. "You found out about the challenge, didn't you? If you're mad, once I've recovered, we can try an even bigger challenge..."

"Don't touch me!"

I couldn't help it. I stomped on his foot.

As Mark winced in pain, I broke free from his embrace.

As much as I used to crave his hugs, I now found them utterly repulsive.

His arms had been wrapped around another woman just moments ago, and now he was holding me, whispering sweet nothings.

A flicker of shock crossed Mark's eyes. He maintained the pose of holding me. "Ashley, what will it take for you to stop being angry?"

"If you don't want to go tomorrow, we can pick another day, and I'll go with you to get rid of the baby."

As he said this, his usual gentleness returned.

But Mark's gentleness was like a puddle of mud; anyone could step in it.

I suppressed the urge to gag. "No need. Just sign the papers quickly. I'll make space for you two."

The curve of Mark's lips gradually straightened. "Ashley, I don't want this baby."

"Stop acting out. I'm serious."

"So am I."

The darkness in Mark's eyes deepened, his aura growing colder. Just as I thought he was about to explode,

He simply curved his lips. "How about tomorrow? My friend's having a birthday party. You don't mind if I take Tiffany, do you?"

Mark was smiling, but I felt no warmth from it.

Whether he smiled or not was irrelevant to me now. I shook my head. "Whatever."

Mark turned without hesitation, striding over to sweep the crying girl into a princess carry. His voice was louder than usual, resonating through the house.

"My little crybaby. I just said a few words to Ashley, and your eyes are all swollen. You're only allowed to cry like that in bed from now on."

Tiffany choked back a sob and nodded.

As they left, Tiffany spoke, seemingly casually. "Oh, are there roses here too?"

"But they're not as big as the ones you gave me, and not as red..."

The rest of her words were swallowed by the closing door.

I walked over, picked up the vase, flowers and all, and tossed them into the trash.

Mark seemed to be deliberately provoking me, his Ins feed refreshed eighteen times that night.

Every single post was sickeningly intimate shots with Tiffany.

We were getting divorced anyway; there was no point in keeping him.

I unfollowed him, then switched to my burner account to unfollow, only to find those eighteen posts were set to "visible only to me."

I'd made this burner account back when I still loved him, just to keep tabs on his shenanigans.

Since I didn't love him anymore, there was no need for it.

I deactivated the burner account and started packing.

By midnight, all my belongings had been moved to the rented apartment.

For the first time, the air felt fresh, devoid of that foul, decaying stench, filled only with the scent of me and my baby.

Lying on the unmade sofa, I slept soundly.

Remembering I needed to ask him when he'd sign the divorce papers, I unblocked Mark and sent a message, only to get a red exclamation mark.

I didn't think much of it, quickly tidied up, and went to the supermarket for groceries.

Even though I didn't know if the baby was a boy or a girl, I couldn't help but linger in the baby section.

I picked out a few outfits, wondering if my child would like them.

As I hesitated over a pink baby bottle, I heard a familiar voice.

"The milk is over there! Don't go that way..."

It was Tiffany's sickly sweet voice.

Then Mark appeared, immediately rummaging through my shopping cart. "Ugh, Ashley, your taste is awful. Are you sure the baby will like these things?"

"This outfit is for a five-month-old. The baby won't even fit into it when it's born, and you're buying these already, right after getting pregnant?"

"Ashley, do you... do you even like our baby?"

Mark's lips thinned, an expression I couldn't decipher.

I remembered that, from some unknown day, he had started looking at me like that often.

Each time I asked what was wrong, Mark would open his mouth but say nothing for a long while.

Then he started cheating.

I put down the bottle and asked him, "Did you sign the agreement?"

Mark scoffed. "Are you really that fond of this baby, or are you just still trying to get a rise out of me?"

His expression was cold, completely unlike his usual gentle demeanor.

He didn't even bother to comfort Tiffany, who was now following him, red-eyed.

I watched the woman publicly cling to Mark, demanding a kiss, and tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Does it matter?"

"It's either me and the baby, or just you."

Anyone who didn't know him might think Mark was a deeply loving man.

I stroked my belly. "Of course, it's the baby."

A blood relative, someone who would love me for no reason.

I had longed for it, for so long.

Mark was, at best, a jerk I used to love.

How could he compare to my child?

Suddenly, Mark grabbed Tiffany by the waist. "She's carrying my baby too, and I only want the child Tiffany gives me. Ashley, I don't want the child you give me."

A flicker of shock crossed Tiffany's eyes, quickly replaced by joy as she hugged him back, calling him 'honey'.

"Oh, don't worry. This baby is for me. I would never ask you to take any responsibility for it," I said.

"Fine... just fine," Mark ground out through clenched teeth. "Who knows if you'll try to get child support from me!?"

"I'm taking you to the clinic to get rid of it right now!"