It wasn't until the next morning when I went out for business that I saw her, drenched and collapsed on the ground—
By then, an ambulance had already taken her to the hospital. At the time, I felt sorry for her, but I also hated her. She wasn't standing outside to win me back; she just wanted my help to find the child!
If the child really had unknown origins, would she care so much?
If it was truly a hospital mistake, wouldn't losing the child be the best outcome? That way, their original life wouldn't be disturbed, right?
But she was heartbroken, longing to find the child. So there could only be one reason—she knew who the child's father was. Clearly, it was her illegitimate child with another man.
So I hardened my heart and didn't show up, only arranging for the servants to take care of her at the hospital!
Today, when she brings it up, my heart still aches, but not out of anger—out of regret.