Chapter 2

After sitting in the cold wind for a while, I calmed down, took screenshots of the group chat records, and quietly left the group.

I was still sitting lost in thought in the corner of the balcony when Dashiell unexpectedly came home early.

He pulled me up from the ground and closed the windows.

"It's the dead of winter. Aren't you afraid of getting the runs sitting on the floor with the windows wide open?"

I stared at him intently. He seemed to be earnestly tidying up my clothes, but the man before me felt somewhat unfamiliar.

Not like before.

Is it because he did something wrong and feels guilty too?

I felt some aversion and shifted my body slightly, dodging his hand.

"Don't touch me."

He was stunned for a moment before daring to meet my eyes.

His gaze seemed to define me as unreasonable as he said lightly:

"It's because of that thing in the group chat, right?"

"Scarlett, didn't we agree before getting married that we just needed to satisfy our parents' wishes?"

"Now they're very content with our current situation, and I'm content too. What are you not satisfied with?"

My marriage to Dashiell had no love; it was all out of necessity.

The Stratton and Myerson families were old friends. I went abroad to study since middle school, while Dashiell stayed in the country.

Our relationship was far worse than that of our parents' generation; we barely had any contact at all. After returning from my studies abroad, both our families started pestering us to get together.

They even resorted to crying, screaming, and threatening suicide, saying, "You two being together is the best choice."

"We parents have paved a golden path for you, and you refuse to take it, insisting on going off the beaten track."

"Let me tell you, I will never approve of that boyfriend you're seeing outside."

"Not unless your father and I are dead."

During that period, they focused all their attention on us.

They took away our bank cards and phones, and posted many bodyguards outside, doing nothing but watching Dashiell and me.

I had no choice but to break up with my boyfriend, fulfilling my parents' wishes.

Before getting the marriage license, Dashiell coldly said, "I guess we're comrades-in-arms now. Let's just satisfy them, don't take anything else seriously."

I knew he was still thinking about Evelina, but I never imagined he would cheat so brazenly.

He even fed me birth control pills for three years to prevent me from getting pregnant.

Although it was fake from the start, it's a lie to say that five years of feelings weren't painful.

It's also a lie to say it wasn't disgusting.

I asked him, "So you want to keep this child?"

As soon as I asked, I already knew the answer in my heart. If Dashiell hadn't given his permission, Evelina wouldn't have accepted everyone's cash gifts.

She wouldn't dig a hole for herself to fall into.

Dashiell gritted his teeth, "Scarlett, I want a child."

I couldn't hold back, slapping him across the face.

Everything became so laughable, my laughter and tears bursting out together.

I walked into the bedroom, the drug test reports still lying on the table.

The hospital's diagnostic report was there too.

Angrily, I grabbed them and flung the reports in Dashiell's face.

"Dashiell, see for yourself."

"The folic acid you've been giving me, it's birth control pills, isn't it?"

He suddenly became flustered, clutching the two reports and looking them over.

His voice trembled, "Scarlett......"

"You've been feeding me birth control pills for three years, and now you're telling me you want a child."

"If you absolutely had to have a child with Evelina, you could have just told me straight. I would have helped you keep it from Mom and Dad."

"Instead of disguising birth control pills as folic acid and tricking me into taking them."

"I can accept anything, except you hurting me. "Now reflecting on the five years of marriage with Dashiell, it feels somewhat unreal.

Besides the mostly courteous coexistence between us, there were times when we got carried away with each other.

Sometimes, after he'd had a few drinks, he'd cling to me, calling out softly, "Darling."

"Are you happy with our life together? I feel so blessed."

Then he'd hold me even tighter.