He would pull me in his arms, telling me not to put myself through that anymore—that even if we never had children, he wouldn’t mind.
“If you really want a child,” he’d say, “I’d rather adopt one than see you suffer.”
Those words had only made me more determined to give him a child of our own.
On our tenth anniversary, my wish finally came true, only for it to come hand in hand with a devastating diagnosis—cancer.
Looking back now, I understood. The reason Ridley had suggested adoption… was because he already had his biological child with someone else!
The corner of my mouth twisted bitterly at that realization.
Before long, I reached Clarion Hotel.
I knew exactly which hall Ridley favored. Just a few steps in, I spotted him.
His face was full of fondness as he lifted a boy—about five years old—high into the air.
Beside him, a woman in a crimson dress, looking incomparably alluring, curled her lips into a smile.
They looked, in every way, like a warm and happy family of three.
In a casual tone, Ridley warned his buddies.
“Don’t let word of this get out. Otherwise, Agnes will just come here and make a scene.”