Part 1Love Heard, A Day Too Late

Our honeymoon abroad was shattered by a violent uprising.

To give his precious Bianca a better chance to escape, my new husband shoved me out of the car.

I spent the next week in a war-torn hell, a living nightmare. On the brink of collapse, it was my childhood friend who descended like an angel and saved me.

He helped me heal, he proposed, and when he learned I was pregnant, he was ecstatic.

But at the peak of my happiness, I overheard him talking to my ex-husband.

"Grace's pregnant now," he said. "Once the baby is born, we can use the cord blood to save Bianca."

My ex asked him, "Was it worth it? Marrying and having a child with a woman you don't love, all for Bianca?"

My friend gave a bitter smile. "You were willing to risk your life for her. I'm willing to sacrifice my own."

"As long as Bianca can be healthy and happy, I'd do anything."

And just like that, I understood. This beautiful, happy marriage was a lie from the very beginning. Both of my husbands, the men I had given my heart to, had only ever loved one woman: Bianca.

If that was the case, there was no reason for me to cling to a loveless marriage.

But why, after I left, did the man who swore he never loved me descend into madness, crying out my name?

* * *

Clutching the positive pregnancy report, I couldn't wait to share the wonderful news with John.

But outside a VIP hospital room, I saw something that stopped my world.

My ex-husband and my current husband were both gathered around a hospital bed, fussing over Bianca.

John, a man I’d always known to be cool and reserved, was looking at Bianca with a tenderness so profound it was practically liquid.

"Bianca, don't worry," he said softly. "I've already arranged for the best medical team. As soon as the baby is born, we'll do the surgery."

"But… will Grace agree?" Bianca's voice was frail. "What happened before hurt her so much. I'm afraid if something else goes wrong, she might…"

"You're too kind, Bianca," John murmured, gently stroking her hair. "You don't need to worry about her feelings. If it weren't for you, she never would have experienced my love in the first place. She should be grateful to you."

Inside the room, a picture of tranquil devotion.

Outside, I was drowning in my own tears.

My mind flashed back to the day my ex-husband, Damien, abandoned me. In a foreign country ripped apart by war, at my most desperate and helpless moment, it was John who had walked against the tide of fleeing people, who had held me tight amidst the thunder of artillery.

"Don't be afraid," he had whispered, his eyes full of a deep, sincere emotion. "I'm here."

"To the ends of the earth, from this day to our last, as long as I'm alive, I will protect you with my life."

In that moment, I had naively believed I'd found true love. I saw John as my salvation.

Who could have known he was the one who would truly push me into the abyss?

Saving me, marrying me, having a child with me—it was all for his beloved Bianca.

The stream of tears washed away the last vestiges of affection I had for John.

I turned, found a doctor, and said, my voice hollow, "Please schedule an abortion for me. I want to terminate this pregnancy."

The doctor stared at me, shocked. "Are you sure? When your husband heard you were pregnant, his eyes were red with joy. If he finds out…"

"He is not my husband," I cut her off. He's a liar who has ruined my life.

The doctor sighed and said no more.

After the procedure, I sat in the hallway, my face a ghostly white. John came rushing over, a box of fruit in his hands.

"Grace, sorry to keep you waiting. I went to get you your favorite cherries. How did the check-up go? Is the baby okay?"

He looked at me with such genuine concern.

A bitter smile touched my lips. I had seen that same box of cherries in Bianca's room. This "special gift" was just her leftovers.

As for the baby… he was fine.

He would be reborn into a family that would truly love him, not brought into a world of lies and deceit.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed when John took my hand and gently rested his head against my stomach.

"Grace, you have no idea how happy I am. I swear, after the baby is born, I will spend the rest of my life making you both happy."

Was this 'happiness' born from love, or from the guilt and compensation of a man who knew he'd done wrong?

I didn't know what to say.

Claiming I was tired, I gently pushed him away.

As soon as we got home, John received a text and rushed out the door.

I went to his study.

The bookshelves, his computer—everything was filled with research on leukemia treatments.

This man, so proud his entire life, had humbled himself, begging and pleading for the sake of a sick Bianca.

The safe didn't hold company secrets. It held a notebook, detailing all of Bianca's preferences.

"Bianca has a sensitive stomach. Low-oil, low-salt meals. No spice."

"Bianca loves roses. The rose manor outside the city will be finished by the end of the year. I hope she'll be happy when she sees it."

"Sweets improve her mood. She studied in France, so French pastries should suit her palate."

He had spent a fortune on jewels for her, built a fairytale manor for her. Every word was a testament to his deep, abiding love for Bianca.

There was not a single mention of me, his wife, his childhood friend.

The love I had prided myself on was not worth a fraction of what Bianca received.

After a moment, my tears flowing freely, I dialed a number.

"Hello, I'd like to arrange a faked death service."

"Three days from now. A car accident. One car, two bodies."