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She flaunted their relationship.
People argued online—about whether she was the mistress or I was.
I ignored it.
A week later,my foster father's birthday arrived.
Three years ago,his orphanage faced bankruptcy,all the kids faced becoming homeless.Now,tied to the Harpers,their futures were bright.
The birthday party was grand.
Mr.Harper attended himself,joined by almost all of Manhattan's elites.
"Hey,I was gonna visit you,and here you are!"
"It's your birthday—no formalities."
I smiled,belly prominent,watching them exchange casual chats.
James stood beside me,arm around my shoulders,looking like a loving husband.
Suddenly,chaos erupted at the entrance.Music stopped,and angry shouts rang out.
"Mistress Olivia Carter ruined a romance—she deserves misery!"
"Olivia Carter,apologize to the public!"
All eyes turned to me.
The elites knew James didn't love me,but loveless marriages were common for the rich.
I smiled politely,stepping outside.
A solid soda can hit me before I could react.I felt liquid running down my cheek—blood.
"Who threw that?I've called the police!"
"Guards,stop them—no one leaves!"
James stepped forward,pulling me behind him.
Someone handed him tissue.He wiped my blood,jaw tight with anger.
Police arrived fast,arresting the agitators.
The birthday was ruined.
Mr.Harper,furious,ordered an investigation.
It traced to online rumors claiming I was the mistress who split James and Sophia.
Outraged fans,somehow learning about my whereabouts,organized the attack.
Mr.Harper acted swiftly,banning all online discussions about me,people lost their interest soon.
To soothe me,he ordered James to stay home with me a week,skipping work.
I sensed James had changed.
Before,he'd have dodged this in one way or another.Now,he accepted it calmly.
He cooked healthy meals,applied oil to my belly, and talked to our baby inside.
When Sophia called,begging him to visit,he cited being grounded.
One day I was lying on the sofa,James rubbing oil on my belly.
He suddenly yelped,face lit with joy,looking nothing like the proud CEO.
"The baby,he kicked me!"
He pressed his hand on my stomach again,feeling the tiny foot through my skin.
I felt relief—my child might have a happy life after all.
His father seemed to like him at least.
I gazed out the window.As due date became nearer,my tumor grew faster.
Late pregnancy,it expanded faster than expected,already suppressing nerves,blurring my vision.
Could I survive til delivery?
"Olivia,what're you thinking?"
"...Nothing."
The week passed.The night his ban lifted,Sophia appeared at our villa.
She kissed James in front of me.
He glanced at me;I smiled gracefully,walking away.
I went to the hospital for a final CT.
The white shadow had grown from the size of a grain to that of a ping-pong ball.
Dr.Wilson called in an OB-GYN to discuss details about my treatment.
"We can't let the tumor grow.Prepare for early delivery."
"Next month,we'll do a C-section."
I studied the CT,asking,"Is early delivery risky for the baby?"
"No risk.Waiting till full term to give birth, however, will be a risk to you."
The OB-GYN left for another surgery.
I thanked them,grabbing my bag.Dr.Wilson stopped me.
"Olivia,I don't know why you're set on giving birth to this child,but I respect it."
"If you need anything,just ask me."
"Also,I hope you can live for yourself in the rest of your life."
I thanked him sincerely.
I had planned—if I survived,I'd owe no one.
My foster father would have the Harpers’ support,Mr.Harper would have his grandson,James and Sophia could finally together.
And I, I planned to visit my birthplace.
Orphanage staff said a plainly dressed rural couple with Vermont accents left me there.
Leaving the hospital,my phone rang—James.
"Where are you?I came home,and you're gone."
"At the hospital,checkup."
"Why didn't you tell me?Wait,I'll pick you up."
I hung up,puzzled.
Next month,I'd deliver.I had gone to appointments alone all this time.
James arrived quickly,driving.
It was the first time he invited me into his car.
He'd driven Sophia,other women,but never his wife in three years.
Knowing he didn't love me,I didn't question it.
"Got any plans after the baby's born?"
"You asked the right question!I'll let him play all my childhood games—take him to Miami for the beach,then Montana for fresh air."
I nodded.My child would want for nothing materially.
"Got water?I'm thirsty."
"I’ve drunk from this bottle.Buy one at a store later."
Before I finished my sentence,James grabbed it one-handed,chugging most.
I stared,stunned.
Our first year,I used his bowl by mistake.He came home from work and threw it out,citing germophobia.
Now,he drank my water without hesitation.
The baby had changed him so much.
