I packed everything I owned and realized that after five years in the Lancaster's place, everything I had fit into one small tote bag.

My stomach cramped from my period, sharp bursts of pain pulsing through me. In the mirror, my lips were pale.

Connor burst in, clearly in a rush.

"Ivy! Ivy!

"Why aren't you answering me?" he snapped, brows furrowed with irritation.

I didn't respond. I stood up, ignoring the pain, and returned the bag to the wardrobe.

"What are you doing with that bag?"

I shook my head and asked in a drained voice, "What do you want?"

He was supposed to be at work right now.

"Oh-right," he said, slapping his forehead as if he'd just remembered. "Um... Rachel's craving your spaghetti and meatballs."

I stared at him in silence. His gaze flickered, but he forced himself to go on. "She said your version tastes different from anyone else's. She really wants it."

Rachel-every time he came home, it was always about her.

"You're a woman, you get it. Pregnant women can be picky about food," he added, then seemed to realize what he'd just said and abruptly shut up.

Right. After that miscarriage, I could never have children again. What would I understand?

So when Rachel suggested carrying the baby for the family, Connor's mother, Elara Kensington, was the first to agree.

The Lancasters were even hard to put food on the table, but Elara believed that having more kids would lead to fortune.

And for Elara, a woman's worth was judged solely on her ability to have children.

Rachel gave birth to a boy for the first time.

Now, she was pregnant again.

Elara doted on her like a treasure and looked at me with growing disdain.

"I'm tired. I'm not going," I said flatly.

Connor's expression darkened, but he forced a patient smile and tried to coax me.

"I know you're feeling wronged. Once Rachel has this baby, I'll spend every day with you."

He'd made that promise a hundred times already.

I was tired of hearing it.

Maybe it was the cramps or mood swings, but I felt especially worn down today.

"Connor," I said quietly, "I've got my period. I'm really not feeling well."

He knew this. Every time I had my period, the pain was unbearable.

He used to make me a warm cup of tea with honey and even insisted I stay in bed.

But now, he just frowned like I was being difficult.

"Rachel's pregnancy isn't exactly a walk in the park, either. She has to push through ten months-you can't just be accommodating for once?

"I know you're jealous, but pick your moments, will you?"

I stared at him, stunned that those words actually came out of his mouth.

Five years of love. Of course, I was hurt.

The ache in my chest crept to my nose and eyes. No matter how hard I tried to hold back, tears welled up.

Realizing he'd said something wrong, Connor looked away guiltily.

"If you don't want to go, then don't. Just rest up if you're not feeling well."

He stood up, ready to leave. But I called out to him.

The pain was making my head fuzzy, and even though I could see the impatience in his expression, I still asked, "Can you make me a warm cup of tea with honey?"

"Tch. It's not your first time. Just tough it out," he muttered and turned to leave without a backward glance.

Thunder rolled in the distance. The sky, heavy with clouds all day, finally burst into rain.

I had waited and waited, but in the end, five years of love couldn't compete with Rachel.

I clenched the ferry ticket in my hand-seven days from now, I'd be gone.

A mix of cold weather and my period gave me a fever.

I woke up groggy and dazed-it was nearly noon.

I'd already missed the time to make breakfast and lunch for them, and my old instincts kicked in, making me panic.

I rushed to slip on my shoes before I remembered. I'd decided to divorce Connor.

I let out a bitter laugh. I really had gotten used to serving them, hadn't I?

I washed up slowly, then headed to Elara's place.

Just as I reached the door, I heard laughter from inside.

"Come, have some more meat," Elara smiled warmly as she handed Rachel a piece of perfectly cooked, tender beef.

I froze in the doorway, one foot hanging in the air.

Neither of them seemed to care that I was there. They kept eating and chatting, all smiles and giggles.

The entire table was covered in restaurant-style dishes-far more extravagant than what we'd even have for Thanksgiving. No wonder no one called me to make breakfast.

Seeing them so cozy and harmonious, I realized how out of place I was.

Connor stood up awkwardly, forcing a stiff smile. "Ivy, I noticed you weren't feeling well, so I thought I'd let you rest a little longer."

I waved my hand, not caring.

If they don't call me to eat, I'll eat alone. I'm not foolish enough to let myself go hungry.

"Hey hey hey!" Elara banged her fork on the table and waved me away in disgust.

"Don't you have any sense? Rachel's pregnant and you're not exactly in the best condition. Stay out of here."

"Mom," Connor muttered, shooting her a look as he stood and walked toward me.

But Rachel clutched her belly and whined that she was thirsty.

Without hesitation, Connor changed direction.

Rachel rubbed her small baby bump, her eyes brimming with contempt.

I didn't have the energy to bicker with her.

With the cramps and the fever, I was running on fumes. I just needed something to eat.

I gripped the doorframe and tried to step inside again.

Elara's face twisted in disgust.

She suddenly jumped to her feet and shrieked, "Are you deaf or just stupid?! You can't get pregnant, and now your ears don't work either?!"

Connor appeared just in time, handing a glass of water to Rachel before rushing over to stand before me.

"Ivy, come on, let's talk outside. Don't upset Mom, alright?"

A pang of bitterness hit me, and in the end, I could only manage a wry smile.

The first time he ever stood in front of me like this, it was to pull me out of my miserable birth home.

He married me with pride. And now, five years later, he stood before me again to keep me from stepping into his family's house.

"Connor... I'm hungry..." I tried so hard to keep my voice steady, but it still came out shaky.

He glanced into the room, hesitated, then quickly walked into the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding two sandwiches.

"These will fill you up. There are some cookies in the cupboard, too," he said, as if doing me a favor.

When I didn't move, he sighed and added, "I'll bring you something from the factory cafeteria tonight, alright? Be good."

He grabbed my hand and gently pushed me out the door.

Since the day he agreed to Rachel, he'd done countless things that crossed the line. I put up with all of them.

Because I didn't want to make things harder for him.

Because the Lancasters had already lost one son. They couldn't afford for Connor to be the end of the family line.

"Connor, come eat before it gets cold!"

Rachel's sweet voice floated out from behind us.

If I didn't leave now, I'd be the one causing trouble.

I clutched the two sandwiches in my hands and left in silence.

My stomach still needed to be filled.

He knew I wouldn't make a scene-wouldn't yell or cry.

He knew I was the one who always "understood".

So when I turned to leave, he saw nothing wrong with it.

"Oh, right, Ivy," Rachel called out after me.

"Those clothes I left outside-can you wash them later? Owen wet the bed again last night."

***

"I'm telling you," Elara's voice drifted from inside, "keeping her around is a waste of food. I'd have kicked her out ages ago if it were up to me."

"Mom! Don't say that," Connor said half-heartedly.

"But it's true!" she snapped.

The wind was bitter, rattling through dead branches and broken twigs. I dragged my aching body out of the courtyard.

Behind me, their laughter echoed faintly, still warm and harmonious.

Two days remained before the boat was set to sail.