Chapter 236

Robert's POV

The amber liquid swirled in my tumbler, ice cubes clinking against crystal in a rhythmic percussion that pierced the silence of my Brooklyn apartment. Here, amid Manhattan's perpetual cacophony, I'dI somehow created an island of solitude. This isolation wasn't new to me-it had been my constant companion since my family's financial collapse.

Finally, a moment of respite. These past weeks had been relentless, like trying to outrun a hurricane. Daylight hours were consumed by endless meetings. investor negotiations, and team coordination; nights belonged to data analysis and strategic planning. But things were looking up. The exhaustion seemed worth it now.

Two phones lay side by side on my coffee table-my personal device and the "Howard account" phone I used exclusively for communicating with Sarah. Every time I looked at them, I experienced a peculiar sense of division. as if I existed in parallel realities. One held the authentic me, with all my desires and struggles; the other contained the character I played-"Howard"-coolly observing Sarah's true nature.

I took a sip of whiskey, my thoughts still lingering on today's project developments. Just as I was about to review data for tomorrow's meeting.my personal phone vibrated.

Sarah.

A reflexive tension climnbed up my spine. I hated this reaction-this involuntary response to a woman who had abandoned me, who only remembered my existence when she needed money. I toyed with the device,hesitating to open her message as if something harmful lurked behind the

screen.

Eventually, I tapped it open. In that moment. I felt my blood freeze in my veins-it was an abortion appointment form, Sarah's name clearly printed at the top.

A thousand thoughts exploded in my mind, but one overpowered all others: that was my child. My second child with Sarah. A life I hadn't met yet but had already begun imagining a future for.

My stomach contracted violently, fingers trembling beyond my control, the world seemingly spinning around me. This sensation was terrifyingly familiar-identical to when Sarah left with Max, that toxic blend of helplessness, rage, and despair. But this was worse because I wouldn't even have the chance to meet this child.

"You don't want our child anymore?" I typed frantically, my fingertips nearly cracking the screen.

After sending it, I collapsed onto the sofa, feeling like a fish gasping on dry land. I despised this feeling-this powerlessness. I hated Sarah's hold over me, hated my own weakness, but most of all, I hated my inability to protect even my unborn child.

Every second waiting for her reply was torture. I stared at the screen as if it were a lifeline. Images of Max flashed through my mind-his first time calling me "Daddy," his tiny hand clutching mine. Now, thinking I might never see his brother or sister brought a pain like my heart was being shredded.

Sarah's reply finally appeared:

"This is the fruit of our love. Of course I wouldn't give it up."

"Don't worry."

A warm relief washed over me, only to be immediately chilled by her explanation:

"I just made this appointment to scare Philip because he's refusing to give me living expenses."

My relief transformed into shock, then rage. She was using an unborn life as leverage to threaten Philip? *My child* had become her bargaining chip?

The anger quickly morphed into self-doubt-I had fallen into her trap once again. Unconsciously, I glanced toward the "Howard" phone, recalling all the evidence I'd gathered over these weeks-the same woman who appeared vulnerable and in need of protection with me was confident and aggressively seductive with "Howard."

But when I thought about the life growing inside her, that anger softened into a strange hope. I'd already lost Sarah once; I couldn't bear to lose our second child too. The project was progressing well, my finances were improving-perhaps things could be different this time? Maybe we could start over?

An almost pathological longing surged within me-the desire fora complete family. I knew it was irrational, knew Sarah probably didn't deserve it, but emotions rarely follow logic.

"Once I complete my current project, why don't you remarry me?"I proposed boldly. "I promise you won't have to live like this anymore,constantly fearing abandonment."

After sending this message, my heart nearly burst from my chest. As an investor, I normally excelled at calculating risk and return, but with Sarah.

I seemed to lose this ability. left with nothing but blind hope and fear.

"Alright."

Those simple letters appeared on the screen, turning my world upside down.Hope blazed like wildfire in my chest. *I can do this.* The project was going well, investor feedback was positive, the team was functioning smoothly. A few more months, and I could provide Sarah and our children the life they deserved. I could be a successful husband again,a worthy father.

This excitement drove me back to work. I opened my laptop and began reviewing data for tomorrow's meeting, hoping to prepare more thoroughly to showcase the project's potential. That's when the "Howard" phone chimed.

I picked it up absentmindedly, expecting some trivial message. But when I saw the screen's contents, my brain seemed to short-circuit. It was a screenshot of the message I'd just sent Sarah, accompanied by text:

"See, this is what a real ex-husband does-my ex-husband only cares about me and gives me money."

"Now look at Annie's ex-husband..."

"He claims to love her with words, but in reality, he only hurts her."

My heart raced as I continued reading:

"Though Annie's ex isn't stingy either. At least he's generous with spending on me. What does that tell you?"

"It means I'm worth being loved."

"It means men find me valuable, worth their financial investment."

"But Annie is different."

"Men find her cheap, which is why they're so stingy with her."

"So,dating Annie really isn't as good as considering me. You should experience why someone like me is more worthy of love."

In that moment. I felt a strange deadness envelop me. Not pain, not even anger,but a profound stillness that reached into my marrow, like the eerie calm at a hurricane's eye. What Sarah didn't realize was that while thinking she was seducing Howard, she was actually showing me her true face,tearing away the last veil of pretense.

Over the past weeks, through these two accounts, I'd already seen considerable evidence. But a voice deep inside had always defended her:maybe she was forced into it, maybe she had no choice, maybe deep down she still cared for me. Now, this final illusion shattered completely.

I stared at those words, surprised to find the ache in my chest actually diminishing. It felt like a long-infected wound finally being thoroughly cleaned-painful in the process, but followed by unprecedented clarity and release.

Sarah never loved me. She only loved what I could give her. This fact,which had lingered in my consciousness but which I'd deliberately ignored,was now undeniable.

I suddenly thought of Max's smiling face, of the life growing in Sarah's womb. I remembered the humiliation of my poverty, the loneliness of my wealth. All these formed a complex puzzle, but the pattern was finally clear-my life shouldn't exist merely to satisfy Sarah. My love and

responsibility for my children didn't need to be channeled through her.

I picked up my personal phone and typed without hesitation: "What exactly do you mean by this?"

Simultaneously. I used the "Howard" account to reply: "I think we need to talk about your views on Annie."

Before sending these two messages, I felt an unprecedented serenity wash over me. The chaos in my mind settled into a strange calm, as if after years of turbulence. I'd finally found solid ground.