Free Web NovelChapter 1: Chapter 1
On a summer night, in the dim master bedroom, the large bed lay deeply indented.
Moonlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, rising and falling with the breeze. Breath tangled with breath; shadows swayed together in the dark.
The man had been drinking. He was far from gentle—there was even a trace of punishment in the way he moved.
Elise kept her eyes closed, enduring him the best she could.
"Elise... open your eyes and look at me."
Her chin was suddenly seized, pain flaring as his low, husky voice—tinged with restrained anger—fell from above her.
Slowly, Elise opened her eyes.
A sliver of moonlight fell perfectly across the man’s sharply sculpted profile.
For a moment, she felt dazed.
A month ago, they had parted on bitter terms at the cemetery.
That day had marked the anniversary of their twins’ death. Yet he had only coldly thrown out a single sentence—"I’m busy. I don’t have time to indulge your hysteria." Then he left... and for an entire month, he hadn’t come home.
A sudden pain at her collarbone snapped Elise back to the present. She met his dark, unreadable gaze.
"Focus." His voice was hoarse, the anger in it sharpening.
Her lashes trembled faintly, and her nose stung as tears threatened.
"Dylan..." she whispered. Raising her hand, her cold fingertips brushed over the slight crease between his brows. Her voice broke. "Let’s have another child."
He stilled. Desire still lingered in his pitch-black eyes as he stared at her intently.
"Elise... are you serious?"
She didn’t answer. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head up to kiss him.
His eyes narrowed. Long fingers slid into her hair, gripping the back of her head tightly.
The moment her lips touched his, his parted slightly. His breath was hot—but his voice was icy.
"Elise... how long has it been since you really looked at yourself in the mirror?"
She froze, eyes snapping open.
Reflected in the depths of his dark pupils, she saw a face—gaunt, sallow, hollowed.
He abruptly pulled away, rising from the bed. He grabbed a robe from the side and draped it over himself, his back to her. With casual movements, he tied the belt around his narrow waist.
"In your current condition," he said coolly, "forget having a child. You’d be lucky if you could even conceive."
Her breath caught, and she stared at him blankly.
Broad-shouldered, lean-waisted, his profile was cold and unyielding.
"Even if you did get pregnant," he continued without looking at her, his voice as sharp as a blade, "I don’t believe you’re capable of being a mother like this."
Each word sliced through the fragile courage she had painstakingly gathered, shattering it completely.
Before she could respond, Dylan had already walked into the bathroom. The door shut, and soon the steady sound of running water filled the air.
Elise lay there, motionless—like a body emptied of its soul.
She stared at the ceiling, her eyes devoid of life.
Not long after, the water stopped. The bathroom door opened, and the man stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist.
He didn’t spare her a single glance. Instead, he walked straight into the dressing room. By the time he emerged, fully dressed, he left without looking back.
From downstairs came the faint sound of a car starting.
Dylan had left again.
Silence swallowed the room. Elise pulled the sheet over her frail body.
Turning onto her side, the moonlight spilled across her back, illuminating the sharp ridges of her spine. It was, undeniably, a body unfit for motherhood.
For five years, she had been trapped in relentless nightmares. She had grown dependent on medication. Each day, she kept down less food than she threw up. At 170 centimeters tall, she weighed barely 40 kilograms.
Slowly, Elise pushed herself upright and slipped out of bed, heading into the dressing room.
She stood before the full-length mirror, staring at her reflection.
Even the smallest size loungewear hung loosely on her frame. Her complexion was sallow, her cheeks hollow, her eye sockets sunken—her entire being drained of vitality. freewebnovёl.ƈom
Her trembling fingers brushed lightly over her dry, brittle hair.
Dylan had once said he loved her long hair. He had personally sourced custom haircare products for her from abroad.
Back then, all their mutual friends had envied her—said that even her hair carried an air of exquisite care.
But after the twins died before they were born, every trace of happiness shattered.
Her trembling fingers traced the hollow of her cheeks. Elise sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around her frail body, and at last the sobs she had been holding back tore free.
***
That night, a sudden fever took hold of her. In her dreams, she saw her children again.
The twins—lost just one week before they were due, taken from her in the aftermath of a kidnapping—grew, little by little, until they were five years old in her dream.
The boy looked so much like Dylan. The girl resembled her.
In the dream, they spoke to her softly: "Mommy, you have to get better, okay? We’re still waiting to come back and be your children again."
When Elise woke, she found herself in the hospital. It was Mrs. Lander, the housekeeper, who had discovered her illness and rushed her there.
After a serious bout of sickness, she remained hospitalized for a week. Dylan never appeared once.
She kept thinking of what the children had said to her in the dream.
So she went back to the cemetery one last time—to say a final goodbye.
***
In the following half-month, Dylan didn’t reach out to her at all, nor did he come home often.
He would only answer one of her calls each day, and even then, his replies were always brief and cold: "Busy." "Not coming back yet."
She knew he was deliberately avoiding her.
But this time, she didn’t make a scene. She stopped taking sleeping pills and began following her doctor’s advice, practicing yoga to rebuild her health.
She cleared out the children’s room. She burned the prenatal records of the twins. She stopped mentioning them altogether.
Gradually, the changes began to show.
Her appetite improved. The symptoms of her eating disorder eased. Her weight slowly increased.
After two months of treatment, Elise’s weight rose to forty-five kilograms. The lifeless emptiness in her eyes began to fade. Though she was still pale and slender, it was undeniable progress.
Little by little, life returned to its proper track.
Just like before, she yielded to him in everything, loving him deeply and without complaint. And he, as her husband, treated her with gentleness, granting whatever she asked.
Three months later, her period was late.
Dylan was still abroad on a business trip and hadn’t returned.
So Elise went to the hospital alone for an examination.
...
"Congratulations, Mrs. Bennett. The report shows you are seven weeks and four days pregnant. The fetus is healthy, and the ultrasound has already detected a heartbeat..."
Leaving the doctor’s office, Elise held the test report in one hand while fumbling for her phone with the other. As she opened her contacts, her fingertips trembled.
She dialed his number, unconsciously holding her breath.
Then—behind her—the familiar ringtone sounded.
She froze.
The next second, the call connected. His familiar voice came through. "I’m busy. Whatever it is, wait until I get back."
His voice echoed both from the phone and from just around the corner behind her.
His tone was indifferent. Before she could say another word, the call ended.
Elise stood there, stunned.
His cold, perfunctory attitude made her feel disoriented, as if the warmth and harmony of the past three months had only been a dream.
"Robin, dear, how about Daddy takes you to get your shot first, okay?"
His voice came again from around the corner—gentle this time, completely unlike the coldness on the phone.
Clutching her phone tightly, Elise turned stiffly and walked toward the corner, step by step.
Her husband—who was supposed to be abroad on a business trip—was sitting on a waiting bench by the corridor, his back to her.
In his arms, he held a little boy with a cooling patch pressed to his forehead...
