Chapter 2

The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the villa's study, but I couldn't feel an ounce of warmth.

I sat at Liam's desk, gently caressing my five-month belly, Eleanor's words echoing repeatedly in my mind, along with the image of Liam supporting her as they left without hesitation.

"Seeing you both living in the blueprint I designed... it really moves me." Every time I recalled those words, my heart felt like it was being sliced by a knife.

Liam hadn't come home all night, didn't even bother with an explanation, while I sat there like an abandoned bride, ending this farce under everyone's pitying gazes.

The doctor said I needed to stay calm during pregnancy, but Eleanor's words slithered through my mind like venomous snakes. "Blueprint... what did she really mean?" Was every detail of this villa's design truly her work?

I took a deep breath and walked toward Liam's study.

The drawers contained business documents, the filing cabinets were stuffed with real estate project materials, and the bookshelves were lined with architecture and design books... My fingers searched every corner, my heart pounding faster and faster.

Just as I was about to give up, I stood on my tiptoes and my fingers brushed against a folder pushed to the corner of the highest shelf.

"Malibu Dream House - Original Blueprint"

My heart started racing.

I opened the folder with trembling hands, and what I saw struck me like lightning.

Every corner of the blueprints was annotated with meticulous requirements, but these requirements... were all based on one person's preferences:

[Master Bedroom: E loves morning light, large east-facing window]

[Kitchen: E's favorite island height 36 inches]

[Walk-in Closet: E's clothing style needs ample hanging space]

[Master Bathroom: Bathtub large enough for two persons]

Most devastating was the date in the bottom right corner—March 15, 2019.

And I met Liam in April 2020.

"Three years..." my voice trembled in the empty study, "I've been living in her dream all along?"

I stared at these annotations for a long time, my mind in complete chaos. Anger, humiliation, disbelief... emotions crashed over me in waves.

I thought about the details of my daily life—the morning sunlight, the cooking counter, the bathtub...

It turned out every detail of my life had been carefully designed by another woman.

My phone suddenly rang—a text from Liam: [Might be very late tonight, get some rest early.]

The moment I saw this message, my sadness turned to fury.

Still trying to escape? Did he think one casual text could make me forget yesterday's humiliation, forget this damning evidence?

I clutched the blueprints tightly, with only one thought in mind: I need answers, and I need them today.

I spent the entire day waiting in the living room with those blueprints, a million questions churning in my head. Every minute, every second felt like torture.

At eight PM, the sound of the lock turning echoed, and Liam walked in with tired steps. He was clearly startled when he saw me waiting on the sofa.

"You're still awake? The doctor said you need plenty of sleep." He tried to change the subject, "I'll go take a shower..."

"Stop right there!"

I stood up and slammed the blueprints heavily onto the coffee table. The sharp sound was especially harsh in the quiet living room.

"Liam, give me an explanation. Who exactly is Eleanor? Why is our home designed according to her dreams?"

The color instantly drained from Liam's face, but he quickly forced composure: "Chloe, you... you went through my things?"

"Answer my question!" My voice was more resolute than it had ever been, "Every detail this woman annotated on these blueprints matches exactly how this house looks now. Even the bathtub placement is identical!"

"That's all in the past, don't overthink it." Liam walked to the bar counter, turning his back to me as he poured whiskey, "Designers always have some special requirements."

"The past?" I grabbed the blueprints, pointing at the date, burning with rage, "This design is from March 2019! A whole year before we even met! We've been together three years, living together for two, and I've been living in your ex-girlfriend's dream house this entire time!"

The whiskey glass froze in Liam's hand for a few seconds, then he downed it in one gulp: "Chloe, you're carrying a child, don't get so worked up. Eleanor just helped with the design, nothing more."

"Helped with the design?" I felt dizzy, not from pregnancy, but from rage, "Then why did you abandon me at the wedding yesterday to take care of her? A hundred guests were watching us! My parents..."

"She's my friend, I couldn't just let her suffer." Liam turned around, his eyes evasive, "You should understand."

"Friend?" I laughed bitterly, "Would a friend say those things at someone else's wedding? Would a friend make you abandon your wife on your wedding night?"

Liam's face turned completely cold: "I told you, don't overthink it. Eleanor is gone, our life won't change."

"Won't change?" I pointed at the exquisite decor around us, grievance flooding out like a tide, "The angle of sunlight I wake up to every morning, the counter height when I cook, the bathtub I bathe in... all of this was designed for another woman! Liam, do you know how this feels? Like a thief living in someone else's house!"

"Enough!" Liam suddenly exploded, "Chloe, what do you want? Do you want a divorce?"

The air instantly froze.

This was the first time in our three years together that Liam had mentioned the word 'divorce.'

I looked at this man's cold face before me, as if I had never known him at all.

That night, neither of us said another word. For the next two days, Liam left early and returned late, and we lived under the same roof like strangers.

On the third afternoon, I sat in my parents' cramped living room, that familiar 700-square-foot apartment.

Compared to the villa's luxury, everything here seemed shabby—secondhand sofa, worn coffee table, yellowing wallpaper on the walls.

"Divorce? Are you insane?"

Mom's voice was sharp enough to cut glass: "You're five months pregnant! Chloe, what's gotten into you?"

"Mom, I can't continue living like this..." My voice trembled, "I feel like a guest in my own home."

"So what if you're a guest?" Dad slammed down his coffee cup, "Look at where you live now, then look at here! Where would you go if you left him?"

I surveyed this small space that had held twenty-plus years of my memories, overwhelming sadness washing over me. Yes, where could I go?

"We can't afford to support you and the baby." Mom's words were brutally direct, "You have to be realistic, Chloe! Do you think the outside world is easy to navigate?"

"But he doesn't have me in his heart at all..." My tears finally couldn't be held back.

"As long as he's not cheating, you have to endure it!" Dad interrupted me, "This is marriage! Did you think fairy tales were real?"

"Besides," Mom added, envy flashing in her eyes, "Liam treats you so well! The Malibu villa, private doctors, designer bags... Others would kill to have what you have, and here you are complaining?"

"You don't understand..." I closed my eyes in despair, "Material things are important, but..."

"But what? You want romance?" Dad stood up, "Chloe, wake up! Your mother and I have been married twenty-five years, do you think we've been in love the whole time? The child needs a father, you need security. Stop being childish and go back to apologize."

I looked at my parents' expectant eyes, and the last glimmer of hope in my heart shattered.

Even my closest people didn't understand my pain.

At ten PM, I drove alone back to the Malibu villa.

Liam still wasn't home.

I caressed my growing belly and surveyed this "home" that reflected Eleanor's taste in every detail. Each element reminded me that I was nothing more than a substitute.

Under the moonlight, I stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling window, my shadow looking particularly lonely.

The baby in my belly gave a gentle kick, as if reminding me—no matter what, I was no longer alone.

But was this fact a comfort or a shackle?

I closed my eyes and silently asked in my heart: "Baby, what should mommy do?"