Scarred by Love

"Your follicles are fine this time, but your husband's sperm quality isn't great..."

Sylvia Spencer clutched the test report as she walked out of the hospital, her entire being in a daze.

This was already her 12th ovulation cycle. A full year of trying to conceive with Lucas Smith, and another failure.

Despite the scorching 104-degree heat, Sylvia felt a chill that reached the depths of her heart. She stopped in front of a jewelry store, and through the glass, she saw her own haggard reflection staring back at her. For a moment, her eyes welled up with tears.

She used to be the campus beauty, pursued by countless admirers. Now she looked like a worn-out housewife, aged beyond her years.

Sylvia couldn't bear to look at her reflection any longer and shifted her gaze away.

Suddenly, she spotted a familiar figure inside the jewelry store.

Lucas stood upright in front of a display case, his back to her, with a young, pretty girl nestled close beside him.

The girl wore a bright yellow sundress, her demeanor lively and adorable—exactly like Sylvia herself used to be.

Lucas was leaning toward the girl, saying something, his face lit with a gentle smile Sylvia hadn't seen in ages.

Then the sales clerk brought over a diamond-studded bracelet, and Lucas personally fastened it around the girl's wrist.

The young girl's reaction was direct and enthusiastic—she threw her arms around his neck, about to kiss him.

Lucas smiled and playfully blocked her forehead with his hand, but the girl took the opportunity to cling tightly to his arm, tilting her head up to say something.

The two stood incredibly close, looking exactly like a couple playfully flirting. Laughing and chatting, they left the jewelry store together.

The entire scene lasted only a few minutes, but to Sylvia, it felt like an eternity. Her heart felt as though it had been pierced by a dull blade, the pain so intense that cold sweat broke out across her back.

She recognized that girl. Her name was Lynn Johnson, a new intern at Lucas's company.

Lucas had initially been quite dissatisfied with Lynn, often complaining at home about how clumsy she was. Sylvia had even kindly advised him to be more tolerant of Lynn.

She never imagined the two of them would be having an affair right under her nose.

Sylvia could hardly believe her own eyes.

She turned her head and looked at her reflection in the glass wall.

Years of fertility injections had long since distorted her figure—loose and bloated.

Her complexion was sallow, and brown spots had even appeared beneath the corners of her eyes.

She was only 28 years old, but she looked 38.

Thinking of Lynn's face, plump with youthful collagen, made Sylvia's chest tighten even more.

She looked like a ghost even to herself. How could Lucas possibly find her attractive?

Sylvia hadn't always been this way.

She and Lucas had been married for six years.

From the initial sweetness and affection to gradually drifting apart over the issue of children.

Three years into the marriage without a child, Bianca Brown showed her first clear signs of dissatisfaction and took Sylvia for a comprehensive medical examination.

The results showed that both parties were generally healthy, but their DNA was somewhat incompatible, requiring IVF.

From that day on, in order to conceive as soon as possible, Sylvia gave up her high-paying translation job and embarked on a long and painful IVF journey.

At first, Lucas had been sympathetic.

Every time she went to the hospital, he would accompany her, and when she winced from the injections, he would hold her hand tightly and tell her, "Sylvia, you're working so hard. Maybe we should just not have kids."

But how could she give up?

The Smith family had been single-heir for three generations. Bianca's gaze toward her had shifted from initial courtesy to scrutiny and dissatisfaction. Sylvia didn't want to put Lucas in a difficult position.

So, cycle after cycle of ovarian stimulation and monitoring—her body gradually deformed under the influence of medications, and her emotions became increasingly unstable.

Lucas's patience was also worn away bit by bit in the process.

He stopped accompanying her to the hospital. He came home later and later. They spoke less and less.

Eventually, even their perfunctory attempts at intimacy ceased.

She had thought Lucas was just under a lot of stress. It turned out his heart had already transferred to another young, pretty girl.

Sylvia stood there, stunned for a long time, before slowly moving her feet and calling a car.

As soon as she got home, she heard Bianca on the phone in her room.

"I'm telling you, Lucas is perfectly healthy! Not a single problem! The issue is definitely with that woman! You have no idea—she's fat and ugly now, with spots all over her face. Just looking at her, you can tell she can't have children!"

Sylvia stood in the doorway, her hands unconsciously clenching into fists, knuckles white, her heart plunging into an icy abyss.

Her six years of sacrifice, all the pain and endurance—in their eyes, she was nothing more than a woman who couldn't bear children.

Bianca, who was on the phone, turned and saw Sylvia had returned. She froze for a moment, quickly hung up, and asked with a frown, "When did you get back?"

"Just now. Not long ago," Sylvia said quietly.

Bianca looked her up and down, noticed the report in her hand, and asked impatiently, "How did it go this time? Are you pregnant?"

When Sylvia didn't respond, Bianca's expression darkened further. She stood up and snatched the report from Sylvia's hand.

When she saw the word failed on the report, Bianca exploded. "I knew it! Your belly is completely useless!"

Sylvia said softly, "The doctor said this time it's not my problem. It's Lucas who—"

"Stop talking nonsense!" Bianca interrupted her harshly. "You can't get pregnant yourself, and now you're trying to blame Lucas?"

Then she launched into a relentless tirade against Sylvia.

"Lucas is young and strong, healthy as can be! How could there possibly be anything wrong with him?"

"Why don't you look in the mirror at yourself! Fat and ugly! Having to look at your face every day—how could Lucas possibly be okay?"

"I said it from the beginning—someone from your low-class background could never amount to anything, and you certainly don't have the fortune to bear a son! The Smith family must have been blind to agree to let Lucas marry you!"

The venomous words were like countless flying blades, piercing Sylvia's heart densely.

In the past, she would have lowered her head and apologized, hoping Bianca wouldn't be angry.

But now, thinking of Lucas and Lynn's affectionate scene in the jewelry store, she only felt exhausted and absurd.

"I'm telling you, Sylvia!" Bianca grew even more aggressive when she didn't respond. "If you still can't have a child, then divorce Lucas! Stop occupying the position of Mrs. Smith..."

"Okay," Sylvia lifted her head, looking at her expressionlessly.

Bianca froze, not expecting her to agree so readily.

Sylvia looked at her, her voice calm. "You're right. I shouldn't be occupying the position of Mrs. Smith anymore. When Lucas comes home, I'll bring up divorce with him."

This family she had spent six years of her youth protecting, sacrificing her health and career for—it now seemed like nothing but a joke.

Bianca opened her mouth, momentarily at a loss for words.

Sylvia didn't bother with her anymore. Instead, she turned and walked upstairs, returning to the bedroom.

She pulled out a yellowed business card from a bedroom drawer and dialed the number on it.

"Hello, you mentioned before that Novaria invited me to work as a translator, right?"

Sylvia took a deep breath, staring at the wedding photo of her and Lucas on the wall, and said calmly, "I've made up my mind. I'll go."