Chapter 1

"9:00 pm tonight, Samuel's welcome dinner. Are you coming?"

Shelmaine Clarke was still at the studio working overtime when she received the message from her best friend, Isabelle Zach. She was dealing with a difficult client who had rejected her design draft seven or eight times.

After half a month of overtime, she glanced at her phone screen, momentarily lost in thought.

He was back?

But before Shelmaine could feel any excitement, she checked her phone again—there were no messages or calls from Samuel Hasting.

She had been so busy lately that she thought she might have missed something, but it turned out that no one had informed her.

"Shelly, I have more bad news—Natasha is here too."

Isabelle sent another message.

Shelmaine paused for a moment, a faint, self-deprecating smile on her lips.

Even now, she was the last to know he had returned.

"Have fun without me. I'm not going."

Shelmaine replied to Isabelle, turned off the lights, and locked the door. Then, she left the studio.

...

Shelmaine returned to her apartment in the early hours of the morning. After a quick shower, she went to bed.

Not long after, Samuel came back.

Shelmaine was a light sleeper, and the sounds outside woke her up.

Samuel reeked of alcohol as he sat on the sofa smoking a cigarette.

His brows were slightly furrowed while his shirt collar was unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his pale skin and the faint outline of his chest muscles. His features were sharp and defined, and the way his Adam's apple moved as he exhaled the smoke was a tempting feast for the eyes.

"You're back," Shelmaine said.

Samuel lazily lifted his eyes at the sound of her voice and responded with a soft hum. His gaze was cold and unfamiliar, as if he didn't recognize her.

Concerned, Shelmaine said, "Why did you drink so much as soon as you got back? You know your liver isn't good. Please don't drink so much next time." She then turned to pour him a glass of honey lemon tea.

However, Samuel didn't take it and instead pointed to the table for her to set it down.

"Sam..." Shelmaine began.

Samuel pinched the bridge of his nose, his facial features starkly highlighted by the light and shadow. "Let's get a divorce," he said.

The words hit Shelmaine like a punch, and her heart instantly tightened. She swallowed, thinking she must have misheard.

She stayed silent.

"I won't leave you with nothing. If you have any demands, feel free to ask," Samuel added.

Shelmaine remained calm, though her breathing was unsteady. "I have no demands."

"None?" Samuel didn't seem to believe her, his brows knitting together as he studied her.

Shelmaine nodded lightly. "None."

"Is there anything else you want to say to me?"

"No."

Her voice and expression were eerily calm, and it surprised Samuel. It wasn't what he had expected. "I thought you'd cry or make a scene," he said.

"I won't." Shelmaine had always known that forced love was bitter. She'd known it from the start. Clinging to a husband who didn't love her would be too humiliating, and it was something she couldn't bring herself to do.

She couldn't explain why, but she'd had a gut feeling ever since they got married that this day would come.

She just hadn't expected it to come so soon.

Three years of marriage, over just like that.

"I'll have William send you the divorce agreement tomorrow. If you have any concerns, you can discuss them with him," Samuel said.

"Alright." Shelmaine nodded, not deigning to say anything more.

Upon seeing Samuel's tired expression, she stood up. Then she poured him another glass of honey lemon tea, and gently reminded him, "You really should stop drinking so much."

With that, she went back to her room and closed the door behind her.

Soon after, she heard the door open and close—Samuel had left.

Shelmaine bit down hard, her chest tightening in pain. Her throat felt blocked, and it made it hard to breathe.

Shelmaine opened her social media and saw some photos posted by Samuel's friends.

The man in the photos was her soon-to-be ex-husband, accompanied by a young, beautiful woman.

That woman was Natasha Green, the person who had saved Samuel during the darkest time of his youth.

Shelmaine had taken advantage of the situation then, stealing the nest that Natasha should have occupied. But now that the rightful owner was back, it was only natural for her to leave.

...

The next day, the divorce agreement arrived at Shelmaine's studio.

Without even looking at it, Shelmaine flipped to the last page and signed her name.

William Lloyd, the lawyer, observed this and asked, "Mrs. Hasting, shouldn't you review it first? Just in case—"

"He's always been generous. He won't shortchange me. And even if he wanted to take advantage of me, I wouldn't stand a chance against your company's legal team." Shelmaine handed the agreement back to him and reminded, "William, I'm no longer 'Mrs. Hasting.'"

William didn't argue and simply smiled slightly. With his task complete, he then exchanged a few pleasantries with Shelmaine and prepared to leave.

However, just as he was about to go, Shelmaine suddenly stopped him. "One moment."

"Yes?"

After a moment of serious thought, Shelmaine asked, "I'm going on a business trip in a few days. Could you check if he has time to go to the courthouse tomorrow or the day after to finalize the divorce?"

"In such a hurry? I'm not sure. Mr. Hasting didn't say." William was a bit surprised.

Who was in a rush to get divorced here? It seemed like Mrs. Hasting was more eager than Mr. Hasting.

"Please ask him for me," Shelmaine requested.

"Sure."

...

The next time Shelmaine would see Samuel was at the courthouse to finalize their divorce.

Samuel seemed to be in a rush. His phone was ringing non-stop, unable to stay silent for even a moment.

Meanwhile, Shelmaine quietly waited without saying a word nor looking at him.

Only when he'd finished his call did she say, "Everything's ready. Just sign them."

While Samuel was on the phone, Shelmaine had already taken a number to queue and submitted the paperwork.

That day must have been a popular day for weddings because the neighboring windows were crowded with couples getting married. In contrast, there were only a few there for divorces.

Shelmaine tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, revealing her serene and graceful visage.

Today, she wore light makeup and a bright red dress that accentuated her figure. She didn't notice Samuel's gaze lingering on her for a moment. When she turned around, his gaze had already shifted away, and she didn't notice a thing.

"Please take these. Here are your divorce certificates," the courthouse officer said.

Shelmaine carefully took her copy and tucked it away in her bag.

The feeling she had now was completely different from what she'd felt when she had first gotten her marriage certificate.

Samuel's car was parked by the curb. As they walked out of the courthouse, he turned to look at her.

However, Shelmaine spoke first, "Goodbye."

Samuel suddenly asked, "You're just going to leave like that?"

Shelmaine looked at him, puzzled.

Samuel had one hand in his pocket, and despite his casual posture, he had a striking appearance that commanded attention from some people nearby. But he was used to the attention by now and was indifferent to others' gazes.

His deep eyes studied Shelmaine. "You really don't want anything from me?"

"Hm?" Shelmaine was confused. "Are you worried that I'll pester you? Don't worry, I won't. I hope you'll find true love."

Samuel was about to say something when his phone rang again. He was busy and had only carved out some time to finalize the divorce. He hadn't expected Shelmaine to be in such a hurry. It was as if she couldn't wait to move on.

Meanwhile, Shelmaine didn't say anything more. Everything that needed to be said had been said.

Soon, her ride arrived, and she left without looking back.

Chapter 2

"Are you really going to divorce Samuel?" Isabelle burst into Shelmaine's studio, grabbing her and bombarding her with questions. "Are you serious? You're just going to divorce him and hand Samuel over to Natasha on a silver platter?

"You're practically pushing him into her arms! That witch, Natasha, will be laughing in her sleep! How could you be so foolish?"

Shelmaine was still working on the design draft that the client had kept rejecting. No matter how many times she revised it, they were never satisfied.

The truth was, they just wanted to get the most expensive jewelry at the cheapest price, and this was just something Shelmaine couldn't deliver. So, she was stuck with endlessly negotiating and revising the proposal.

Shelmaine massaged her temples and found a moment to respond to Isabelle. She said, "The divorce is already done. It's too late to regret it now."

"You—" Isabelle clutched her chest, feeling like she might have a heart attack. "No, listen, everyone knows Natasha's feelings for Samuel are one-sided. Samuel just sees her as a sister!

"Even if there's a chance, as long as you don't divorce him, you're his wife! Natasha can't touch your position!" Isabelle said.

Shelmaine remained silent, her eyes fixed on the computer screen.

Upon seeing how calm she was, Isabelle grew even more frustrated. "Are you really just going to let it end like this? You're not even a little bitter? Weren't you two getting along well?"

Isabelle asked this because she knew how deeply in love Shelmaine and Samuel had been. They were the perfect couple, so how could they divorce over someone like Natasha?

"We got along well because there was no love," Shelmaine calmly replied. "He doesn't love me, so it doesn't matter who he marries. After all, I don't want to spend my life with someone who doesn't love me."

Isabelle's eyes widened. "He told you that he doesn't love you?"

Shelmaine's voice was soft and almost detached as she said, "One time, when he was drunk, he called out someone else's name.

"It wasn't mine."

Isabelle was speechless. She hadn't known about this, and Shelmaine had never mentioned it before either.

She looked at Shelmaine's expressionless face and sighed. "I should have stopped you from rushing into the marriage…"

Shelmaine fell silent as memories began flooding back to her.

She had met Samuel at a party where she had been drunk and mistook him for a driver. She'd asked him to take her home, and after he dropped her off, they added each other on WhatsApp.

Later on, a month of chatting turned into feelings.

Shelmaine liked Samuel, and he'd agreed when she'd asked him out for dinner. They had a few drinks, and she invited him upstairs, and one thing led to another.

The next morning, Shelmaine had felt a hint of regret.

It had been her first time with a man, but she told herself that they were both adults and could move on without expecting anything more. She told him they could pretend it never happened.

But Samuel was serious. "Some things can't be undone once they happen. I believe you can't ignore that either," he had said.

He then suggested they get married, but Shelmaine didn't agree right away.

"Then I want you to take responsibility for me," Samuel said, and he wasn't joking.

Eventually, they got married, and Shelmaine couldn't deny it—she had fallen for him.

They registered their marriage quickly and got married without a wedding nor a banquet. They hadn't even invited any friends. It was such a small event that only a few of her close friends, including Isabelle, knew about it.

After the wedding, they bought a place, which was now the Hasting residence. Samuel had paid for it and had refused to let Shelmaine contribute. So, she took on the responsibility of renovating their home with her own savings.

In many ways, Samuel was the ideal husband—gentle, considerate, with a respectable job and no bad habits. He was even thoughtful enough to send gifts on special occasions.

He wasn't like other men—he was a bit of a clean freak and almost obsessively tidy. Their life together was fulfilling, and there wasn't anything to complain about.

Shelmaine had even considered the possibility of having a child with him despite not being fond of children herself. But when she brought it up, his expression turned cold.

"You're still young, practically a child yourself. There's no rush," he'd said.

At first, she'd agreed with him. After all, he did have a point. So, she dropped the idea.

After that, Samuel started staying out late and often went on business trips.

This went on for months, and soon, Shelmaine began hearing rumors. Someone added her on WhatsApp and sent her messages saying that Samuel was seeing someone else and urged her to divorce him.

At first, she thought that it was a prank. Besides, how could a man like Samuel not have a few exes?

Then, earlier this year, Samuel returned from a trip with traces of another woman—perfume on his clothes. There were also late-night calls that she'd answered, and she'd found out that Samuel had married her out of spite.

He didn't want to build a life with her; he just wanted to use their marriage to hurt someone else.

And that someone was Natasha.

There was no point in holding on to a man like that.

Over the past few years, Shelmaine had gained something too.

Samuel's body was incredible—lean and muscular. It wasn't a bad deal to have spent those nights with him.

With that in mind, she found some comfort.

As for him and Natasha, Shelmaine didn't want to dwell on it anymore.

She had truly invested her emotions in the marriage, and now that the marriage was over, it felt like a part of her soul had been ripped away.

Isabelle could see Shelmaine's thinly veiled despair and felt a pang of sympathy. "Don't worry about it, Shelly. Scumbags like him deserve to be with trashy women. We don't need him. Just forget about it. Don't let it get to you."

"I'm not sad," Shelmaine quietly said. "I'm just grateful I didn't have a child with him."

Shelmaine had a difficult childhood—her parents divorced when she was ten years old, and she was placed with her father. Later on, he had left her in the care of a nanny while he remarried and started a new family.

Despite that, her father had never let her down financially. But once she turned 18 and started college, she stopped taking a cent from him, and they only met up for dinners during the festive seasons. Otherwise, they had no contact.

That was part of the reason why she didn't want a big wedding with Samuel—she didn't want to involve her family.

Isabelle knew all this and felt deeply sorry for Shelmaine. She said, "Don't worry. There's plenty of fish in the sea. You've got looks and money. You'll find someone better."

Shelmaine couldn't help but smile.

Upon seeing this, Isabelle finally felt a bit relieved. "So, what's your plan now? What about the house you two shared?"

Shelmaine said, "I'll move out of the Hasting residence first. As for the house… I won't be living there. I'll sell it.

"Belle, you have a friend who's a realtor, right? Can they help me sell it?"

"Of course! Leave it to me." Isabelle patted her chest confidently. "Just wait for the good news!"

Chapter 3

Shelmaine returned to the Hasting residence to move out.

After packing, she realized that she didn't have much belongings, and just a few large boxes were enough to fit all her things. The rest was Samuel's stuff, though he didn't have much either. Most of his things were work-related items.

Worried that she might overlook something important, Shelmaine hesitated before deciding to call Samuel and ask him to come over and collect his things.

However, when she dialed his number, Natasha answered instead. She said, "Hello, who is this?"

Shelmaine's breath caught in her throat, and she couldn't find her voice.

After a moment, Natahsa said, "I know who you are. Shelmaine, right?"

Shelmaine didn't deny it and calmly answered, "Yes, I need to speak with Samuel."

"He's not available to take your call. Whatever you need to tell him, you can tell me."

Shelmaine bit her lip. Deep down, she wasn't as composed as she appeared—she still cared, but she forced herself to act indifferent.

Natasha continued, "Ms. Clarke, if you still have any lingering thoughts, I suggest you drop them. The divorce papers are signed. What, are you having second thoughts now?"

"I grew up with Sammy, so I know him very well. But do you? Did he ever bring you home to meet his family? No, right? Do you know why he never did? Because they would never accept you, so he didn't bother," she mockingly said.

She continued, "I was the one who refused to be with him in the first place. He only married you out of spite. You were never supposed to be part of the picture. This mistake has gone on long enough, and it's time to correct it. Don't contact him again, and stop making excuses."

Shelmaine was at a loss for words.

She truly didn't know much about Samuel's family background. She had brought it up before, but her own family situation was complicated.

She hadn't told her parents about the marriage, and out of insecurity about her own background, she hadn't asked about Samuel's either. Moreover, since he didn't mention it, the matter was left unresolved.

Natasha hung up, and Shelmaine didn't try calling back. After calming herself down, she contacted Samuel's driver, Brody McGrath, to arrange for his belongings to be picked up.

"Hello, Brody, it's Shelmaine. When are you available to come by and pick Samuel's things up?"

"I'll have to check with Mr. Hasting first, Ms. Clarke."

Shelmaine could sense Brody's hesitation and understood the situation. She said, "If it's easier, you can give me an address, and I'll send his things over. That way, you don't have to make a trip."

"Well..."

"Is that not possible?"

"Without Mr. Hasting's permission, I can't give out his address. I hope you understand, Ms. Clarke. It's a matter of his privacy." Brody's voice was polite and careful, as if he didn't want to offend her.

Or perhaps, he was worried that she might try to hold him on the line to get the address.

"Alright, I understand. Please check with him then," Shelmaine simply replied.

Shortly after, Brody called back and courteously said, "Ms. Clarke, Mr. Hasting said that those are just unimportant items. If you don't want them, you can throw them out."

For some reason, Shelmaine's heart tightened. "Those were his exact words?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I understand. Sorry to trouble you then."

Shelmaine hung up quickly, feeling a pang of discomfort.

She had only been pretending to be carefree, but she couldn't deny that three years of marriage had left her with many feelings. After all, if she hadn't cared, she wouldn't have spent so many nights sharing a bed with Samuel.

After getting rid of Samuel's things, Shelmaine left the Hasting residence.

Later, she moved back into her apartment she'd lived in before she married Samuel.

On her first day there, she received a call from him.

Startled, she wondered why he was calling at this time. After a few seconds of hesitation, she answered, her voice barely above a whisper, "Yes?"

"What do you want?" Samuel's deep voice came through the phone.

"Nothing," Shelmaine flatly replied.

"Brody told me that he went to the Hasting residence this morning. You're selling the house?"

So, he was well-informed.

Shelmaine didn't plan to hide it. The house was hers now, and how she handled it was her decision. Besides, she had done nothing wrong in the marriage and had no reason to be secretive.

She said, "Yes, I'm selling it."

"Where are you staying now?"

"I have a place."

"You don't like the Hasting residence anymore? Didn't you once say you loved the area?" Samuel's voice was calm and almost indifferent too.

Shelmaine had casually said that before, but she hadn't expected him to remember.

After taking a deep breath, she replied, "I don't like it anymore." Then, she added, "I called earlier to ask about your things there. I've taken care of them now. If there's nothing else, we don't need to stay in touch anymore."

"Suit yourself."

Was it Shelmaine's imagination, or did Samuel's voice sound a bit angry?

No, she was probably just imagining it.

...

Samuel ended the call first and tossed his phone onto the table. His gaze darkened, and the air around him became more oppressive.

His hand pressed against his forehead, an unspoken frustration weighing on him.

Brody, who had been standing nearby, felt the pressure mounting. He knew exactly where it was coming from, especially after having gone to the Hasting residence that morning.

After learning that the house was already listed for sale, he had immediately informed Mr. Hasting, and Mr. Hasting didn't seem too pleased.

As for why, Brody didn't dare to ask.

Samuel lit a cigarette and slowly drew in the smoke. His brow furrowed deeply, and the haze obscured his sharp features.

It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

"Mr. Hasting, what should we do about the house? Should I talk to Ms. Clarke?" Brody asked.

Samuel flicked the ash off his cigarette. "No need. The house is hers now. How she deals with it is her business."

So, Brody said no more.

After a while, Samuel's expression became less irritable, though his emotions remained muted. He asked, "Do you know where she's staying now?"

"I believe she's moved back to her old place," Brody answered with uncertainty. "That's what I heard from Ms. Zach."

To ensure Samuel remembered who Ms. Zach was, Brody added, "Ms. Zach is Ms. Clarke's friend."

Samuel's gaze turned cold, as if Brody's clarification was unnecessary.

Brody fell silent.

Chapter 4

After the phone call with Natasha, Shelmaine didn't contact Samuel again. Instead, she threw herself into her work and finally completed her design draft.

The client had initially tried to push for some concessions, but Shelmaine stood her ground more firmly than before.

She told them that there was no way to make any more changes. The budget was fixed, and any further revisions would require additional payment.

As soon as she mentioned more money, the client reluctantly dropped the issue and grudgingly paid the final balance. However, they couldn't resist adding, "You're not exactly a famous designer. Your rates are almost on par with those top-tier brands if you charge this much."

Upon hearing this, Shelmaine didn't get angry. Instead, she patiently explained that custom jewelry design came with such costs.

But no matter how she explained it, the client still felt that her rates were too high. They lingered at the studio for quite a while before grumbling and finally leaving.

The studio wasn't solely Shelmaine's. She co-owned it with a friend. However, her friend had been staying home to care for her child after getting married, so Shelmaine had been managing things on her own lately.

That evening, Shelmaine had a dinner appointment with Felicity Westwood, a former client. Normally, Shelmaine would avoid such engagements since she wasn't good at socializing, but Felicity had been so enthusiastic about it that she couldn't refuse.

Little did she know, Natasha would be there too.

When Natasha saw Shelmaine, a contemptuous smile appeared on her face.

"Felicity, did you invite her?" Natasha asked.

"Yes, I did. Let me introduce you—this is Mainey, a jewelry designer. She did the set I wore for my wedding," Felicity said.

"So, it was that set. I knew it looked familiar." Natasha pointed at Shelmaine and said in front of everyone at the dinner, "Did you copy some big brand for my cousin's jewelry? The design looked awfully similar."

Shelmaine had no intention of clashing with Natasha. If she'd known Natasha would be there, she wouldn't have come.

Technically, this was their first meeting. They had never crossed paths before.

"That seems unlikely," Felicity said, looking unsure. "Mainey has quite a good reputation. I don't think she'd do something like that."

Despite her words, Felicity's eyes were already filled with doubt as she looked at Shelmaine.

Shelmaine said, "Mrs. Westwood, I assure you, the jewelry I designed for you was not plagiarized. I would never do such a thing."

Then, someone pulled out a photo, and the group started to discuss it.

"No wonder it looked so familiar. Now that I see it, the design does seem very similar."

"These days, anyone and everyone can claim to be a designer. Mrs. Westwood, you might have been scammed. This so-called designer seems pretty second-rate. You should have gone with a top-tier brand, someone with a reputation and guarantee."

Sharp gazes turned toward Shelmaine.

They only trusted Natasha and had no faith in Shelmaine.

Shelmaine knew that Natasha was deliberately causing trouble, so staying any longer was pointless.

She said, "If you believe I copied some brand, you can provide evidence, or we can have it assessed by a professional body.

"Mrs. Westwood, I apologize for this unpleasant experience. If you feel that there was an issue, you can have it appraised or take legal action. If it's proven to be my fault, I will have no defense. But if it's not, I won't admit to something I didn't do.

"Again, I apologize. I'll take my leave now."

Shelmaine turned to leave, but Natasha followed her and caught up with her in the corridor, blocking her path. "Shelmaine, did I say you could leave?"

Shelmaine stopped and stared at her coldly. "Is there something you need?"

"Is this your attitude?" Natasha scoffed.

"What kind of attitude did you expect?"

"Shouldn't you first explain things to my cousin?"

Shelmaine looked her over.

Natasha's makeup was flawless, and her hair was perfectly styled. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, and her clothes and accessories exuded a sense of luxury.

If judged by appearance alone, Natasha certainly had the allure to captivate any man.

But...

Shelmaine curved her lips into a sudden smile. "Are you jealous of me?"

"Jealous of you? Why would I be jealous of you?" Natasha found the idea laughable.

Chapter 5

"Why would you frame me if it wasn't true?" Shelmaine retorted.

"I didn't!" Natasha bit her red lip. "I'm just stating the facts. Someone like you still dares to cling—"

"To Samuel?" Shelmaine cut her off. "We're already divorced. I have no intention of clinging onto him."

"Who knows what you're really up to? I'm warning you again, stay far away from him!" Natasha exclaimed.

Shelmaine didn't want to argue any further and turned to leave.

But Natasha wasn't done. "Shelmaine, stop acting all high and mighty. Even if you're unwilling to let go, you need to accept that it's over with him."

"I'm not unwilling. Believe it or not, since the divorce, I haven't looked back," Shelmaine said, a slight smile crossing her face. "Ms. Green, there's no point in making things difficult for me. And you can stop sending me all those pictures and videos of how happy you two are."

"Don't think I'll believe you just because you say so. If you really want me to believe you, then get out of our lives forever. Leave South Haven!" Natasha said.

How insecure could Natasha be to want to drive her away entirely? Why should Shelmaine be the one to leave?

Natasha confidently said, "Sammy and I are getting married soon, and we're starting a family. We're going to have children!

"Shelmaine, doesn't that make you feel sick?"

Marriage and children… Those words stirred up some unpleasant memories in Shelmaine's mind.

She pressed her lips together and said, "Marriage, yes. But children? Are you sure about that?"

"What, you don't believe me?" Natasha said.

Shelmaine smiled slightly. "Actually… you might want to suggest that Samuel visit a clinic and maybe get a check-up. Whether or not he can have children is a bit of a question."

She hadn't wanted to say something so harsh, but Natasha had pushed her too far.

Natasha froze, not fully comprehending her words yet.

Shelmaine, in a seemingly helpful tone, added, "Otherwise, why do you think I was in such a hurry to get a divorce? Life with a man who can't… Well, it's not easy."

With that, Shelmaine walked past her and left.

...

"You told Natasha that Samuel couldn't do it? Wait, really?" Isabelle asked in surprise as Shelmaine recounted the evening's events back at her apartment.

Despite appearing calm, Shelmaine felt a deep sense of unease.

"Is that why you two didn't have kids? Because Samuel couldn't?" Isabelle asked.

Shelmaine rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Aren't you focusing on the wrong thing here?"

Now, she was starting to regret saying anything at all. What if Samuel found out?

But regardless, what was done was done.

Isabelle was skeptical. "No way. Really?"

"I don't know. Maybe Natasha is an exception for him, and they'll have a baby soon... Ugh..." Halfway through her sentence, Shelmaine felt a wave of nausea and quickly rushed to the bathroom.

"Shelly, are you okay?" Isabelle hurriedly asked.

Shelmaine looked at her reflection in the mirror and realized that her complexion was pale and sickly. She pressed her lips together and took a moment to steady herself. "I'm fine. I just didn't eat tonight. I'm probably just feeling a little sick from hunger."

Isabelle fell silent for a moment before cautiously asking, "When was the last time you had your period?"

Shelmaine froze at Isabelle's question. Her cycle had always been irregular, so she'd never kept track. Samuel had made it clear that he didn't want children, and they had always used protection too.

Since taking pills could have side effects, and Shelmaine's health had always been delicate, Samuel had never made her take them either. Instead, he always took care of the precautions himself.

"Shelly, maybe you should go to the hospital for a check-up tomorrow?" Isabelle gently suggested.