A suffocating sensation rushed over her. Like a drowning woman, she clung to Frederick's arm as if he were her only lifeline.

But in the very next instant, he pulled his arm away without a shred of mercy, leaving her with nothing but the sight of his retreating back.

Suddenly losing her support, Maeve stumbled forward, throwing her arms out to block his path.

The grievances she had suppressed for days finally erupted. With bloodshot eyes, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Let me make this clear, Frederick. If you insist on going to Zoe today, we're done!"

"Maeve!" Frederick roared, his face pale with fury. He had completely lost his patience.

"Can you be reasonable for once? Stop throwing a tantrum!"

Maeve froze at his shout. Her heart ached as if it were being crushed, a suffocating wave of despair taking over. Tears spun in her eyes, but she dug her nails into her palms, desperately fighting to keep them from falling.

At that moment, Frederick's phone screen lit up with an incoming call. He didn't answer it, merely casting a dismissive glance at Maeve.

"I'm going to check on Charlie. We'll talk about this when I get back."

Without giving Maeve a chance to respond, Frederick marched straight down the stairs.

Maeve watched as he finally answered the call, his gentle, coaxing tone drifting up to her ears.

"Be a good boy, Charlie."

"Listen to your mother. I'm on my way."

The sound of a car engine soon echoed from below.

Maeve watched helplessly as the Maybach pulled out of the driveway.

She stood at the top of the stairs, her hand still gripping the railing in a deathly tight hold.

It was happening again.

Six months ago, on the day of his brother Felix's funeral, he claimed Zoe was overwhelmed and needed rest, so he escorted her away. Since then, whether Zoe had morning sickness or a mild fever, all it took was a single phone call for him to get up and abandon Maeve.

Every single time, he left her with nothing but his retreating back.

She was supposed to be his wife, yet she felt completely invisible.

Gradually, Maeve's gaze drifted toward the living room. The flowers and balloons she had arranged to celebrate their third wedding anniversary were still there.

In the dining room sat the steak they had just finished and the half-empty glasses of red wine. The rose petals on the master bed, which she had painstakingly scattered one by one, were now nothing but a chaotic mess.

Looking at it all, visions of Frederick caring so tenderly for Zoe flashed relentlessly in her mind.

The two contrasting scenes violently collided in her head. Her temples throbbed, and the squeezing pressure in her chest made it impossible to breathe.

"Ugh—"

A sudden wave of nausea hit her. Maeve hurriedly covered her mouth and sprinted into the bathroom, dropping to her knees as she threw up.

Before she could catch her breath, a sharp, stabbing pain suddenly tore through her lower abdomen.

The relentless cramping drained the strength from her body. In a daze, she saw her own face reflected on the polished marble floor, as pale as a ghost.

She had never felt so sick in her life. It felt like she was dying.

Gritting her teeth, Maeve forced herself up. Swaying on her feet, she dragged herself back to the master bedroom to find her phone. With her last ounce of strength, she dialed Frederick's number.

The line rang out in the quiet room.

She pressed the phone tightly to her ear, waiting for what felt like an eternity, only to be met with a cold, automated voice.

"The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later..."

Refusing to give up, Maeve pressed the screen again and redialed.

The line rang again. Still no answer.

Her vision grew darker by the second.

A heavy thud echoed in the room.

The phone slipped from her fingertips as her body collapsed heavily onto the cold floor.

On the other end of the line, Frederick was waiting at a red light.

Inside the silent Maybach, the phone rang persistently, inexplicably grating on his nerves.

He glanced at the screen. The caller ID read: Mae.

Clearly, she wasn't done throwing her tantrum.

His lips pressed into a thin line. He picked up the phone, declined the call, and then turned the device completely off.

Peace finally returned to the car.