Chapter 2

The next morning, I said to Randell, "Let's go back to the Riveras together." His expression stiffened for a second, but he quickly regained his composure. "Alright. We'll just drop off our gift, then come home." I knew he didn't want me to go. He didn't want me to disturb May. However, I just wanted to go back home and take one last look at my family. After all, I was planning to leave tomorrow. By the time we reached the Rivera residence, the place was already filled with guests congratulating May on her pregnancy, as well as her acceptance into the international art exhibition. May was surrounded by a whole host of people. Everyone was complimenting her and saying that the painting she submitted would surely win the grand prize. They also mentioned how the famous calligrapher, Evol May, personally inscribed something on the painting. They mused that it was truly a perfect pairing, unmatched in artistry. When she saw me walk in, May's expression visibly stiffened for a second, but she quickly regained her composure. There was a polite smile on her lips, but her tone was filled with mockery as she remarked, "You're here too, Julia? You must be very free these days." I ignored her taunt as my eyes were focused on the painting on display. It looked so familiar that it pained me. It was a painting I had stored away after I finished it years ago. It had never been displayed even once. How did my painting end up here? How did it become her entry for the competition at the international art exhibition? May looked at me with a faint smile before she suddenly leaned in, saying softly yet tauntingly, "Do you like this painting that much, Julia?" I shot her a cold look, but just as I was about to say something, she suddenly cried out, "No!" I didn't even have a chance to react before she stumbled backward, clutching her belly and looking pained. The surrounding guests immediately erupted into a frenzy. "What happened?" "May's pregnant! How can someone bump into her?" "Quick, get the doctor!" Amidst the commotion, I heard a panicked voice yell, "May!" Others might not be able to recognize the voice, but I could, instantly. It was Randell's voice. There was no hiding the care and tenderness in his eyes, and they pierced through the last shred of hope I had been holding onto. When he saw me looking at him, Randell quickly calmed himself down. He turned to me, and his tone was gentle but still tinged with hints of blame as he said, "No matter what, May is pregnant right now. You shouldn't have pushed her." Right then, news arrived that the painting had entered the finals, and there was a very good chance it would win the grand prize. A flash of undeniable joy crossed his face. That was an expression I had never seen in the past five years. I asked him in a low voice, "Why is May's painting exactly like mine?" He stiffened for a second before returning to normal. "It might be a coincidence. Maybe her art style is just similar to yours," he said, pretending to be oblivious. I scoffed, not saying anything more. I had locked that painting in my private gallery, and only a few people had access to the key. That, combined with the inscription on the painting, told me everything I needed to know. He might have used an alias, but the inscription was written in the exact same calligraphy style as the one Randell had used for his written prayers. It was obvious how the painting had gotten here and who had been behind it. I had intended for this painting to be a present for him for our five-year wedding anniversary. But now that I thought about it, since our marriage itself was a sham, the painting was pretty much meaningless now, too. I let out a laugh so light, it was probably hard to discern my mood. Randell seemingly sensed that something was off about me, and his expression stiffened. He then suggested, "How about we leave now? Let's go somewhere where we can relax." I looked up at him, and my lips curled up into a faint smile. "Let's take a yacht out for a night cruise. We can even catch the sunrise tomorrow."