Just like the evening breeze leaves no trace

Catherine finally stopped crying, her smile returning as she took Roger’s arm and walked away.

A bitter smile touched Carolyn’s lips.

So Roger loved Catherine that much—he was even willing to get a vasectomy, just to have children with her alone.

Her hand drifted to her abdomen, to the three-month-old life growing inside.

Well, she was remarrying soon anyway. An unwanted child would only bring more pain.

Wiping her tears, Carolyn made a call.

“Schedule an abortion for me. Now.”

The procedure was quick.

She hadn’t even had a moment to rest before Roger called.

“Carolyn, you’re not home?”

Her voice felt numb. “What do you want?”

He paused, then spoke with forced patience. “Alright, sweetheart, enough with the tantrum. I had an anniversary gift custom-made for you. Come home and see it.”

Dragging her aching body, Carolyn returned.

The moment she opened the door, she saw the uninvited guest.

“Oh, Carolyn, you’re back?”

Catherine stood in the living room directing workers like she owned the place—more the lady of the house than Carolyn had ever been.

In the center of the room stood a sculpture half a person tall.

But when the cloth was pulled away, Carolyn’s eyes widened in shock.

Naked bodies intertwined. A woman pinned beneath several men, her face etched with rapture.

And the woman’s face… was unmistakably hers.

“You—!”

Catherine’s smile was venomous. “What’s wrong, Carolyn? Don’t you like it? Roger specially commissioned this as your birthday gift. Art imitates life, after all. I personally hired a master sculptor. Look at that face—it’s you, isn’t it?”

Before she finished, Carolyn’s hand shot out, slapping her hard across the face.

Her heart felt torn open.

This sculpture… it was a grotesque mockery of the assault she’d survived!

A triumphant gleam flashed in Catherine’s eyes before she burst into tears, her gaze shifting behind Carolyn. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carolyn! I don’t know what I did wrong, but please, don’t hit me…”

“Catherine!”

The next second, a powerful shove sent Carolyn sprawling to the floor.

“Carolyn, how dare you! Why would you hit her?”

Stunned, she looked up at Roger, who had rushed over. The eyes that once held so much love for her now burned with resentment.

“Why…”

Her voice broke, tears falling freely. “Why did you tell her? Why!”

That was her most painful, buried memory—the secret Roger had once sworn to take to his grave. Now Catherine was using it to mock her, tearing open a scar that had barely healed, forcing her to remember the shame forever.

Only then did Roger seem to notice the sculpture.

Catherine whimpered, playing the victim. “I’m sorry, Roger. I didn’t know Mrs. Carolyn would hate the sculpture I chose so much. I’ll kneel and apologize to her…”

Roger shielded Catherine protectively, his eyes full of disappointment as they landed on Carolyn.

“I chose the gift. Why take it out on Catherine? Apologize to her. Now.”

Carolyn opened her mouth to argue, but a sharp, post-procedure pain shot through her—a brutal reminder.

What was the point of reasoning with him now? Whoever he loved, he would defend.

“Roger, I won’t apologize. She knows exactly what she was trying to do.” She took a slow, pained breath. “And one more thing. I want a divorce.”