Loving you is my eternal agony carved in bones

I lay on the ground like a dog.

Suddenly laughed.

Laughed till tears came out.

Pointing at Lucas, he spoke desperately:

"I'm crazy! You've driven me crazy!"

"Lucas, you beast, you actually did such a disgusting thing in front of your daughter's photo, you will die!"

The man glanced at me coldly and said nonchalantly:

"It was just in front of a crappy photo. We didn't do it in front of her, Sophie. Don't go crazy here!"

"At worst I can just take her to take another photo tomorrow. That should be fine, right?"

I sneered.

He still has the nerve to mention his daughter?

Just as he was about to speak, Lucas put on his clothes and went to the door to look for him, but he didn't see the familiar figure. He asked in confusion:

"Where's Emily? Why doesn't she come out to say hello to me?"

I wiped away my tears, suppressed the trembling in my throat, and said word by word:

"Emily is dead!"

Hearing this, Lucas' body suddenly stiffened. Just as he was about to ask, Isabella fell into his arms and said timidly:

"Sophie, you don't want to say that Emily was crucified!"

"And this photo happens to be the posthumous photo you chose."

"If that's the case, then your lying skills are too poor. Those nails are specially made soft nails. They won't hurt at all!

As soon as he finished speaking, the man who had a calm expression just now suddenly became cold and hard.

He picked me up from the ground, his eyes filled with poison, wishing he could torture me to death.

"Sophie, you are willing to say anything to win favor now, and you even cursed your own daughter!"

"Are you still worthy of being a mother?"

When I mentioned my daughter, I looked at him angrily with red eyes:

"Lucas, you are not allowed to mention my daughter, you murderer! You don't deserve it!"

Lucas instantly flew into a rage and increased the force of his hands. The air I could breathe became less and less. Just when I thought I was finally going to be with my daughter,

But Lucas threw me to the ground.

"Don't think that showing this expression will make me soft-hearted! Since you hit Isabella today, you must pay the price!"

After saying that, he strode forward, picked up the photo of his daughter on the ground, and revealed a cruel expression.

I hurriedly shook my head and begged frantically:

"don't want--"

"Lucas, this is my daughter's..."

Before he could finish his words, he tore the portrait in half with a swish sound.

With red eyes, I rushed over to snatch the photo from his hand, but my foot stepped on the broken glass next to me.

But I didn't feel any pain at all, instead I held my daughter's photo tightly in my arms.

Tears flowed unconsciously from the corners of my eyes: I looked at him fiercely: "Lucas, one day you will regret it, I'm waiting!"

The man sneered, "It's just a photo, I won't regret it!"

After saying that, he left gracefully, holding Isabella in his arms.

And I cried while holding my daughter's photo until dawn.

When the time came, I went to the funeral home with the photos.

As soon as I walked to the door, I saw Arthur angrily saying to his men: "Keep looking, what day is today? It's not right for him, a father, not to show up!"

At this moment, my phone suddenly vibrated. It was a message Isabella forwarded to my circle of friends.

It says [Welcome little one] on it.

In the accompanying picture, Lucas was kneeling on one knee and kissing her belly, his face full of joy.

He was holding a B-ultrasound photo in his hand.

I bit my lips tightly, but my heart ached.