Secrets beneath the surface

Chapter 1

Unsaid

Peter abruptly stood up: "That's impossible!"

"These past few days, so much has happened."

I met Peter gaze steadily. "First, Paul was dead set on getting together with Martha Janet..."

Peter, usually the epitome of composure, now spoke with a voice trembling with fear:

"He's just being immature, honey. I've never crossed any lines myself."

"You can hate Paul, you can blame me..."

"But you can't leave me."

By the end, his words were almost pleading.

Yet once again, he shifted the blame onto Paul...

As if completely unaware that the pain I endured was all due to his silent approval, his indulgence.

Nor would he ever realize that the love I'd accumulated for him over years of being together had vanished entirely the moment I fell down those stairs yesterday...

"And then, I suddenly discovered that despite your promise to cut ties with her..."

"The two of you still keep in close contact."

Peter lips parted, then closed again.

Clearly caught off guard that I'd uncovered his secret dealings.

He clenched his fists, his face twisted in anguish.

I turned to look out the window, my voice low and brittle. "Back then, I thought-maybe I should just divorce you. Let you two have what you want."

"But I couldn't bear to leave Paul behind."

"Ever since he got involved with Martha Janet, his health has deteriorated-his stomach's a wreck. And now... now he's started hurting himself."

"If we really gave in and let Martha Janet become his mother, his life would be hell."

Peter, mistaking my hesitation for surrender, nodded eagerly. "Exactly, honey. That's why we can't get divorced. We can't."

My fingers drifted absently to my stomach, and for the first time, my composure cracked. "And then... I found out I was pregnant."

"For the sake of giving this child a complete family, I forced myself to forgive everything you'd done-tried to convince myself it didn't matter."

But Peter fell silent, his words dying in his throat.

"And what about Paul?" My voice sharpened. "He knew someone had spilled oil on the stairs. He knew exactly what would happen if I walked down them-and he did nothing."

Every detail had been orchestrated by Martha Janet from the shadows.

And Paul? He was aware of it all. Not only did he refuse to stop it-he played along.

How laughable. This was the child I'd poured my heart into raising.

And Peter...

Was he really innocent in all this?

No!

He was one of the key players in this tragedy!

I met his gaze steadily. "The baby is gone, and so is my love for Paul."

"There's nothing left in this house worth staying for."

Right now...

All I want is to escape this suffocating household as soon as possible.

For so many years, I tried my hardest to be the perfect wife, the devoted mother.

But from now on, Mary will just be Mary-no more burdensome labels.

Still, I won't let those who hurt me get away with it.

Peter asked, "What about me?"

I answered without hesitation, "Didn't you say you loved Martha Janet?"

"I'm stepping aside to let you two be together. You should be happy."

I'll never forget that day in the stairwell, when Paul warned me that Martha Janet meant me harm.

Too bad I don't have proof now.

If Peter is blind enough to love such a venomous woman, then fine-I'll let them have each other.

"Dad!" Paul had no idea what this decision of mine truly meant for him.

All he knew was that his dream was finally coming true!

Aunt Janet would soon become his mother!

Paul was overjoyed. He tugged at Peter sleeve, shaking it gently. "Please say yes to Mom!"

Peter snapped coldly, "Shut up!"

Scolded by his father, Paul's face crumpled in hurt, and he burst into loud, wailing sobs.

In the past, the sound of his crying would always tug at my heartstrings. I'd scoop him into my arms, asking what was wrong, then comfort him until his tears dried.

But today, his cries grated on my nerves-irritating, unbearable.

I turned my face toward the window. "Think it over. And... I'm exhausted. Take him out."

Peter seemed about to say more, but seeing the weariness etched into my expression, he swallowed his words.

In the end, he left the hospital room with Paul, hesitation lingering unspoken in the air.

...

Not long after they left, the nurse called to ask whether I wanted to proceed with disposing of the unborn child.

They knew my condition was fragile, afraid of upsetting me further, so they had tried calling my partner first-but the call went unanswered.

They only contacted me as a last resort, asking me to come sign the paperwork.

After explaining the situation, they asked when I'd be available.

Truth be told, my health wasn't in any condition for travel. But this was the first-and last-time I'd ever see the child fate had denied me.

If I was late, it would break my heart...

So I told them I'd go right away.

When I arrived, I signed the documents. After a long wait, they handed me a small box.

Cradling it in my hands, I took a cab alone to the cemetery, bought a tiny plot, and laid my child to rest.

Once everything was settled, I should have left. But I couldn't bring myself to go.

So I sat there beside the grave, keeping it company.

I thought my heart had gone numb-yet waves of dull, aching pain still throbbed through my chest.

Don't worry, my love...

Mom won't let your existence vanish from this world without meaning.

...

When I returned to the hospital room, the first thing I saw was Peter standing by my bed.

Hearing my footsteps, he turned sharply and strode toward me, gripping my arms tightly.

"Where have you been?"

I'm exhausted.

The fall down the stairs that caused my miscarriage has taken a heavy toll on my body.

And today, after running around all day to handle the aftermath of the child's passing...

I'm utterly drained. I yank my hand free from his grip and slump back onto the hospital bed, my voice icy and dripping with disdain. "What do you want?"

Peter clearly isn't pleased. "Of course I want something, Mary. You just disappeared from the hospital without telling anyone, even though you're still recovering-"

"What if something had happened to you?"

"We would have been devastated."

Pathetic acting.

Fake and disgusting.

I brush him off impatiently. "Relax. I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."

"Sweetheart..." His tone softens as he senses my cold detachment. "Don't be like this."

I have no interest in continuing this conversation. Face stony, I lie back down, pull the covers over myself, and turn away to sleep.

Peter sighs. "I know you're still angry at Paul."

"But he's just a kid..."

"He didn't realize how serious the consequences would be."

He kept rambling on and on, seemingly making excuses for Paul...

But in reality, he was afraid I'd press charges.

I understood all too well-if I did pursue legal action...

Paul hadn't directly harmed me, and he could easily use the excuse that a child doesn't understand consequences to evade legal repercussions.

But what about Martha Janet?

She had deliberately spilled oil all over the floor-enough to make anyone slip and fall...

Then, with malicious intent, she manipulated the child into pushing me...

To put it bluntly, it was attempted murder.

If I pressed charges...

Martha Janet would likely face serious legal consequences.

So here was Peter, showing up in the dead of night to plead with me. Who was he really here for?

I scoffed, cutting him off sharply before he could continue his endless excuses. "Just say what you came to say."

Peter fell silent for a long moment before finally speaking. "Martha Janet's ex-husband... ever since his business collapsed, he's become unhinged. He used to beat her."

"Until now, he's been overseas."

"But today... he suddenly came back."

"Oh? So you're planning to chase after Martha Janet and beat her up in the future?"

"That would certainly avenge my unborn child!"

What a saint you are...

I sat up and fixed my gaze on Peter.

Peter met my eyes with an uneasy expression. "Her ex-husband despises her. Now that he's back, he's definitely out for revenge."

"To ensure her safety, I've brought her to stay with us."