Chapter 2

Joshua returned home at eleven that night. Over the years, no matter his obligations, he always came back before midnight, never staying out overnight.

Who could have imagined such a model man had another family?

Joshua opened the bedroom door and saw Kathleen's red, tear-streaked eyes. He froze, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Sorry, sweetheart, I'm late. Are you overthinking again? I brought you some seafood chowder. Have some before bed."

He gently helped Kathleen sit up. Joshua's thoughtfulness showed in small gestures, like bringing home her favorite foods when he returned late.

She once believed meeting and marrying him was a gift from fate.

That night, she learned the truth. The food Joshua brought home, like the seafood chowder, was leftovers from Ella and her daughter.

Kathleen had forced herself to watch the surveillance footage of their family. The little girl took one sip of the chowder and spat it back into the bowl.

"Daddy, why does this fancy restaurant's chowder taste so bad?" the girl asked.

Joshua glanced at her, chuckling as he served her something else. "Tara, if you don't like it, don't drink it. I'll take it with me."

"But Daddy, I spat in it," the girl said.

Joshua shrugged, unbothered. "No problem. I'll take it for the dogs. They won't mind."

Kathleen watched Joshua hold a spoon, waiting expectantly for her to open her mouth. Her stomach churned violently.

How many times had she eaten such leftovers, tainted with someone else's spit? She was the dog in Joshua's eyes.

Kathleen gagged and rushed to the bathroom. She vomited until the world spun, then collapsed on the floor, tears streaming down her face.

She murmured inwardly, "Why, Joshua? If you don't love me, why pretend to care so deeply?"

"Are you okay, sweetheart? I'm sorry, I didn't know you weren't in the mood for chowder. It's my fault. Open the door, let me see you, please?" Joshua's voice carried urgency from outside.

Kathleen pressed her hands to her face, stifling her sobs. Why did he treat her this way?

That night, Kathleen spiked a fever. Joshua rushed her to the hospital.

She didn't know how long she slept. The sound of Joshua talking with Brennen Fuller, her doctor and his cousin, stirred her awake. She kept her eyes closed.

"Joshua, Kathleen's condition is critical. She might not last a month. Are you still giving that liver to someone else?" Brennen asked.

After a few seconds of silence, Joshua spoke. "I'm sticking with my decision. You didn't see Ella crying in front of me. I can't bear it. For Kathleen, I'll find another liver in time."

"But how will you tell her?" Brennen pressed.

Joshua's voice turned cold. "I'll say the donor's family backed out. She won't suspect anything."

Brennen hesitated. "But Kathleen is your lawful wife. The Walton family gave you your status. Can you really be so heartless?"

Joshua gave a low, bitter laugh. "Yes, I owe my success to the Waltons. But haven't I been good to Kathleen? How many men would do what I've done? Even when her illness left her unable to have children, did I ever complain? I've got nothing to feel guilty about."

Kathleen's hands clenched the bedsheet under the blanket. Her heart felt as if it had been carved out.

So, his fidelity during her illness justified his betrayal?

Whether he felt no guilt or was deluding himself, only he knew.

"Don't you care if she lives or dies?" Brennen asked.

Joshua didn't answer. His fingers brushed Kathleen's cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

His touch was gentle, yet every inch of skin he grazed burned with unbearable pain.