After their wedding, their relationship was far from harmonious at the start. Julian Sterling rarely came home. Being intimate twice a month was a luxury, and whenever it happened, he always skipped the preamble and got straight to the point, let alone having any normal communication.
However, at the end of their first year of marriage, Julian had to travel to the branch office in Vesparia to lay the groundwork for gradually seizing control of the family business. The night before his departure for Vesparia, Julian got drunk at a business dinner and forgot to use protection for the first time. He was wildly unbridled that night. It was the first time she realized that when he was too drunk to recognize who she was, Julian was not as ascetically indifferent as he usually appeared.
Two months after Julian left, Sophie Winslow found out she was pregnant. At the time, she even naively wondered if her pregnancy could act as a catalyst to improve their relationship, since he had always believed himself to be sterile. Therefore, she decided to test the waters first.
She immediately flew out to Port Liberty. Filled with joy and anticipation, she rushed straight to his company and waited in the biting wind for two hours. Julian was very surprised by her arrival, but he did not introduce her to anyone. Instead, he simply had his assistant take her to his residence. Back then, consumed by her own enthusiasm, she completely failed to notice his coldness and deliberate attempt to distance himself from her in public.
When he came back that night and showered, he didn’t even bother to ask if she was tired from the long flight. He leaned over to kiss her earlobe, but deep in his eyes lay the detachment of a routine chore, as if her flying all the way there was just an eager plea for intimacy.
Feeling a wave of discomfort, Sophie pushed him away. Suppressing the flutter in her chest, she asked nervously, "If I were to have a child, would we..."
Her words seemed to ruin what little interest he had. Julian pulled away without a shred of hesitation. He rolled over, lay beside her, and closed his eyes, maintaining a cold, distant gap between them that spoke volumes of their divided hearts.
"If you think having a child will make our marriage unbreakable, I advise you not to overthink it." His tone remained calm and composed, yet it was exceptionally cruel and straightforward, underlaid with bone-chilling callousness.
She didn’t sleep a wink that night. She wanted to cry, but it felt like she had brought this upon herself. The next day, as if chasing away a nuisance, Julian booked her a flight and had someone arrange for her to return home, unwilling to let her stay a minute longer.
There was sadness, and there was disappointment. Because of the seven-year divorce agreement, she understood that their ultimate ending was already set in stone, which allowed her to make a swift decision.
Whether Julian genuinely didn’t care about having a child or firmly believed he was sterile, she wouldn’t breathe a single word of this to him. The baby in her womb was her own flesh and blood, her own lineage—it had nothing to do with him! She wasn’t going to let his attitude dictate her actions or force her to harm her own body and her child. Thinking back on it now, getting rid of the father but keeping the child was indeed the boldest, craziest, yet most correct decision she had ever made!
As for why little Lydia Hawthorne took the surname Hawthorne... Lydia wasn’t registered under her best friend Ivy Hawthorne’s name. This Hawthorne wasn’t Ivy’s Hawthorne, but rather the Hawthorne of Ivy’s cousin, the future head of the family. Sophie thought of the man who had been willing to lend her a hand and let the child be raised under his name. She shook her head and checked Lydia’s WhatsApp.
No one in the Sterling Family knew. Today, her daughter was her sole asset from the divorce. Even though Julian was an incompetent husband, she saw no reason to bicker with a living, breathing sperm donor.
***
After she confessed the divorce to Ivy Hawthorne, Ivy was stunned for a few seconds. After all, Ivy knew best just how much Sophie loved Julian—from their teenage years until now, spanning more than a decade. It should have been a pain akin to having her heart carved out and her bones scraped, yet Sophie’s current tone was incredibly calm. It was the habit and numbness born from being hurt time and time again.
Ivy even felt that Sophie’s refusal to tell Julian he had a daughter in kindergarten was exactly what he deserved! It was his karma! But she also understood the grievances Sophie had suffered, and immediately agreed, "Men are like used toilet paper! They’re absolutely useless and disgusting! Being scum is in their nature! Trash belongs in the trash can!"
Ending the call, Sophie continued packing her personal belongings without pausing for a moment. After seven years as a wealthy socialite wife, her entire life boiled down to just two suitcases. She looked down at the diamond ring on her ring finger. She gently rubbed it. Even though it had been worn long enough to become warm and smooth, it felt as though it was cutting her like a knife.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled it off without any lingering attachment and dropped it into the file envelope containing the divorce agreement. Taking advantage of the dead of night, she loaded the suitcases into her car. It was too late to leave, so she went back inside and fell asleep in her clothes.
The next day.
Sophie was awakened by the noise of things being moved and hauled downstairs. Having slept for only three hours, listening to this racket felt like someone was using a power drill to pry open her skull.
Enduring the discomfort, she washed up and then placed the envelope with the divorce agreement right in the center of her now-empty vanity table, ensuring that Julian would notice this long-awaited surprise the moment he walked in. Then, she headed out.
Ivy had already helped her find an apartment last night. Considering that little Lydia would be living with her in the future, Ivy had specifically prepared a three-bedroom place. Sophie planned to drop her luggage off there shortly.
As she reached the top of the stairs, she saw a twelve or thirteen-year-old boy standing in the living room, bossing the workers around. Spotting her, he strained his cracking adolescent voice to bark orders at her. "Hurry up and pack your stuff so you can clear out! Julian’s future wife will be moving in here soon. Don’t dirty her space!"
The boy was unreasonable and domineering. It was Julian’s younger brother, Stanley Sterling. He was spoiled rotten and bore not the slightest resemblance to Julian. He had never shown her the respect owed to Julian’s wife, yet his tone right now was full of defense for another woman.
Looking down at him from the stairs, Sophie’s tone was icy. "Who?"
"Stella Sutton, of course! She’s the only outstanding woman who is a match for Julian. You’ve monopolized Julian and our family for so many years, what else can you do besides play nanny?" Stanley stood with his hands on his hips, his childish face full of disdain.
Sophie glanced at the items being moved into the living room. A new vanity table, a new sofa, a new full-length mirror—the style matched Stella Sutton perfectly.
"Who authorized this?" Sophie asked, her expression turning glacial.
Stanley was momentarily startled by her frosty demeanor. Flustered and angry, he shot back, "Julian, of course! Who else could it be?
"He doesn’t want you anymore! He thinks you’re disgusting! You’re nothing but a used, filthy rag! If you know what’s good for you, hurry up and make room!"
Sophie pressed her lips into a tight line. It felt as if her chest had been viciously struck by a blunt weapon, leaving her mind completely blank for a few seconds.
She hadn’t expected Julian to be in such a desperate rush for her to make room for his beloved woman. It was only yesterday that she caught him doing those absurd things with a pregnant Stella Sutton, and today, they were already being so brazen about it. Was he planning to refurnish their marital home to welcome its new mistress?