Lock Me Up in the Name of Love

I returned to the villa and packed up everything related to Zane. Precious jewelry, luxury goods, stuffed animals, and photos of us as a couple—I burned them all. But when I saw a glass bottle, I paused.

Inside was a letter Zane had written when he was 17. It was his wish for the future.

I had read it many times before. But today, as I held the thin piece of paper in my hands, I still couldn't help unfurling and reading it one last time.

The paper had yellowed, but the handwriting was still clear. 17-year-old Zane had written with free-flowing and confident strokes.

"To Zane, ten years from now.

"Zane, by now, you must have married Raina, right? I'm so jealous of you. You'd better treat my wife right, old man! Remember to cook her something different every day. Raina doesn't like to eat breakfast.

"When you give her gifts, make them by hand. What she values most is your sincerity. Keep her warm—she hates the cold. And another thing—you're not allowed to pressure her into having kids. Raina can't handle being in pain.

"I've already promised her we wouldn't have children in the future. Just having her is enough for me…"

At the very end of the letter, I noticed a line I had never paid attention to before. 17-year-old Zane had written it for me.

"Raina, if 27-year-old me doesn't treat you right, leave me. Never forgive me."

A fat tear rolled down my cheek and dripped heavily onto that line. With a bitter smile and a nod, I whispered, "Okay."

Then, I threw the letter into the fire. Tiny sparks burst out as the flames rose higher and higher.

Night had fallen by the time Zane returned with Moira. She was glowing with enthusiasm as she piled large bags of luxury brand items in front of me, saying they were gifts for me.

Seeing this, Zane looked at Moira approvingly. But when he noticed my indifferent response, he joined in and tried to please me.

"Look, Raina. Moira's actually quite considerate. She picked all these out just for you. If you don't like them, just tell me what you want, and I'll get them for you. Okay?"

Moira gently interjected before Zane could finish. "It's okay, Mr. Wade. Besides these, I also prepared another gift for Mrs. Wade. She's sure to love it!"

As she spoke, she handed me an envelope containing a document. I was stunned. Without needing to guess, I already knew it contained the divorce agreement.

I reached out to take it from Moira, but it didn't budge from her hand.

Moira didn't let go. In front of Zane, she looked at me and said in a deliberate tone, "You haven't forgotten what you promised me, right?"

"What promise?" Zane asked.

He looked puzzled as he turned to me and searched my face.

My heart clenched nervously under his sharp gaze. I quickly nodded and grabbed the agreement. "No, I'll keep my word."

Zane's gaze grew even more suspicious. He looked as though he was going to step forward to look at the agreement.

Perhaps sensing this, Moira smiled smugly. I watched as she turned to Zane and said, "Mr. Wade, Mrs. Wade promised to take care of my child after I leave. So, I prepared this little gift for her. You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind? Of course not," Zane replied.

His eyes had lit up upon hearing this. Smiling, he planted a kiss on my lips. Then, he said, "This is great, Raina! You've finally come around. I knew you've always been sensible."

Zane was so happy that he lifted me and spun me around in place several times. This caused a flicker of jealousy to flash through Moira's eyes as she stood to the side.

Perhaps her jealous gaze was too obvious. Zane put me down. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he said, "Raina, Moira is craving pheasant stew. Yours is the best. Could you make some for her?"

The joy I felt from having the signed divorce agreement in hand instantly vanished. It was drowned by the absurdity and biting irony of the situation.

So, what was I to Zane in the end? His lover, his wife—or just Moira's caretaker while she was pregnant?

But then, I ultimately thought of how I'd soon be free and didn't want anything to go wrong. Despite being physically and mentally exhausted, I nodded.

"Fine, I'll make it for her," I said.

As soon as I returned to the bedroom, I opened the envelope. When I saw Zane's signature on the divorce papers, I suddenly smiled.

After signing the agreement and safely stashing it away, I went downstairs to the kitchen. Once I had prepared the stew as promised, I instructed a maid to bring it to Moira.

But not long after, I was startled by Moira's sudden, piercing scream. Footsteps pounded down the corridor, followed by Zane's furious shouting. I hurriedly threw on a robe and opened the door.

Then, I heard Moira shout, "Ah! My stomach hurts! The stew… It was the stew!"

At those words, I met Zane's cold, icy stare. Then, I watched as he scooped Moira into his arms with a furious expression and dashed downstairs.

There had been a large patch of bright red blood on Moira's nightgown. By the time I realized it was a sign of miscarriage, I could only stand there, utterly stunned.