The Names on Her Grave

Everything Is a Lie

That was the first time I had blown up on her.

"No. I will never give up on this child, our child, no matter what you say. I don't care if you're going to leave me to raise the baby alone after you've given birth to him. I will never abandon him!"

Alas, Jessica insisted on going to the hospital for an abortion.

I cried and begged her not to, but I tumbled down the stairs during our argument. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed with one leg broken.

The doctor told me that Jessica had already undergone the abortion procedure. She hadn't even stayed through the required observation period before leaving. It seemed that she'd gotten an urgent phone call and prioritized that over her health.

As expected, the only thing she left me was a message saying she had an important overseas business meeting and needed to travel abroad for a few days.

Back then, I genuinely believed that she had some urgent matter so important that she had no choice but to leave despite her condition. I even gave her an out for abandoning me when I was at my lowest.

Only now did I finally understand that she had gone back to her hometown with Christian and the child to pay respects to her ancestors, to tell everyone that he was her rightful husband.

The child in the photograph probably wasn't even hers. Yet, she had easily chosen to give up our baby while placing that child into the family tree.

The moment I pieced everything together, my heart felt as though it were being carved apart, and tears slid silently down my face.

I dazedly made my way back to Tylen City. Instead of going home, I went straight to the immigration office, intending to transfer my identity registration back to Cinea and withdraw the savings I had accumulated through years of work.

However, the clerk looked up at me suspiciously when I entered my information.

"Mr. Thomson, this Tylen ID card you have is fake. Your registered identity has always been tied to a Cinea ID. Also, you've only been staying here on a tourist visa all these years. As for this bank card, the account holder isn't you, but a man named Christian.

"In other words, you'll need his authorization if you want to withdraw any money."

In that split second, my mind went completely blank.

On my very first day in Tylen, Jessica had personally handed me this ID card. She told me she had arranged long-term residency for me so I wouldn't have to worry about visas anymore.

I had never once doubted her.

As for the bank card, the finance department had given it to me as my payroll card during my second month at the music studio.

I had always lived frugally, wanting to save up some sense of security for myself. I thought I wouldn't be left with nothing and nowhere to go if Jessica decided to leave me one day.

Jessica knew better than anyone how much stability this job meant to me, so I didn't know why she would do this to me.

I nearly stumbled as I rushed out of the immigration office, flagging down a taxi straight to the music studio where I had worked for the past five years.

The studio owner was a local middle-aged man called Jason. He had always treated me politely enough.

When I burst into his office, he was organizing a file containing the studio's award-winning works over the years. He had never allowed me to look through them in the past, always saying that artists shouldn't be influenced by outside opinions.

This time, I threw my manners aside and snatched the file straight from his hands.

The moment I saw the name listed under the awards, my breathing stopped.

It was Christian's name.

Every single award-winning piece that I had created over the past five years had been credited to Christian.

At that moment, my legs gave out, and I nearly collapsed.

"Jason, why are my payroll card and competition entries registered under Christian's name? The copyrights to those songs, the honors from those awards… How did they all become Christian's? What exactly were all my years of hard work worth?"

When Jason heard me, he gave an awkward chuckle and deliberately avoided my gaze. "Mr. Thomson, this matter was handled according to Ms. Sullivan's instructions. She said it was for the convenience of management. Mr. Christian is her family, so registering everything under his identity would avoid a lot of trouble and save him the effort of personally creating anything himself."