When I was two months pregnant, my husband ignored my wishes and insisted on bringing his white moonlight home.
“Hanhan broke her leg. If she doesn’t get proper treatment, she’ll be paralyzed for good. I have to take care of her.”
That was when I realized I had always been a replacement.
I quietly terminated the pregnancy and called home.
“Brother, I’m getting a divorce. I’m coming home to take over the company.”
