Chapter 1

After three years of marriage, my wife finally got pregnant. I was thrilled and prepared a romantic candlelit dinner to celebrate.

That night, I got strangely wasted and forced myself on her, causing her to lose our hard-earned baby.

After that tragedy, my wife could never conceive again.

Later on, she wanted to adopt a little girl, and I agreed without hesitation.

Ever since that fateful night, she never let me touch her again.

I thought she was simply traumatized by the loss. But on our adopted daughter's eighteenth birthday, I walked in on her passionately kissing another man.

My daughter clung to his arm, happily calling him Dad.

At that moment, my entire world collapsed.

When I rushed over to confront them, I ended up murdered by that very family of three.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the exact day she told me she was pregnant.

...

1

"Garrett, you are going to be a dad..."

Tara stared at me with reddened eyes.

She was naturally gorgeous, and that single tear threatening to fall made her look utterly fragile and heartbreaking.

If I hadn't experienced the excruciating agony of my past death, I would have truly believed she was overjoyed.

In my previous life, this was the exact day she broke the news.

I had acted like a total fool, bursting with pure excitement. After all, we had spent three whole years trying for a baby with zero success.

We had undergone every medical checkup imaginable, and both of us were completely healthy.

Just as I was ready to give up hope, she told me she was expecting. It felt like rain after a devastating drought, and I wanted the entire world to know I was becoming a father.

That evening, I poured my heart into preparing a romantic dinner, and Tara suggested we open a bottle of vintage wine.

Since she was pregnant, I was the only one drinking.

Despite having a high alcohol tolerance, I got bizarrely drunk. In a complete haze, I lost control and forced myself onto her.

I still remembered how she sobbed uncontrollably, clutching her stomach while screaming at me. "Did you really have to do it tonight? Can't you control your animal urges for once? Do you have any idea how much agony I went through just to carry your family's bloodline?"

I had always cherished her and never pressured her into intimacy, yet that night, I simply couldn't control my own body.

In the end, the baby was gone.

The next morning at the hospital, looking at her swollen, tear-stained face, I dropped straight to my knees.

I had sobered up, but I was consumed by self-hatred. I couldn't comprehend how I could have been such a shameless monster.

I hated myself for forcing her, and I hated myself for destroying our unborn child.

My frail wife wept softly and offered her forgiveness.

"Garrett, our baby is gone."

She cried with heartbreaking sorrow, while I fell into a pit of despair. The doctor informed us that the trauma had caused severe internal damage, leaving her permanently infertile.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to beat myself to death.

From then on, I treated her like a queen, giving in to her every whim and demand.

A year later, she brought up the idea of adopting a child, and I supported her with both hands.

After bringing baby Sierra home, our house finally felt alive again.

Tara stopped brooding and seemed to glow with renewed vitality; she even earned a major promotion at work.

Just like that, our family spent eighteen seemingly picture-perfect years together.

If I hadn't accidentally stumbled upon the dirty truth that day, I would have spent my entire life financially supporting another man's wife and child.