Today marked both my twins' sixth birthday and my seventh wedding anniversary.

Outside, the rain came down in sheets, pelting the villa windows without mercy.

I carefully placed the last piece of chocolate decoration on the center of the cake.

"Mommy, is it done?"

Chloe looked up at me, her big round eyes locked onto the cake in my hands, full of expectation.

I picked up the two boxes next to me, each wrapped neatly with ribbons.

"Yep, all done, sweetie. Look, here’s Optimus Prime for Noah and Elsa for you. Do you like them?"

Her eyes lit up in an instant. She gently touched the Elsa doll box with her little hands and nodded enthusiastically.

"Love it! And... and Noah will too!"

That tiny glimmer of hope in her voice stung, like a needle straight to my heart.

I grabbed the cake box, heavy in my arms, opened the umbrella with the other hand, and walked out of the villa with Chloe.

The downpour hadn’t let up. Cold wind slapped me in the face, making me shiver hard.

Almost instinctively, I turned a little sideways, using most of my shoulder to shield the cake and Chloe from the rain.

Even with the umbrella, freezing rain soaked through my thin clothes instantly, crawling down my back like icy claws.

Chloe tried to raise her little hands to block the rain over my head, panicked. "Mommy, you’re all wet! Maybe we should call Daddy to come get us?"

"It’s okay, baby. Daddy and Noah are already at the Empire Club for the party. We’ll just take a cab there."

We waited in the rain, Chloe warm in my arms, but taxis flew past us, not one slowing down.

Time was ticking, and the party was about to start. Left with no choice, I held Chloe tighter and headed toward the Empire Club on foot through the pouring rain.

Thirty minutes later, soaked to the bone, we finally arrived.

The warm air and laughter spilling from Empire Club felt like another world compared to the storm outside.

Chloe was half-drenched, shivering in my arms, and I was dripping wet with our gifts tucked awkwardly under one arm.

We looked completely out of place, like something sad and broken that had wandered into somewhere it didn’t belong.

A security guard in a spotless uniform had already noticed us. His gaze swept over my wet, clearly cheap outfit like a scanner.

Then his eyes landed on the cake box I was clutching, and his brows furrowed.

“Ma’am, this is a members-only venue. Do you have a reservation?”

My lips were numb from the cold; even my voice shook. “I… I’m Liam Carter’s wife. I’m here for my son Noah Carter’s birthday. The party’s in the Cloud Top.”

His eyes scanned me again, clearly struggling to believe that I could be connected to Liam Carter.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Carter,” he said, all professional awkwardness, “but we haven’t received any confirmation for you. Without a reservation or internal verification, I can’t let you through. And…”

His gaze dropped to the water seeping from the hem of my clothes. “Our club does have a certain dress code. I’m afraid… you don’t meet it.”

“Mommy…” Chloe’s voice was trembling. She buried her little face into my neck, her body shaking harder from cold and fear.

I took a deep breath, set down the cake box carefully, and reached with stiff fingers into my soaked pocket for my phone.There were raindrops on the screen, and the fingerprint kept failing to unlock.

Each failed attempt felt like a slap, mocking how pathetic I looked.

Finally, it worked.

My fingers were trembling as I dialed Liam Carter’s number.

Every second dragged like an eternity.

Right next to me, Chloe sniffled softly, and I could feel the security guard's stare stabbing into my back.

Just when I was about to give up, the call connected.

"Yeah?" His voice came through, annoyed and impatient.

I could hear the noise in the background—music and people laughing.

His tone squeezed my heart tight. My throat felt like sandpaper. “Liam… it’s me, Elena. Chloe and I are at the club entrance. Security says we can’t come in…”

I didn’t even finish before he cut me off, “Got it. Just wait there.”

I held onto the phone, listening to the beep as he hung up.

Nothing. Not even a “Where are you soaked like that?” or “Why are you here now?"

Just silence. The phone felt like ice in my hand.

Then the guard’s walkie-talkie buzzed. He turned to the side and finally stepped aside.

“Mrs. Carter, this way. The Cloud Top suite is on the top floor.”

The Cloud Top suite was massive, ridiculously fancy.

A huge crystal chandelier lit up the room, glinting over the long table lined with shiny silverware and a ridiculous spread of food.

People were chatting, laughing, having a great time.

But the second I walked in holding Chloe’s hand, all heads turned.

Surprised stares, judgmental glances, and downright rude looks—every one of them felt like tiny needles stabbing through me.

I didn’t even know where to put my hands and feet. I felt like an unwanted guest crashing someone else's party.

“Well, well, look who showed up,” a woman in a sparkly camisole dress said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Didn’t Noah say you were sick or something, staying home?”

My son, Noah, was sitting in the dead center of the suite, right in front of a massive cake.

He was wearing a little tux like some kind of miniature prince.

But what came out of his mouth made me feel like a total joke.

“Why are you even here? This party is for me. You’re just some nobody who only knows how to cook! You’re so annoying!”

Next to him, Sophia Bennett laughed, like she owned the place. She looked way too comfortable.

“Noah, be honest now—do you like your mommy more, or do you like me better?”

Noah snuggled into her like it was the most natural thing in the world, shooting me a disgusted look.

“I don’t like mom. My birthday wish was that Aunt Sophia could be my new mom!”

It felt like something exploded in my head. The room spun for a second.

Sophia’s eyes lit up with smug satisfaction, her voice loud and proud:

“Did you hear that, Liam? Even the kid gets it! Noah’s got great taste, huh?"

The guys around her—probably her little fan club—cracked up like it was all one big joke.

My arms went weak. I could barely keep a grip on the cake box.

I thought I had grown stronger over the years.

But in that moment, it felt just like five years ago.

That same crushing helplessness all over again.That day, the pain felt just as sharp, and the cold just as biting.

I lay on the icy operating table, blood pooling beneath me, fingers trembling as I made one last call to Liam Carter.

But when it connected, it wasn’t his voice I heard.

“Hey, Elena? Looking for Liam? Oh wow, bad timing—he’s watching fireworks with me at Disney! Gosh, they’re so pretty! You just focus on giving birth, alright? Don’t worry about him!”

Right after her words, another boom of fireworks echoed through the phone.

It wasn’t just noise—it felt like my last shred of hope for this marriage, for love, was blown to pieces right in my ear.

So this was how it was—me fighting for my life, torn apart inside, meant less to Liam than some damn fireworks.

And now, even the son I almost died to bring into this world was no different.

I got up at three in the morning to bake that cake, trudged through pouring rain just to show up for his birthday.

And what did he do? Called me a hillbilly. Even made a birthday wish asking for Sophia Bennett to be his mom instead.

With a husband like this, with a son like that, really, what was left for me to hold on to?

Everyone’s eyes were on me. I felt like some clown under a spotlight, moments away from the final bow.

“Mama…” Chloe’s voice, a quiet sob behind me, yanked me out of that storm in my head.

I looked down—her little face was tense with worry, eyes full of fear.

She had Liam’s eyes, no doubt about it. But at that moment, they were full of nothing but love and pain—for me.

“Mama, don’t cry! I’ll tell off big brother! He shouldn’t be so stuck to that auntie! He’s so mean!”

Her tiny body trembled as she spoke, like a little animal cornered but still trying with all its might to protect its mom.

Sophia stayed quiet, but the triumphant glint in her beautiful eyes said it all.

Liam glanced her way too—something flickered in his gaze. Maybe annoyance? Maybe embarrassment about how I showed up? But not once did he actually look like he cared.

I set the heavy cake box on the edge of the table, ignoring all the eyes glued to me, and slowly untied the ribbon.

And there it was—a stunning cake, practically a piece of art.

Snowy white frosting like fresh snowfall, detailed chocolate and fondant figures of two adorable cartoon kids.

One wore a tiny suit, arms crossed coolly—that was Noah.

The other had on a pink dress, pigtails bouncing, smiling sweetly—that was Chloe.

Every detail, every little decoration, was a piece of my love.

Noah barely glanced at it before he wrinkled his nose, “This cake looks gross. I’m not eating it.”

I just stared at that face that looked so much like Liam’s, so full of disgust.

At how he snuggled into Sophia’s arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then I turned to the cake. The two cartoon figures, smiling side by side.

I picked up the knife, aimed right between them—and with steady hands, drove the blade down the middle.

The clean white frosting split open, revealing golden sponge inside.

One figure landed on the left slice, the other on the right—no longer together.

There was no anger, no tears. Just a cold, quiet calm.

I turned to Noah and said, “Noah, your birthday wish came true.”

“Starting today, I’m not your mom anymore.”