Chapter 2

I had just stepped out of the shower when a burning hot male body embraced me from behind.

He kissed me from my ear all the way down to my neck, leaving dense kiss marks. But it seemed like that wasn't enough for him. He turned me around, wrapped one arm around my waist, pressed the other hand against the back of my head, and kissed me deeply.

His kissing technique was still so skilled. After a year of nightly intimacy, he knew all my sensitive spots like the back of his hand. I gradually went limp in his arms.

When I noticed his hand sliding down inappropriately, about to lift my skirt, I immediately started struggling.

The man's movements stopped. He bit my lip lightly, his tone somewhat reluctant.

"What's wrong? Don't want to tonight?"

I knew he was confused---after all, I had never refused him when it came to physical intimacy.

"The doctor said no intercourse during the first three months of pregnancy."

The man's breathing hitched, and the arm holding me trembled slightly.

"Aren't you happy to hear you're going to be a father?"

"No, I'm very happy. So happy. I never thought I could..."

He was incredibly excited, carefully carrying me back to bed and lying on his side to protect my belly.

Seeing my exhausted expression, the man turned off the light and stayed quiet.

I smiled slightly. I had always been highly fertile. If anything, I was surprised it took this long to get pregnant.

As for Ethan, he always used protection when we had sex. Even if he accidentally forgot, he would make sure I took the morning-after pill afterward.

The next morning, the man beside me had disappeared. I went downstairs and ran into Ethan.

His breathing was heavy. I could feel his gaze fixed intently on me.

"The marks on your neck..."

Was he jealous? I smiled.

"It's all because you were too rough last night, Ethan. My legs still hurt. You must have left those marks then. Why do you seem so confused?"

"...I'm just worried it might look bad if you go out like this. Remember to cover them up."

I answered noncommittally, not bothering to point out that as a blind person, how exactly was I supposed to cover them myself?

Ethan hastily ate a couple bites of breakfast, then left, claiming he had something to do.

I felt my way upstairs and turned on the listening device connected to his phone.

Ironically, this was something Ethan's grandfather had installed when I first arrived, hoping it would help us communicate and develop feelings for each other. Who knew it would now serve as evidence of his betrayal?