Chapter 5

The day I committed "suicide" happened to be my birthday.

Noah bought every rose in the city, and the buildings around us had huge screens playing Happy Birthday on a loop.

People on the internet snapped photos and sighed.

Netizen 1: [Another day to cry over the beautiful love story of the heirs.]

Netizen 2: [Word is, this is the president of Sinclair Group celebrating his wife's birthday.]

Netizen 3: [First wish for the afterlife. To be Mrs. Sinclair's firstborn.]

Because I had been suffering from the pregnancy, Noah decided to take me to the church to pray.

He bought over 20 prayer slips in one go.

The vendor joked, "Young man, don't be too greedy."

Noah smiled lightly.

"I don't want anything for myself. This is for my wife and our unborn child."

The vendor gave him a thumbs up.

"Good man!"

I silently wrote something on a slip of paper.

Noah leaned over to peek, so I quickly hid it.

"Alright, alright, I won't look," he said, gently ruffling my hair, thinking I was just shy.

After placing the papers down, we were about to leave the mountain.

Noah's phone dinged, and he glanced at it quickly before turning it off.

What he didn't know was that Sophia had sent me the same picture.

A photo of her in lace, with a maid's uniform.

[Master, I accidentally broke your favorite vase. Want to punish me?]

I glanced at Noah, who smiled a playful smile, clearly already having made up his mind.

The next moment, his expression shifted to urgency.

"Sweetheart, there's an emergency at the company that I need to handle.

"Can I have dinner with you tonight instead?"

I coldly replied, "The company's business is more important."

What Noah didn't know was that I would never wait for him to have dinner with me again because I was going to die.

Before leaving the church, I went to look at the more than 20 prayer papers Noah had left behind.

[May Sophia be blessed with peace and joy.]

[May Sophia encounter fewer misfortunes and only meet good people.]

Out of all Noah's prayer papers, every single one was about Sophia. There were only a few scattered ones for me and the child.

My heart felt like it was being slowly ground by a dull knife, the pain so intense I almost couldn't stand.

A gentle breeze passed by, and the words on my paper flickered in and out of view.

[May I never see Noah again in this life, even in death.]