Chapter 3

All the messages were sent by Rowan's mother, Scarlet Jennings. "Natalie, there are less than two months left on the seven-year agreement. When exactly are you divorcing my son? "I've already said so much to you, and you didn't listen to a single word. Are you planning to cling to the Payne family and stay as Rowan's wife forever? "You actually dared to ignore my calls and messages. Natalie, where the hell did you disappear to? "You live off my son, stay in his house, and now you can't even afford phone credit? Your phone's been cut off for hours. Are you two divorcing or not?" Just as Natalie was about to reply, her phone rang. It was Scarlet calling. She glanced at Lucian, who was sitting by the hospital bed, then walked outside to answer. "Natalie, I thought you were dead. Your phone has been unreachable this whole time," Scarlet snapped. "When are you divorcing my son?" Natalie hadn't even spoken yet, yet Scarlet's vicious voice had already poured through the phone. "Was my phone turned off, or was it deliberately suspended? You know very well," Natalie replied coldly. She had added 200 dollars worth of credit just a week ago, so there was no way her service should have been cut off so quickly. Scarlet was the only one who liked pulling strings behind the scenes. "So?" Scarlet sneered. "When are you divorcing? I'll have my lawyer prepare the divorce agreement for you." "There's no need to rush me," Natalie replied calmly. "I can divorce anytime." "Fine, then go to the courthouse on Monday," Scarlet said. "You will leave with nothing. Oh, and take that useless girl, Sarah, with you." Natalie clenched her phone tightly. She could endure insults aimed at her, but dragging her daughter into it crossed her line. After ending the call, she was about to return to the hospital room when she turned and saw three people walking out of the VIP room. "Natalie, what are you doing here?" Rowan asked, frowning, his tone clearly showing displeasure. In the hallway, Rowan held Roger's left hand, while Imogen, now changed into casual clothes, held Roger's right hand. They truly looked like a perfect family of three. "Natalie, are you sick?" Imogen asked with a gentle smile. "Were you the one who took Roger out of the villa yesterday?" Natalie demanded, staring straight at Imogen. "Yes," Imogen replied casually. "Rowan and I signed a major contract yesterday, so I picked Roger up to celebrate with us." "You took Roger and left Sarah locked outside on the balcony? Did you know she wasn't even wearing a coat and almost froze to death?" The thought of Sarah crying alone on the balcony for so long made Natalie's heart ache unbearably. Imogen pouted. "Natalie, how can you blame me? I didn't even see Sarah at all yesterday. I thought you took her out to play and left Roger home alone." She then turned to Rowan and said sweetly, "Rowan, you knew I was going to pick Roger up, didn't you?" "Mommy, don't blame Ms. Chapman. I was playing hide-and-seek with Sarah. Who knew she'd hid on the balcony?" Roger shouted, raising his voice to defend Imogen. Natalie stared at Roger and pressed her lips into a thin line. He was her own flesh and blood, the child she had carried for ten months and nearly died giving birth to, yet she couldn't understand why he sided with Imogen. "What happened to Sarah?" Rowan finally asked. "She had a high fever last night and went into seizures," Natalie replied. "She nearly had an accident. I called you, but you didn't answer." "When did you call me?" Rowan frowned, remembering that he had checked his call history late last night. Natalie clenched the fabric of her dress at her side, her lips trembling uncontrollably. The fact that Roger hadn't told Rowan about her calls crushed her completely. "Natalie, Sarah getting sick is because you failed to take good care of her, yet you are blaming Rowan?" Imogen sneered, dropping all pretense. "Do you know how busy Rowan is every day? You stay at home doing nothing but taking care of the kids, and you still let your daughter get seriously ill." "I—" Natalie tried to explain. "No, that's not right," Imogen cut her off sharply. She continued, "You even have Pamela at home to take care of things for you. If I were you, I'd just focus on keeping the kids happy. You get to enjoy being Mrs. Payne, the wife everyone envies, and yet here you are, still complaining about your husband, who's working himself to exhaustion at the company." Natalie clenched the fabric of her dress even tighter. To outsiders, she was indeed the high and mighty Mrs. Payne, but no one knew how she had truly lived during those seven years in the Payne family. Rowan was a germophobe, obsessed with cleanliness. Everything in the house had to be disinfected daily. Not even a single strand of hair was allowed on the floor, or he would get angry the moment he saw it. She also had to prepare Rowan's breakfast and dinner strictly according to his preferences. The process was complicated and exhausting. Just handling these trivial chores consumed most of her day, and her silent sacrifices went completely unnoticed. "Is that how you see it, too?" Natalie asked, her eyes fixed on Rowan. "Men take care of business outside, women take care of the home," he replied firmly. "I already made that clear when you were pregnant, and if you can't even take care of a child properly, what else do you expect me to say?" Rowan had been exhausted lately from preparing for the company's winter fashion launch. To him, only Imogen could understand the pressure he faced at work. Natalie, a housewife, would never understand.