Punished by His Ex-Wife

"Divorce? Absolutely not!"

Grandmother Anderson sat on her leather couch in the living room, scolding her grandson James over the phone, unaware that Emily stood nearby.

Her face flushed with anger. "You've been running around overseas with that woman for a year. Have you even thought about Emily? She's been alone this whole pregnancy. You need to come back for the birth!"

Emily stood frozen, her eight-month pregnant belly prominent, her face draining of color as she gripped her hands tightly. James had been away since she got pregnant. She thought it was for work, but he'd been with another woman - and now wanted a divorce.

"James," Eva's voice came faintly through the phone.

"Eva needs me here. I have to stay."

"You selfish boy! What about Emily and your baby?" Grandmother massaged her temples. "This behavior is disgraceful. The Anderson name stands for something."

James scoffed, "You're the disgraceful one, Grandmother. You knew I didn't love Emily, but you pushed us together anyway."

He'd planned the divorce from their wedding day. Emily was never his choice.

Emily swayed slightly, pale as a sheet. Through two years of marriage, James had been ice-cold, keeping his distance. She'd foolishly thought she'd finally won his heart that one night. She didn't know he'd been drugged.

The housekeeper Mia came from the kitchen and screamed, "Blood! Mrs. Anderson is bleeding!"

Emily collapsed. As consciousness faded, she felt strangely peaceful.

The Anderson household erupted in panic. At the hospital, Grandmother Anderson waited anxiously outside surgery. After three hours, the doctor emerged with grim news: "She lost too much blood and her will to fight was low. We did what we could. Only one of the triplets survived."

Grandmother Anderson nearly fainted, caught by Mia whose eyes filled with tears.

In America, James sank into his chair at the news.

"I'm so sorry," Eva said from her hospital bed, concern on her face. When James looked away, satisfaction flickered in her eyes.

Eva lowered her head guiltily. "It's my fault. If I hadn't gotten hit by that car, you could've been there for her pregnancy."

James spoke evenly, hiding his emotions. "Rest here. Joseph will stay with you."

Emily's critical condition forced him to return home, but Eva's injuries made him hesitate to leave right away.

Eva nodded sweetly. "Yes, go take care of things."

The next day, James returned home to find an urn containing the ashes of a mother and two babies.

Grandmother Anderson, too heartbroken to scold him now, had Mia give him a medical report. "Emily had prenatal depression. She hid it from everyone to spare us worry."

"James, you were right. I killed Emily with my meddling," Grandmother Anderson wept.

Watching his grandmother blame herself, James felt a weight in his chest. He gripped the medical report so hard his knuckles turned white. Though he hadn't loved Emily, he never wanted her dead.

Five years later, in a high-rise office building in New York, a confident, poised woman commanded attention at the podium. Her perfect English captured the audience as she presented her design concept.

Her delicate features seemed sculpted, with bright eyes that sparkled like stars.

"That concludes my Starry Sea collection. I welcome your thoughts."

Applause filled the room.

Emily - now Aria - smiled confidently. After the clapping died down, a middle-aged man with blonde hair stood up.

"Aria, exceptional work. You'll be the star of Fashion Week."

"Thank you, but the credit goes to my whole team," she replied graciously.

"You're all incredible. Our company's lucky to have designers like you. By the way, our new British CEO joins tomorrow. You should come to the welcome party."

Aria nodded in agreement.

Five years ago, she'd come to America, studied for two years, then landed a job at this top-five fashion company. Through hard work, she rose from junior designer to department head, leading her own team. Her salary had grown impressively too.