Rising from Betrayal: A Wife's Redemption

My name is Shayla Stein, thirty years old.

Among peers, I have always been the envy of many, living in a detached house in the upscale district of Fora, with a young, handsome, and caring husband who loves me like a first love. He is renowned as a model husband, attentive and caring, who takes care of me like a princess. His name is Finnegan Mercer, who used to be a well-known senior stylist. Before that, I ran a medical equipment company, with a considerable annual income.

After marriage, I energetically gave birth to three lovely and beautiful babies. Balancing work and parenting responsibilities was challenging, but my husband tenderly resigned to help me manage the company. Under his guidance, the company flourished. I, on the other hand, embraced the life of a full-time housewife, enjoying life, raising children, and becoming the envy of others.

But I noticed my health deteriorating rapidly. I started losing hair, became increasingly lethargic, lost weight, had memory lapses, and felt mentally drained, even disoriented.

My husband said I was suffering from typical anxiety disorder, sought out renowned doctors, and prescribed multiple medications for me, which the housekeeper delivered to me on time.

Little did I know, this was the beginning of a near-death experience for me.

One day, while half asleep, I was startled by a sharp pain in my head. Accidentally, I knocked over the medication that our housekeeper Jessica Wallace had brought me. The gluttonous cat, taking advantage of my drowsiness, devoured the drugs before I could. When Jessica came to clean up, I didn't mention it to her to avoid the hassle of getting more medicine.

To be honest, I had been fed up with the medication long ago. It was ineffective, but out of consideration for my husband's efforts in getting them for me, I continued to drink them as instructed.

Since falling ill, the entire household chores were entrusted to Jessica, who tirelessly managed everything. Sometimes I felt guilty that she had to bear such a burden.

After exchanging a few words with me, she left to continue her tasks.

Glancing at the pillow, I noticed another layer of fallen black hair. It was distressing to see, so I sighed, collected the fallen hair, rolled it into a bundle, and stuffed it into the pocket of my robe.

Suddenly, a muffled sound from behind startled me!

I clutched my chest for a while before cautiously turning to the other side of the bed, only to find Lucky, who had been leisurely observing outside, lying motionless on the ground, silent and still.

That inexplicably gave me an ominous premonition.

"Lucky!" I called out, but it didn't move.

A chill ran down my spine, and my hair stood on end.

This was an unprecedented situation for it. They say that cats have nine lives and excellent balance, so how could it have fallen from the window sill, let alone in this condition?

Is it... dead?

With my heart in my throat, I hesitantly approached and realized that it was breathing heavily, not dead, but it seemed like it was sleeping!

But this sleeping posture...

Suddenly, a dreadful thought flashed through my mind!

Instinctively, I jumped out of bed, disregarding many things, and picked up Lucky. It was limp, devoid of any response, defenseless.

I couldn't help but think of myself. Was I also in a similar state of slumber every day?

Could it be...

The idea flashed through my mind, and I shuddered as if falling into an ice cave, afraid to think further!

Before I could ponder over it, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps outside the door. It must be Finnegan coming back...

Instinctively, I hugged Lucky, quickly got into bed, pulled the blanket over to cover Lucky's strange state, adjusted my breathing to pretend to be asleep.

At the same time, the door handle made a clicking sound, my heart pounding like a drum, and I could even feel a gaze sweeping over my back, making me feel a lingering pain, my hands uncontrollably trembling under the blanket.

But the anticipated footsteps did not come in, instead, they retreated outside. Just as the door was about to close, I heard Finnegan ask, "Did you take the medicine?..."

The rest of the words were blocked outside the door, and I didn't know what he said.

The next moment, I suddenly opened my eyes, an unprecedented fear surged, filling my soul. I didn't even know where I was at this moment, whether I was in a dream, having a nightmare?

The scene in front of me couldn't help but make me think of that bowl of medicine.

I had raised Lucky for many years, and it never had this kind of state before. The only thing different was that it had just drunk the bowl of medicine meant for me.

This thought made me extremely frightened.

Could it be that someone was really trying to harm me?