After the vacation with his mistress, the husband gave his sterile wife a pregnant doll.

Walking into the toy store, he scanned the rows of dolls until his eyes landed on one in particular. The most modern and beautiful pregnant doll, with a perfectly rounded belly. Her face was stunning, her eyes sparkling, her features flawless. And those lips—full, well-defined, and seductively voluptuous.

After purchasing the doll, he drove home, eagerly anticipating the moment he would hand his wife this “gift.” He had the whole plan laid out!

To subtly suggest that even dolls could get pregnant now—while she remained barren, forever unwanted. As he neared home, he almost reveled in his own cruelty. This would be the most refined and ingenious gift yet.

He could already picture himself stepping into the apartment, holding the doll behind his back. Smiling, he would pull it out in front of Emily, without saying a word, and place it right on the table.

At that moment, he would enjoy the role of the cruel puppeteer, keeping his wife suspended on a fragile thread of despair. For him, this was the pinnacle of pleasure.

However, upon returning from the resort and stepping into the apartment, he was met with an entirely unexpected reception. Emily stood in the doorway, blocking his way in. A mocking smile was frozen on her lips, and in her eyes, there was nothing but utter contempt.

— “Well, darling, have you come to say goodbye?” she asked provocatively, raising an eyebrow.

— “I came home. Aren’t you happy to see your loving husband?”

— “Oh, of course I am—here, take MY GIFT!”

Looking at her, Ethan turned green with shock in an instant. Right in front of him, Emily held a stack of photographs in her hand. With a cold smile, she handed them to him one by one.

Every single picture showed Ethan, her husband, in intimate moments with Jessica, his mistress, during his “business trip” at the beach.

— “Surprise, my dear,” Emily said calmly, her voice sharp as a razor blade. “The detective I hired does excellent work, don’t you think?”

Ethan felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. The pregnant doll he was hiding behind his back suddenly seemed ridiculous and childish compared to the devastating blow he had just received.

— “You can keep that stupid doll for your new family,” Emily continued, glancing at the package he was trying to hide. “I think you already know—our divorce proceedings start tomorrow. My lawyer will be in touch.”

— “Emily, wait, I can explain…” Ethan started, but the words caught in his throat as he saw what she pulled out from behind the door next.

It was a suitcase. His suitcase.

— “I packed all your essentials,” she said with cold efficiency. “You can pick up the rest next week—while I’m away.”

— “You can’t just kick me out of my own house!” Ethan protested, his initial shock quickly turning into rage.

Emily let out a short, humorless laugh.

— “Your house? That’s funny. You see, while you were busy with Jessica, I had some interesting meetings with my lawyer. Turns out this apartment—being inherited from my parents—belongs solely to me. Just like the company you used as a front for your little affairs.”

A wave of panic rose in Ethan’s chest. The company. The company Emily had inherited and that he had been managing for years, thinking of it as his own.

— “You… you can’t do this,” he whispered, finally grasping the full scale of the disaster unfolding before him.

— “Oh, but I can. And one more thing…”

Emily pulled out one last “gift”—a blue envelope—and handed it to him. With trembling fingers, Ethan opened it. Inside was a medical report.

— “Have you ever wondered why we never had children?” Emily asked, her gaze locking onto his. “Dr. Peterson was very surprised when I showed him your medical results from five years ago—the ones you hid so carefully. Turns out, I wasn’t the problem. You were, Ethan. It was always you.”

Ethan felt his entire world collapse. He remembered the day he received those results, how he had hidden them from Emily, letting her believe she was the one who couldn’t conceive—using it as a weapon against her all these years.

— “And you know what’s even more ironic?” Emily continued. “Your dear Jessica is pregnant. Not with you, of course. My detective found out she’s still seeing her ex-husband. But I’m sure she’ll be delighted to learn about your little medical condition.”

Emily cast a glance at the pregnant doll, now partially visible from the package, and smiled sadly.

— “A pregnant doll? Even now, you can’t resist being cruel. That’s the difference between us, Ethan. I give you the truth—you give me nothing but another plastic lie.”

Without waiting for a reply, Emily pushed the suitcase toward him and started closing the door.

— “Your apartment from the agency has been vacated. You have a week to find something permanent,” she said as her final words.

The door shut with a final, definitive sound, leaving Ethan standing in the hallway, holding a suitcase, a medical report, and a pregnant doll that seemed to stare at him accusingly.

He looked at the doll, and in a fit of rage and despair, he tossed it into the nearest trash bin on his way out.

As he stepped into the harsh daylight, Ethan realized that his plan to hurt Emily had backfired—resulting in his own downfall. He had lost his wife, his home, his company, and, most importantly, the illusion of control he had thought he had over his life.

Inside the now-empty apartment, Emily sat on the couch, feeling a strange mix of pain and relief. Looking at the scattered photographs on the table, she wondered if she had been too harsh. Then she remembered all the years of manipulation, the subtle and not-so-subtle accusations, the way Ethan had made her feel broken and incomplete.

No. She hadn’t been too harsh. She had simply been fair. And for the first time in years, she felt like she could finally breathe.

Her phone rang, pulling her from her thoughts. It was Lisa, her best friend, who had supported her through it all.

— “Did you do it?” Lisa asked, anxiety clear in her voice.

— “Yeah,” Emily replied, surprised at how calm she sounded. “It’s over.”

— “And how do you feel?”

Emily thought for a moment before answering.

— “Like I’ve been reborn,” she finally said. “Like, after all these years, I’ve woken up from a nightmare—and I can finally start living.”

And as the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the apartment, Emily realized that, for the first time in years, she was actually looking forward to tomorrow. A day that belonged to her alone—without shadows, without lies, without Ethan.