Epilogue

"What do you want to eat? We have plenty of food, baby. Do you want me to add more so you have more options?" Lazarus' calm voice revealed impatience and desperation to find out what was wrong with me.

"N-No..."

He seemed to finally lose patience with me, which is why he kissed me on the lips hastily, repeating it over and over. It was intense and warm despite my continuous sobbing and our lips, both swollen, pressed together.

He rested our foreheads together, catching his breath from the intense kissing even though I didn't kiss him back because I was preoccupied with crying.

"What do you want, hm? I'll buy it," he said, then bit my reddened and swollen lips firmly.

"I-I want... Yubari King Melon," my voice still trembled as I held my not-so-large baby bump.

"What's that?" he asked quickly, seeming very eager to know what I wanted to eat so he could buy it right away.

"I-It's a melon, Lazi..."

"How much?"

I hesitated to tell him the price, especially since he would have to buy it from an auction in Japan.

Hungrily, my sobs became more audible, louder than usual. I was afraid my babies in the other room might wake up and join me here. I was certain that if my baby Praise saw me like this, crying, she would definitely cry too.

I was crying because of the price of a fruit I wanted to eat, even though I often craved for potato chips, something sour. I couldn't get the thought of the Yubari King Melon out of my head.

"I... I don't know, Irithel just bought it from an auction in Japan and the highest price was ¥5 million..." I explained, unsure if he would buy me at least one.

"Is that all? What are you crying for, baby? Do you think I can't afford it?" There was a hint of force in his voice, but I didn't mind it because what I saw in his eyes was genuine concern. He used his two large thumbs to wipe the tears off my face. "I'm working hard for you and our kids. I can buy you anything, and all you have to do is ask."

I gave him a weak nod. "A-Are you going to Japan?"

"No," he answered, his voice back to being calm. "I'll have someone do the task."

"Who?"

"Carl," he replied, concluding our conversation. "Hm, do you want anything else?"

I just shook my head before I pulled him closer using his tie and undid the buttons of his white long-sleeved shirt.

"Lazi," I said while unbuttoning his shirt. "Have you thought of a name for the baby?"

"Yes," he answered seriously.

I was about to ask more, but I didn't get the chance as he kissed me on the lips again.

Lazarus had allowed me to work in his company, but since I became pregnant, he fired me because I wouldn't leave work if he didn't fire me. Honestly, I would never write a resignation letter.

The decision to fire me from work came unexpectedly and abruptly, and I practically wanted to ignore the fact that he's my husband.

I was fired by my husband, and I couldn't accept that. So, in his own company, I almost brought about the downfall of his business by signing some important papers that shouldn't have been signed. It wasn't that hard because I could imitate his signature. I was angry, very angry.

Fortunately, I managed to stop myself.

Men should stop belittling women by treating them like toys they can use when they're bored, or making them feel unimportant just because women are physically weaker and can't earn their own money, as was the old way of thinking when women were dependent on men.

I remembered watching a live video of Lazarus. He told me the truth that it was just for show, to make me believe and come back to him.

He said it wasn't live, because if it was, everyone would have seen it, including his father.

He collaborated with Saul in making the video, and it wasn't Lazarus' intention to take his own life. But because of the sadness and depression from my departure, it seemed like he actually did it. He did get injured, and Saul was there, but due to extreme exhaustion, he passed out, so Saul rushed him to the hospital.

He told Saul not to find a way to show me the video, and to keep it from our cousins or parents. But Saul didn't listen, perhaps because he was desperate to get Francesca.

Saul found a way and sent it to Ixze. Lazarus didn't know, not until Saul told him.

He said he even almost punched Saul when he found out what happened after I watched the video.

There was no actual suicide attempt.

Right from the beginning, we were both victims. He didn't rape me. He was my victim. I was Kiana's victim, and Kiana was Sammantha's victim.

"Momma, we have boxing training later," my seventeen-year-old son, who almost had the same calm voice as his father, said. "I'll be home before eight."

I was in his room to talk about Cayu. Lately, there seemed to be something different between them. Cayu was becoming very distant from Luzon.

"Zon baby, what if something bad happens to you because of boxing? I know you love that sport, baby, but I'm really worried," I gently said, using the same endearment I've called him since forever.

He doesn't have friends in school.

"Me too, My," my ten-year-old daughter interrupted from the doorway of Luzon's room. "It's intramurals, and I have my gymnastics training until six."

"Tiny Praise, will you quit that?" Zon protested. He brushed his fingers through his dark hair, pushing it backward. His hair was long enough to almost cover half of his forehead, and he had this habit of brushing it back every minute. "I hate it when you wear swimsuits and jump around, stretching your body like Elastic Man, and students are watching you."

"What? it's not swimsuits!" Praise complained.

"Psh, it looks the same."

"Then you should quit boxing too."

"They're always like this. They often argue, and Zon frequently insists on what he wants. Praise doesn't back down either.

"Yemen, don't go near your brother, he's annoying," Praise restrained her youngest, who was about four years old, just as he was about to approach.

"Okay, I'm sorry, tiny Praise," surrender was evident in Zon's voice, and now it seemed like he was the one pleading. "I'm just worried."

"I'm sorry too, big brother."

I smiled as I watched Praise walk towards Luzon, and they shared a warm hug.

I decided not to ask Luzon about Cayu, something I had been meaning to ask.

"Yemen baby, come here," I called out to the little boy who was being ignored by the two. He ran over to me. "Do you want fried chicken?"

"Yes, momma!"

Have I ever mentioned to anyone that this little cherub looks like Luzon and has his attitude? Yemen was like the kid version of Luzon. Even their favorites matched, except for the sauce or color.

Yemen was also very close to their daddy, just like Luzon used to be. Even now, father and son were almost inseparable.

But as Zon grew older, he seemed to be gradually changing. It was as if he had inherited his temper from Law.

Six years later, I received news from my son, personally delivered. I didn't expect what he said next.

He told me he had gotten someone pregnant, but I never expected him to retract his statement from last week.

"I'm not pregnant," he said firmly, his voice completely different.

"What do you mean, son?" Lazarus' voice beside me was serious and calm. It seemed he didn't like what he heard.

"I intentionally got Cayu pregnant."

That wasn't all. I was distracted when Praise entered the library. Her head was down, and her shoulders were moving in a way that I knew all too well.

She was crying.

"I-I'm sorry to disappoint you everyone..." she sobbed, holding a small, familiar white object.

I stood up from my seat next to Lazarus, who immediately let go of my waist to let me go, and approached my daughter. "Praise? Why are you crying?"

I saw the tense expressions on the two men from their seats when they heard what Praise wanted to say.

She was holding a pregnancy test.

"K-Kani got me pregnant..."