Taking Her for Granted, Losing Her Forever

One day, Carson Lambert brought home a homeless young woman, Helena Ziegler, who’d once saved his life.

She had survived by scavenging through trash, and she clung to him for three years. In all three years, he never once gave her his heart.

Because he knew that I, Winry Sachs, was the only one who loved him more than myself.

However, on our fifth wedding anniversary, Helena made a scene on the balcony of the villa and threatened to throw herself off. “Carson, this is the last time. If you pick her, I’ll jump right now. I’ll die right in front of you.”

She lunged at me, grabbing my arms, and tried to drag me toward the railing.

In the scramble, I saw Carson kick open the glass door and sprint out.

For a moment, I felt a sliver of relief. I struggled to reach out my hand toward him.

But he didn’t even glance at me. He scooped Helena up around the waist and carried her back into the room.

I painfully pulled my hand back and let half my body hang out over the railing.

Later, he said, “Winry, she saved my life. I can’t stand by and watch her die. Can you please let her stay? You know I only love you.”

What he didn’t know was that I was dying. My heart was failing.

…

As my body tipped forward over the railing, Helena’s triumphant smile flashed through my head.

It was on our fifth anniversary when she cornered me on the balcony and said, “Wanna make a bet? If Carson picks me today, you pack up and move out. Give up your position as Mrs. Lambert.”

She’d been repeating that line for three years.

I nodded indifferently, the same way I responded to her provocations.

Even when she suddenly yanked me toward the edge of the railing, I panicked only for a second. I was sure Carson would save me first. However, this time, I lost.

When the pain seized my chest, there was also a strange sense of relief. Maybe this meant he didn’t care that much about me after all. Perhaps it was better this way.

With half my body swinging outside the railing and cold wind biting at my collar, my fingers finally relaxed. I simply couldn’t hold on anymore…

When I opened my eyes again, Carson was at my bedside. His eye sockets were hollowed, and his jaw lined with a five o’clock shadow.

I thought he was worried and forced a small smile. “I’m fine. I’m not dead yet.”

His face was filled with guilt, but what he said didn’t match his expression. “Winry, I want to officially take Helena as a foster sister. That way, she will have someone to rely on for the rest of her life…”

As if fearing I’d read more into it, he quickly added, “Helena said if I don’t give her what she wants, she’ll jump from the balcony right away. Winry, I owe her my life. I can’t just watch her die. You know I only have you in my heart.”

My chest tightened as I remembered the bet I made with Helena. “Okay. Do whatever you want.”

Carson didn’t expect me to agree so readily. He let out a sigh of relief and pulled me into his arms. The familiar scent of his cologne was so strong that it made my eyes water.

“Trust me, Winry. It’ll just be a title for her. My heart is yours alone,” he reassured me.

I thought of the day three years ago when he proposed. It was the same embrace, the same promise. “Winry, I swear, you’re the only one in my heart. I’ll never let you down!”

Bitterness welled up inside me as I thought to myself, “Oh, Carson, I don’t have that long to live to see if you keep that promise.”

That very day, Helena was officially taken in as a foster daughter of the Lambert family. That night, Carson didn’t sleep in the master bedroom.

The next afternoon, Helena walked in wearing a limited-edition dress he’d bought her. “I’m so sorry, Winry. Carson insisted on staying with me last night, so I overslept.”

She rubbed the new ring on her ring finger. The smugness in her eyes was impossible to miss.

“Where are your manners? You see Mrs. Lambert and don’t even bother to greet her properly?” Francine Jules, my personal maid, stepped forward and shoved Helena.

Helena stumbled back and slammed her waist against the corner of the cabinet in the entryway.

Her eyes immediately reddened with pain and disbelief. She probably never expected me just to watch as one of the servants treated her like that.

What she didn’t know was that, before I married into the Lambert family, I was someone who held sufficient sway in my own circle.

Half of the Lambert Corporation’s success came from the resources my family put in, and the other half came from me sticking with Carson through the grind.

My people would teach anyone who needed it a lesson without batting an eye.

When Carson came home, he didn’t even spare Helena—who was clutching her side—a glance and just had the butler bring her to the guest room.

He gripped my wrist with panic in his voice. “Winry, she pushed alcohol on me on purpose last night. I’ll move her out to the villa in the suburbs. Please don’t take it to heart.”

…

For the next month, he came home on time every evening and had dinner with me. The closet was also filled with gifts he brought back.

All went well until, one day, the family physician said Helena was pregnant.

Carson’s face drained of color as he grabbed my shoulders. His fingers were trembling from the force. “Winry, Grandpa insists I keep the baby. Helena said that if I don’t stay with her every single day, she’ll abort it herself and take her own life…

“I swear to you that, once the baby’s born, I’ll register them to you. Just don’t make a fuss with Helena. I promise I’ll never let her replace you.”

He turned so quickly that his suit tail swept the coffee table and knocked over the cup of coffee I’d just brewed.

I stared at my flat belly. It felt like someone had torn a slit down my chest, and cold air was rushing through.

Back then, in a car crash, I’d taken a blow to my abdomen while protecting him. After I healed from it, it became difficult for me to get pregnant.

I’d swallowed pills and taken shot after shot in hopes of carrying his child, but the process wrecked my body.

I remembered him holding me, eyes red, as he said, “Winry, I could give up having kids, but I can’t lose you.”

He’d said how all those other women outside our circle were nothing to him, and he promised to be faithful to me for life. Who knew his “for life” would be over in barely five years?

I pinched my numb fingertips and told Francine, “Bring me my things from my study. I want to tell my father that I’ll be going back to stay with them soon.”

…

For the next three months, Carson would send people over with little things I used to like. However, I knew whatever I had, Helena had them too. What I treasured probably meant nothing special to him.

Our entire social circle whispered that the current Mrs. Lambert was losing her place. After all, Carson was spending almost all his time with the pregnant Helena.

My father and brother—Albrecht Sachs and Brandon Sachs—who were overseas, heard I’d been hurt and air-shipped a whole crate of my favorite foods to me.

When Francine saw me listless every day, she brought a Samoyed puppy over with a grin. “Ma’am, look! Mr. Sachs Senior had someone find this puppy for you. He said it’s just like the dog you had when you were little.”

The puppy looked up at me with wet, dark eyes and licked the back of my hand. I pulled it into my lap. The soft fur against my palm warmed my heart a little.

With the puppy around, I finally had something to look forward to. Even bitter medicine didn’t go down quite so hard.

Seeing my health improve, Francine suggested, “It’s a nice day. Let’s take the puppy out and get some sun in the garden, shall we?”

We’d barely reached the trellis on the terrace when we ran into Helena in full riding gear.

She carried an oddly shaped Airsoft pistol. Her belly wasn’t showing yet, but she stuck it out like she was really proud of it.

“Mrs. Lambert, Carson said that I’m pregnant, so I don’t have to be polite to anyone.” She glanced at Francine and waved the pistol in her hand. “This is perfect. You can come try this new toy with me.”

The pistol looked compact but probably packed a punch. “Helena, Francine isn’t well. Why don’t you find someone else to play with?”

Meanwhile, I gestured for Francine to head back inside.

Helena didn’t stop her. Instead, she flung the pistol into the fish pond in the garden and clutched her belly, wailing.

Footsteps pounded behind us. It was Carson.

“What happened? I told you not to play with dangerous stuff!”

He saw me and paused, his brow pinched. “Winry, how did you get so thin?”

He’d actually been home a few times in those three months, but each time I’d had Francine tell him I was asleep.

Maybe he assumed I was sulking about Helena. He didn’t know my illness had worsened. Now, even getting out of bed would cost me everything, and I had no energy to face him.

Finding he stared at me, Helena collapsed into his arms and pointed at Francine, who was just stepping back toward the door. “She pushed me! My pistol… I just finished assembling it, and it fell into the pond. My stomach hurts so bad…”

Carson’s face darkened immediately. “A maid dared lay hands on the mistress of the house? Bring her to the basement! I need to teach her a lesson!”

It was the first time he’d ever punished one of my people, and it was plain as day that he meant to humiliate me.

“She’s lying. Francine didn’t touch her at all,” I blurted.

However, Helena only cried louder. “She said that I’m just a foster daughter of the Lambert family and should be serving Mrs. Lambert. She even shoved me… Carson, I stayed up for nights to assemble that Airsoft pistol…”

Carson’s expression went completely cold. “Oh? So, you think a foster daughter should be bossed around by your maid? From today on, Helena is the Lambert family’s official daughter. Let’s see who dares to boss her around!”

Then, he pointed at the pond and barked at Francine, “Get in there and find Ms. Helena’s pistol. If you can’t, don’t come back up!”

I hugged the Samoyed pup to my chest and tried to plead for Francine, but Francines had already gritted her teeth and jumped into the pond.

The late-autumn water was ice-cold. When she hauled the pistol up, her lips were blue from the chill.

As the butler was about to take her away for punishment, I couldn’t stand it anymore and rushed forward to block Carson.

Helena’s gaze swept over the puppy in my arms, and she smiled. “That dog’s adorable. I want it.”

Carson smoothed her hair indulgently. “Sure. It’s yours.”

When he turned to me, his voice was sharp and absolute in a way I’d never heard in five years of marriage. “Winry, hand the dog over, and I’ll drop Francine’s punishment.”

To think he’d be willing to push me around like this, all for the sake of a young woman he’d picked up off the street.

“Carson, I’ll say it again—Francine didn’t push her. Do you not trust my words?” I snapped.

His brow tightened, and his tone chilled further. “Helena wouldn’t lie to me. It’s only a dog. Give it to her. I’ll have someone find a purebred litter for you in a few days.”

My father and brother had gone through the trouble of finding and sending the puppy to me. Why should I give it away?

Helena reached for the puppy. I couldn’t care less about keeping up appearances anymore and shoved her hand aside.

Her nails ripped into my wrist. The pain flared hot. My eyes stung with tears.

I shook her off hard, and she screamed, tumbling into the low shrubs.

Carson hurried to catch her. When he saw the blood on my wrist, the coldness in his eyes softened a little. “It’s just a pet. Must you make such a scene? Hand the dog over and get your hand treated quickly…”

No. It wasn’t just a pet. It was the memory my family had given me. It was the kind of care and attention he’d stopped being able to offer.

I clutched the pup tightly. Then, I felt the taste of iron in my mouth, and my vision swam.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw Carson’s face shift. He lunged toward me. For a brief moment, it almost looked like real worry.

…

When I woke up, Francine’s eyes were red as she dabbed something on my hand.

The family physician stood at the bedside, his expression grave. “Mrs. Lambert, your heart has worsened significantly since your last check. Going forward, you need to be prepared for the worst.”

My heart sank. “How much time do I have left?”

“At most six months. If things go poorly… maybe only a month or two,” he replied.

I gripped the sheet until my knuckles turned white.

Francine told me Carson had been frantic, carrying me to the doctor. However, halfway through the dressing, he’d been pulled away by Helena, complaining of belly pain.

I pressed my palm to the bandage on my wrist, swallowed the lump in my throat, and whispered to the doctor. “I have a favor to ask of you. Don’t tell anyone about my condition, okay? I don’t want people laughing at me, and I don’t want… their pity.”

Before this, I kept this from Carson because I didn’t want him to be upset. But now that his heart was clearly somewhere else, his pity was the last thing I’d need.

I took the puppy Francine handed me. It must’ve felt my mood because it licked my palm with its little pink tongue. The warmth stopped the tears from falling.

I was a Sachs. If I had to walk away, I’d do it with my head up. Crying would only make me look weak.

…

Mid-winter, I got a package from my father overseas and couldn’t help but smile. In two weeks, they’d come back for me.

I missed the sunrise over the ocean and riding a jet ski across the spray more than I could say, so I dug my surfboard out of the storage room—the one my brother had given me—and pulled on the sunshirt my mother had left behind.

Francine laughed when she saw me. “Ma’am, you look like you just came off the beach. Hardly villa material!”

I pretended to take a swing with the board and teased back, “Laugh all you want. I’ll drag you to surfing lessons with me!”

We were laughing when a dog’s scream cut through the yard. “That mutt just attacked Ms. Ziegler! Kill it!”

The Samoyed pup’s high, pained whine made my chest clamp.

I ran out and saw two guards holding the dog down by its leash while one beat it with a stick.

“Stop!” I felt like my eyes were going to burst. I grabbed the nearest gardening shears and shoved them toward the men.

Helena, swollen due to her pregnancy, strolled over with that smug grin. “I get whatever I want—men, things, even animals. Winry, you still wanna bet?”

I tightened my grip on the shears, blade toward her. “You can have Carson, but not this dog. I’m not doing this stupid bet with you. Let it go, now!”

Before the words were out, Carson’s cold voice cut in from behind. “What did you just say?”

His eyes were red, as if he hadn’t even heard me say I was giving him up to her. Helena’s knees buckled, and she lurched into me. In the scuffle, the tip of the shears nicked her arm.

“Winry’s dog lunged at my stomach. I was just trying to teach it a lesson, and she stabbed me!” she screamed. “Carson, my stomach hurts so much…”

Carson hurried to scoop her up, and his gaze turned icy as he looked at me. “Winry, a pet that attacks others needs to be put down. You’re being reckless!”

Then, he turned to the guards. “Get rid of that dog!”

I dropped the shears and, for the first time since all this started, grabbed the tail of his suit jacket in desperation. “No! Carson, Dad and Brandon found that dog for me. Don’t kill it, please…”

Tears ran down my face and nose. I was a complete mess.

Carson blinked, maybe surprised to see me in this state for the sake of a pet. Just as he was about to speak, Helena wrenched free and suddenly fell to her knees in front of me with a thud.

“Winry, I know you resent me, but I never wanted to take your place. Please don’t hurt me or the baby anymore, okay?” Her forehead hit the stone, and blood welled where it struck.

It was only then that Carson noticed the cut on her arm. “Winry, you can’t even tolerate this child? I told you before, once it’s born, I’ll have it adopted under your name. So, why…”

The pain and disappointment in his eyes felt like needles in my chest.

He shook my hand off and carried Helena away fast. “She’s not to set foot outside the main house without my permission!”

My heart was a wildfire. I tried to follow and tripped on the threshold, sprawling to the ground.

My puppy was dead. They threw its body in the garbage.

Ignoring the “house arrest”, I grabbed a golf club and stormed into Helena’s guest room to demand answers.

When I arrived, the scene before me stopped me dead in my tracks.

Carson had his ear pressed to her belly, and there was a faint, sweet smile at the corner of his lips that I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Carson barked at the guards to take my golf club away, then slapped me across the face. “It’s just a pet. So what if it’s gone? If Grandpa finds out you messed with the baby in Helena’s belly, no one will be able to save you. Go to your room!”

Helena leaned into him, eyes bright with the thrill of watching a show.

At that moment, I was completely disillusioned. Every scrap of love I’d poured out to him in the past felt like a joke.

After they dragged me back to the main house, Carson’s grandfather, Orlando Lambert, made me stand outside the villa to “reflect” on my actions.

The winter wind felt like a thousand icy needles boring into my bones. Two hours later, I collapsed in the snow.

When I came to, I found myself in Carson’s arms. He sighed and pressed a handwarmer to my numb, purple ankle.

“Winry, don’t be so stubborn. Just hold on a little longer, okay? The doctor said it’s a boy. Once he’s born, he’ll be yours and mine. I’ll try not to see her in the future, alright?”

My body ached like it was falling apart. I tried to push him away, but realized I couldn’t even lift my arm.

He brought me a cup of warm water, tested the temperature, and helped it to my lips.

He said, “Don’t be angry. You know I only have you in my heart. When you feel better, I’ll take you to the beach. I’ll find another Samoyed just like the one you lost.”

I turned my head and knocked the cup over. My voice was raw. “No. Carson Lambert, if you still have a conscience, let me go back to my parents’ house.”

His eyes were red as he gripped my wrist and hissed, “It’s just a dog! Winry, do you really want to leave me over this? Do I worth less than that dog in your heart?”

Just then, the butler rushed into the room in a panic. “Sir, Ms. Ziegler has food poisoning!”

Carson trembled in shock and quickly released my hand. “Food poisoning? But how?”

From the butler’s scrambled words, I started to put it together.

Earlier, when Francine had gone to heat my soup, she’d use the same pot that had been stewing some nutritious broth for Helena, so they suspected it was Francine who poisoned her.

“That’s impossible! Francine would never do that!” I said, furious and frantic.

But Carson only told the maid to watch after me and ran out the door.

When Francine was taken down to the basement for questioning, I limped after them as fast as my injured leg would allow and reached the stairwell.

I shouted until my voice went raw, but Carson didn’t look back. He just said that Francine had confessed.

“She wouldn’t do that! It’s a mistake!” I begged. “Please, don’t punish her. I’ll move to the guest room. I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything. Please…”

I leaned against the banister and sat on the stairs. Carson finally turned to me, his eyes bloodshot. “She says she did it of her own will. It’s nothing to do with you. Winry, do you really want to leave? Are you giving me up for a maid?”

He rushed forward and hauled me to my feet.

I yelled, “Yes! From the moment you slapped me, I’ve given up on you! I don’t want her baby, nor do I want the title of Mrs. Lambert. I just want to leave, to get as far away from you as I can!”

Tears blurred my vision as I screamed out everything—every humiliation, every bit of helplessness and heartbreak.

“Shut up!” he roared. “I’ll drag that old woman out and beat her up. Let’s see if you’d still say such things!”

“No! Don’t!” I shoved him away, desperate to run to the basement and save Francine.

He grabbed the back of my collar, then froze when he saw blood at the corner of my mouth. “Winry, what’s wrong?”

It was then that I realized I’d coughed up blood. Bright red drops fell from my chin onto the carpet.

In a panic, I tried to cover my mouth, but my legs gave out. I collapsed and could not rise again.

“Doctor! Somebody call the doctor! Save Winry!” Carson’s hands shook as he scooped me up.

I clung to his shirt, trying to plead, but the metallic, iron taste in my mouth surged stronger. My blood soaked a patch of his lapel.

The family physician rushed in with his medical bag, dropped to his knees, and said urgently, “Mr. Lambert, Mrs. Lambert’s heart can’t hold on much longer. She has a month left, at best. She absolutely mustn’t be subjected to any more stress!”