The air in the grand mansion felt heavy, thick with the scent of freshly baked pastries and the unspoken loneliness that clung to Gina like a second skin. It was her birthday, a day meant for joy, but the hushed whispers of the maids carried a familiar sting.

"Why is Madam Gina wasting her time again... Sir Liam will never celebrate her birthday with her."

Their words, like tiny, sharp needles, pierced her fragile hope. She stood amidst the elaborate spread she had prepared, a feast for a husband who wouldn't come, and felt the familiar burn of tears.

Mrs. Sarah, her only solace, rushed to her side, her kind eyes reflecting Gina's pain. "Madam Gina, stop doing this to yourself. Ignore them."

But the truth was a bitter pill. Liam, her husband, remained a phantom, his absence a gaping wound. The doorbell rang, a hopeful chime, only to deliver a gift from Grandpa, not the husband she desperately yearned for. Her phone buzzed; it was Grandpa, his cheerful voice a stark contrast to her internal turmoil.

"Happy birthday, my beautiful Gina! Hope you received my gifts?"

Gina forced a smile, a lie forming on her lips. "Yes, Grandpa. Liam even sang for me this morning... He's taking me out tonight."

The lie felt hollow, echoing the emptiness of her marriage. Just as she ended the call, another ring, another surge of hope. This time, it was a woman at the door, a stranger with a fiery red bob and an arrogant smirk. She pushed past Gina, her voice dripping with venom as she surveyed the birthday preparations.

"Oh poor Gina, are you really planning a huge celebration for your birthday? Your time in my man's home is up. I'm having his baby."