The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 3

That single word fell lightly from Garrison's lips, almost soundless.

But it felt like a serrated blade driving straight through Sloane's heart.-

Truthfully, she wasn't surprised by his reaction. Garrison had always fiercely protected his adopted sister, Quinn. In a high-stakes setting like this, he would naturally shield Quinn's identity rather than throw her to the media wolves.

Under normal circumstances, regardless of how much he pampered Quinn or how brutally he neglected his actual wife, Sloane could endure it.

But today was different.

She had just been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. She likely wouldn't live past a year.

In her most vulnerable moment, when she desperately needed her husband's comfort, she had to watch him stand on a global stage and tacitly claim another woman as his wife...

Meanwhile, at the bustling Nobel banquet.

Amidst the crowded hall, five-year-old Archie Foster had clearly witnessed his father's interaction with the press.

His dark, round eyes widened. His dad hadn't denied that Quinn was his wife! Did that mean his dad was finally admitting to everyone that Quinn... could be his mom?

Archie absolutely adored the gentle and brilliant Quinn.

In his young mind, Quinn and his father were cut from the same cloth. They were doctors saving the world, brilliant scientists who benefited humanity! They weren't like his real mother, who hadn't even finished college and seemed to know nothing. She was practically illiterate to him.

He had always harbored a secret wish: to grow up and be just as exceptional as his dad and Quinn.

Emboldened by his father's tacit approval, Archie squeezed Quinn's hand tightly. He looked up at her with bright, pleading eyes, his voice soft and sweet.

"Quinn, let's go find Dad."

A family of five. What a sick joke!

Sloane's ears rang, her vision blurring with white-hot flashes. Having joined the Foster family five years ago, she finally realized at this exact moment that she had never truly been a part of it.

She wanted to turn off the agonizing broadcast, but a morbid, desperate fixation forced her to keep watching.

Soon, the banquet officially commenced.

"And now, please welcome this year's recipient of the Nobel Prize in Medicine, Mr. Garrison Foster, to the stage."

The spotlight zeroed in on Garrison.

His custom black tuxedo accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist, casting an imposing silhouette. The crisp white collar highlighted his sharp jawline. Every strand of his dark hair was perfectly styled, framing his deep amber eyes that held an ocean of quiet intensity.